Melody was drawn into an empty space that bloomed into a vast garden of flowers.
Color spilled in every direction—petals stretching endlessly, their beauty so overwhelming it stole her breath. She wandered deeper, mesmerized, when she noticed a light trailing ahead of her, slipping farther and farther into the garden.
She followed.
With every step, the glow grew stronger—brighter, more intense. It pulled at her, beckoning her forward, until a force even brighter surged from behind her, colliding violently with the one she was chasing.
"Melody."
The sound of her name snapped her back into herself.
She gasped and opened her eyes.
Orionn sat behind her, his hands pressed firmly against her back, as though he had been channeling his power through her. His expression was tight—strained with panic.
"What happened?" she asked, her voice unsteady.
The last thing she remembered was concentrating—trying to push past the barrier the way Orionn had instructed. Then… nothing.
"I should be asking you that," Orionn snapped. "What the hell happened to you?"
She frowned. "You're acting strange. You look… scared."
"I'm not scared," he replied quickly. "Just surprised."
He studied her closely before asking, "When was the last time you summoned your power?"
"I don't usually channel it," Melody said. "So I'm not sure. Maybe the last time… before I came to your kingdom."
Orionn nodded slowly. "Alright. For now, just focus on the plants around us. Don't go any deeper."
She glanced around.
The flowers surrounding them seemed different.
The vines were longer, thicker—curling unnaturally—and the air was heavy with a sharp, minty floral scent. She blinked, unsure whether it was her imagination.
Then she noticed the cut on Orionn's arm.
"What happened to you?" she asked. "You didn't have that earlier."
"It's nothing," he said too quickly. "Just continue practicing. Don't channel your power any further."
He paused before adding, "Concentrate on the training grounds."
She nodded, still dazed by what had happened.
"I'll go now," he said shortly.
Then he left.
As Orionn walked back into the castle grounds, his mind reeled.
What he had witnessed was impossible.
Melody possessed a level of raw, core power that surpassed anything he had ever encountered—even his own. And he was a prodigy among prodigies.
But what unsettled him most wasn't the power itself.
It was the fact that, during the surge, he hadn't been able to feel her emotions.
Orionn was not someone who scared easily.
But earlier… he had been afraid.
Not because something might happen to Melody—but because she might become something far greater than anyone who had ever lived in Devera.
Getting close to her during the surge had been nearly impossible. Thorns and vines had erupted from once-harmless flowers, lashing out violently in response to her uncontrolled power.
Such power… he had never seen it. Never even heard of it.
Just what is she?
Throughout the rest of the day, Melody couldn't shake the strange tension between herself and Orionn during training. She tried to brush it off, but something felt wrong—off in a way she couldn't explain.
It felt like there was something Orionn wasn't telling her.
And she was determined to find out.
By the end of the day, exhaustion weighed heavily on her body. Nathan and Damon hadn't been around, so she had focused mostly on her core power.
Over the past week, she had learned one crucial truth—combat alone wouldn't be enough for her.
She needed both strength and control.
Power and skill.
As evening fell, she headed to the dining room to eat before retiring for the night.
When Melody arrived, she found Korvus seated at the table—Orionn nowhere in sight.
Over the past week, dinners had usually included Orionn, Korvus, Nathan, Damon, and sometimes Amah.
Tonight, it was just the two of them.
"Good evening, Your Majesty," she greeted politely.
"Ah, there you are," Korvus said with a smile. "You're hardly ever seen during the day."
She returned a small nod, though unease curled in her stomach. There was something about Korvus—his scent, his presence—that had never sat right with her. Being around him made her skin crawl.
"Have a seat," he added. "Orionn will be here shortly."
She complied and took a seat.
As they waited, an old curiosity resurfaced—one she had tried to ignore.
Orionn's mother.
She couldn't ask Orionn.
He was cold, guarded, and utterly insufferable when it came to personal matters. So, against her better judgment, she decided to ask his father.
"If I may ask, Your Majesty…" she began.
"Go on," Korvus said smoothly. "Ask whatever you wish."
"What happened to Orionn's mother?"
Silence followed.
It stretched—long, heavy, suffocating.
Korvus straightened slightly before speaking.
"Mirabel was a wonderful woman. Beautiful. Gentle. She had a way of making people feel seen… especially in ways that had nothing to do with the physical."
His words trailed off—vague, incomplete.
Melody frowned. That wasn't enough.
"I haven't seen any paintings of her," she pressed.
"There's barely any mention of her in the palace. No one seems to know where she came from."
"When I met Mirabel," Korvus began again, "she was simply a naïve girl in a world as vast as Devera. We fell in love, and everything seemed to fall into place, until—"
"Father."
The interruption was sharp.