Chapter 6
The palace was silent, but the air hummed with tension. Lyriana moved like a shadow through the halls, the note she had received clutched in her hand. Each step was measured, careful, as if the walls themselves might betray her.
Aryn waited in the hidden alcove of the east wing, his dark eyes scanning the corridors. "We don't have much time," he whispered as she approached. "The council's suspicions are growing. By tomorrow, I may be taken for questioning again. And if they discover the prophecy… neither of us will survive."
Lyriana nodded, determination hardening her features. "Then we must act tonight. We'll uncover who betrayed you—and why they want the prophecy hidden."
He stepped closer, their hands brushing. A thrill of warmth shot through her despite the chill of the stone walls. "You're risking everything for me," he murmured.
"I'm risking the empire for us," she corrected, her voice steady. "If the prophecy is true, it's not just about you or me. Arvandor itself is at stake."
They moved through the secret passageways beneath the palace, corridors long abandoned by even the bravest guards. Moonlight spilled in through cracks above, illuminating dust and cobwebs. Somewhere deep below, ancient sigils carved into the stone seemed to pulse faintly, resonating with Aryn's mark.
Finally, they reached a hidden chamber—a forgotten archive of the royal court. Scrolls, maps, and old tomes lined the walls, untouched for decades. Lyriana's eyes widened. "This is… impossible. How did no one know this existed?"
Aryn's gaze was fixed on a single scroll, sealed with silver wax. "Because it contains the truth about the prophecy," he said softly. "And the truth is dangerous. More dangerous than any Shadowlander's rebellion."
Lyriana hesitated, then placed her hand over his. "We face it together. No secrets between us anymore."
He smiled faintly, a rare softness touching his features. "Together," he repeated.
As they broke the seal and unrolled the scroll, a sudden draft blew through the chamber, extinguishing the candles and leaving them in darkness. Lyriana gasped, sensing a presence beyond the shadows.
A voice hissed from the dark: "So… the princess dares to meddle with what she does not understand."
Their eyes met in the moonlit gloom, hearts pounding. Danger had found them—even in the depths of a forgotten archive.
And in that moment, Lyriana realized that love and rebellion were no longer choices. They were survival.