Chapter 3 The Queen behind locked doors

Stone swallowed sound in the inner chambers.

The doors sealed behind me with a thunderous echo, iron bolts sliding into place as if the palace itself feared what now stood within its walls.

The air was colder here, laced with old magic and something darker something that pressed against my lungs and refused to let me forget where I was.

Or who I had become.

Candles ignited one by one along the walls, their flames burning crimson instead of gold. The sigil over my heart pulsed in response, a dull ache spreading through my chest like a second heartbeat.

I staggered forward.

The chamber was vast, circular, carved deep into the palace’s core. Ancient runes spiraled across the floor, intersecting at a raised platform in the center an echo of the altar above. Tall windows rose toward the domed ceiling, revealing the Blood Moon in all its violent glory, hanging low and swollen in the sky.

Watching.......Waiting.

“You should not move.”

The king’s voice came from behind me.

I flinched.

He stood near the doors now, his dark cloak discarded, revealing armor etched with sigils similar to the mark burning beneath my skin. Up close, the curse clung to him like a living thing ,threads of shadow coiling around his shoulders, his wrists, his throat.

Bound Just like me.

“You collapsed twice already,” he continued. “The Crown does not take kindly to weakness.”

Anger sparked through my fear.

“I didn’t ask it to choose me,” I snapped, turning to face him. “Or you.”

For the first time since the ritual, something flickered in his eyes.

Pain.

“Neither did I,” he said quietly.

Silence stretched between us, thick and dangerous.

I hugged my arms around myself, suddenly aware of how small I was in this chamber, how exposed. “What happens now?”

The king approached slowly, as if nearing a wild creature that might bolt or bite. Each step sent a ripple through the sigils beneath our feet, faint red light pulsing outward.

“Now,” he said, “we discover whether the prophecy has condemned this kingdom… or merely rewritten it.”

He stopped a few paces away.

“Tell me,” he demanded, “what do you feel?”

I hesitated.

Then the truth spilled out.

“It’s loud,” I whispered. “Like something is screaming inside my bones. I can feel the Crown watching through me judging. And you…” My voice faltered. “You’re there too. Like a shadow just beneath my skin.”

The king’s jaw tightened.

“That should not have happened so quickly.”

“What shouldn’t?” I asked.

“The bond,” he replied. “It usually takes days. Sometimes weeks.”

Fear coiled in my stomach. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” he said grimly, “the Crown is desperate.”

The words sent a chill through me.

He gestured toward the raised platform. “Come. The sigil must be stabilized before the Moon reaches its peak.”

I shook my head instinctively. “I don’t trust this.”

“You shouldn’t,” he agreed. “But refusal is not an option.”

The mark flared sharply, pain slicing through my chest as if to punish my defiance. I cried out, dropping to my knees.

The king swore under his breath and crossed the distance between us in two strides. He knelt, gripping my shoulders not gently, but firmly, grounding.

“Listen to me,” he said urgently. “The Crown feeds on resistance. You must not fight it.”

“I don’t know how not to!” I gasped.

His hands tightened.

“Then feel me instead.”

The moment his skin touched mine, the pain shifted.

It didn’t disappear but it changed, weaving into something warmer, heavier. My breath hitched as awareness flooded me, sharp and intimate. His presence filled my senses steel and smoke, frost and fire, restraint stretched to its breaking point.

He felt it too.

I saw it in the way his breath stuttered, in the way his grip faltered for half a heartbeat.

The bond surged.

Runes across the chamber ignited fully, blazing crimson as ancient magic roared awake. Wind whipped around us, cloaks and hair snapping violently as the sigil over my heart burned brighter.

“Get up,” he said hoarsely. “Now.”

He pulled me onto the platform just as the Blood Moon flared, light pouring through the windows like a tidal wave. The sigils beneath us flared blindingly bright.

The Crown’s voice filled my mind.

Bind.

I screamed as power tore through me raw, unforgiving, ancient. Images flooded my vision: a throne slick with blood, a woman crowned in shadow, a king kneeling not in submission but in surrender.

The king stiffened.

He saw it too.

“No,” he growled. “You will not......"

The magic surged violently, forcing him to one knee.

Gasps tore from my throat.

“Kneel,” the Crown commanded not aloud, but everywhere.

The king resisted, muscles shaking, shadows writhing around him in fury.

“I will not kneel to a prophecy,” he snarled.

The sigils flared white-hot.

Pain exploded through us both.

I collapsed forward, palms slamming against the stone as agony ripped through my chest. The bond dragged at me, pulling—commanding.

Without understanding how, I whispered, “Stop.”

The magic froze.

The Blood Moon flickered.

The king sucked in a sharp breath.

Slowly—unbelievably he looked up at me.

And stayed kneeling.

The chamber fell silent except for our ragged breathing.

I stared at him, horror and awe crashing together. “I didn’t mean to.....”

“You commanded the Crown,” he said, voice tight with disbelief. “No one has ever done that.”

I shook my head, tears burning my eyes. “I don’t want this power.”

“Power does not care what you want,” he replied softly.

The sigil dimmed but did not vanish.

The bond settled, heavy and watchful.

For a moment, something fragile hovered between us.

Then—The doors shook violently.

A horn sounded from deep within the palace.

The king’s head snapped up, every trace of vulnerability gone.

“That’s not possible,” he muttered.

“What is it?” I asked, dread curling in my gut.

He rose in one fluid motion, shadows snapping back into place around him like armor.

“That horn,” he said grimly, “signals treason.”

The doors slammed inward under a massive blow.

Cracks splintered through ancient stone.

The Blood Moon blazed brighter.

And the Crown whispered, delighted:

Let them bleed.....

The whisper slithered through my mind like smoke, curling around my thoughts until I could no longer tell where the Crown ended and I began.

The doors burst inward.

Stone exploded across the chamber as armored bodies surged through the shattered entrance, blades gleaming red beneath the Blood Moon’s glow.

Their armor bore the sigil of the eastern houses—noble blood sworn to the throne.

Traitors….

The king moved instantly.

Shadows tore free from him, snapping outward like living chains, hurling the first wave of attackers backward with bone-crushing force.

Steel rang against stone.

Blood sprayed across ancient runes, feeding the magic etched beneath our feet.

“Stay behind me!” he commanded.

But the Crown pulsed—hot, demanding.

Another soldier lunged toward us, his sword raised high.

I lifted my hand without thinking.

The world bent.

Power ripped through me, violent and uncontrolled.

The air screamed as an unseen force crushed the man mid-stride, folding armor and bone inward until he collapsed lifelessly to the floor.

Silence followed.

I stared at my trembling hand, horror flooding my chest.

“I didn’t….” My voice broke. “I didn’t mean to……”

The king turned slowly, shock blazing in his eyes.

“You called the magic,” he said.

The sigil over my heart flared brighter than ever before, burning like a brand.

More footsteps thundered beyond the broken doors.

More horns sounded—closer now.

Too many. The king grabbed my wrist, his grip iron-tight.

“The Crown is awakening fully,” he said grimly. “If you lose control…..”

The chamber shook violently.

The Blood Moon darkened, its crimson light deepening to black.

And from beneath the platform, something ancient stirred—

something that had been waiting for a queen strong enough to wake it.

The Crown whispered again, eager and cruel: “Begin the reign”…..