The Ravenna Palace stood atop a cliff of black stone like an ancient lion staring unblinkingly at the world. Its structure towered with pale marble pillars, sharp slate covered roofs, and tall windows seemingly designed to keep warmth from ever entering. The air surrounding it was always colder than in other regions, not only because of its northern location, but because of the long history embedded in its walls. A history of power, discipline, and emotions that were never spoken aloud.
Alessandro Vittorio di Ravenna stood in the grand hall with a posture so perfect it was almost painful to witness. His shoulders were straight, his chin lifted just enough, and his expression calm like a frozen lake untouched by stone. He wore the traditional attire of the northern nobility in deep black accented with silver. His long coat fell neatly without a single misplaced fold, as if gravity itself respected him.
In his mind, Alessandro had already prepared a series of neutral expressions for the day. An expression of courtesy, a carefully disguised boredom, attentive listening, and the look that conveyed mild disinterest. None of them included surprise, let alone panic, because Alessandro Vittorio di Ravenna did not acknowledge either.
Unfortunately, fate often possessed a terrible sense of humor.
---
The political ritual between regions was called Concordia Lucis et Umbrae, an ancient ceremony said to unite North and South in balance. Alessandro privately referred to it as an expensive symbolic performance, but he was not foolish enough to say it aloud. He knew every movement he made today would be scrutinized by elder nobles, diplomats, and influential families who treated even the smallest mistake as gossip worthy of generations.
Giuliano Marcello di Bellacqua stood beside Alessandro wearing a relaxed smile that was utterly inappropriate for such a sacred atmosphere. His hair was perfectly styled with an effortless charm, and his eyes sparkled with amusement as though he had come not for a ritual, but for free entertainment.
"A small bet," Giuliano whispered as he leaned closer. "How many minutes before you look like you want to escape?"
Alessandro glanced at him without fully turning his head. "I never want to escape."
"Of course," Giuliano replied lightly. "You just want the entire world to stop breathing so it does not disturb you."
Leonardo Filippo della Rocca stood slightly behind them, his expression far more serious. His brown eyes carefully observed every detail of the ritual. Meanwhile, Chiara Vittoria di Santelmo attracted attention for reasons entirely unrelated to the ceremony. Her elegant gown, lively expression, and knowing smile suggested that whatever happened today would become an excellent story.
"Relax," Chiara said cheerfully. "If this ritual fails, at least we will get high quality political drama."
Alessandro took a long breath. He already despised the day, and the ritual had not even begun.
---
The doors of the hall opened slowly with a heavy sound that echoed throughout the chamber. All conversation stopped instantly, and the cold air seemed to shift aside, making room for something different. Something warm, gentle, and bright. The southern delegation entered in orderly steps, their garments lighter and brighter in color, as if they carried sunlight with them.
At the center of the group walked Elena Rosalinda della Fiorenza with a grace that felt entirely natural. Her cream gold gown was simple yet refined. Her dark brown hair was neatly styled with a small ornament that reflected the light. Her expression was calm, her smile soft, and her eyes carried a quiet intelligence that was not aggressive but unmistakable.
Alessandro looked at her a fraction longer than he should have. Not because he was captivated, at least he refused to call it that, but because her presence felt like a contrast. Like a warm painting hung in a cold room, not misplaced, yet unsettling to the balance.
"Well," Giuliano murmured softly. "The southern sun has arrived at last."
Alessandro ignored him, though he privately admitted the title was not entirely inaccurate.
---
The ritual began with ancient chants spoken in an old language that even Leonardo had to concentrate to understand. A magical circle slowly illuminated the floor of the hall, silver and gold lines intertwining to form symbols of balance. Alessandro and Elena were summoned to stand at the center of the circle, facing one another.
The distance between them felt safe, Alessandro thought. At least emotionally.
Elena lifted her gaze and met Alessandro's eyes directly for the first time. His stare was cold and measured, while hers was gentle yet sharp, as if she was observing without judgment. A brief silence fell, stretching longer than it should have.
"Lord Alessandro," Elena greeted with a calm voice, bowing slightly. "It is an honor."
"Lady Elena," Alessandro replied with flawless formality. "May this ritual proceed without incident."
Elena smiled faintly. "That is always my hope at political events."
From afar, Giuliano struggled to suppress his laughter, while Chiara hid her smile behind her fan, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
---
The core of the ritual required the two representatives to clasp hands as a symbol of agreement. A simple gesture, almost cliché, yet heavy with meaning. Alessandro stepped forward half a pace and extended his hand with the precision he usually reserved for signing vital treaties.
Elena did the same, her slender fingers warm as they touched his.
In the next instant, the world seemed to stop.
The light within the magic circle surged violently, shining so brightly that several nobles shielded their eyes. The air around Alessandro froze suddenly, a bone deep cold, while at the same time a strange heat surged from his palm like a hidden ember. Elena felt it as well, heat and cold colliding inside her body in an entirely impolite manner.
"What" Elena faltered, her breath catching.
Alessandro clenched his jaw. He did not speak, but his brow furrowed slightly, a reaction so rare it might as well have been a scandal.
The magic circle trembled, its symbols shifting color, and one of the elders shouted, "Separate them at once."
---
They were pulled apart quickly as panicked footsteps echoed through the hall that had once been silent. The light dimmed, and the ritual ended unofficially in a collective confusion that would have been amusing if it were not so dangerous.
Alessandro stood several meters away from Elena, forcing himself to steady his breathing. The cold had not fully faded from his body, while the strange heat still pulsed faintly in his chest. He felt unsettled, and Alessandro despised that sensation.
Elena pressed a hand to her chest, her expression composed despite the shock in her eyes. "Did you feel that as well?"
"I felt something," Alessandro replied stiffly. "And I am certain it was not part of the standard ritual."
Giuliano approached with an expression that blended concern and extreme curiosity. "Well," he said brightly, "who accidentally activated an ancient curse?"
Leonardo rubbed his temples. "This is not something to joke about, Giuliano."
"That is exactly why," Giuliano replied, "I feel compelled to."
---
The elders gathered, their whispers layered with panic disguised as authority. The name of the curse was finally spoken, softly yet clearly. Duality Unbound. An ancient bond that should have existed only in forbidden texts, not activated in the heart of the palace.
"This makes no sense," Alessandro said firmly. "This ritual has been performed for centuries without issue."
"A minor imbalance can trigger something far greater," one elder replied, his face pale.
Elena stepped forward instinctively, then stopped abruptly as the heat and cold surged again, stronger than before, making her stumble slightly. Alessandro moved toward her without thinking, his hand extending before he stopped himself midway.
They looked at one another, both realizing the same unsettling truth.
"It seems," Elena said quietly, "we cannot go too far apart."
Giuliano raised an eyebrow. "The definition of too far is quite important."
Leonardo stepped forward with a magical measuring tool, calculating the distance precisely. "Ten meters," he concluded. "Beyond that, the physical reaction intensifies."
Chiara clapped her hands once. "Wonderful. Close range drama. I already love it."
---
Alessandro closed his eyes briefly, resisting the urge to sigh. This had to be a ritual error, he told himself. Something temporary. Something fixable. Something without long term consequences or unwanted attachment.
"I refuse to acknowledge this as permanent," he said coldly. "This is clearly a technical error."
Elena nodded slowly. "I agree. Curse or not, this must be reversible."
Yet when they attempted to step farther apart once more, beyond the ten meter limit, the pain struck them simultaneously. Sharper and more intrusive, forcing Alessandro to gasp and Elena to grimace.
Giuliano struggled not to laugh. "Well," he said, "perhaps for now, you should simply not move away from each other."
Alessandro shot him a glare. "Be quiet."
Elena exhaled softly, her smile returning despite the absurdity of the situation. "It seems," she said gently, "we will have to work together, Lord Alessandro."
Alessandro nodded stiffly. "For the time being."
Within his heart, he made a silent vow. Whatever this was, it would end as quickly as possible.
Neither of them noticed that fate had just smiled. And it was very clearly laughing at them.