The garden lay still, but the silence was a lie. Behind every rustling leaf, Anaya could feel eyes-some curious, some dangerous. Mira’s betrayal hung in the air like poisoned perfume.

Back inside the hall, the Council’s emissaries arrived, cloaked in silk and secrets. Among them was Lady Veera, a sharp-tongued viper dressed in gold, her gaze slicing through Anaya with far too much interest.

Lady Veera (smiling tightly):

“The Rite has awakened more than just tradition, hasn’t it, dear Princess? I do hope you’ve kept your... alliances clean.”

Anaya met her gaze, steel beneath the surface. Anaya (coolly): “Clean enough not to stink of betrayal.”

But as the music rose again, a commotion at the entrance turned every head. A rogue spell had exploded in the eastern wing, where the Royal Archives were kept. Riyan’s eyes narrowed.

Riyan (to Anaya, low and urgent): “That was no accident. They’re digging into something. About us.”

Anaya (shaken): “The bond. Our bloodlines. The rune...”

He nodded. “They want to unbind it. Erase the magic that connects us.”

But just as they turned to leave, Lady Veera’s voice rang through the hall.

“Stop them. Arrest the traitor prince.”

Steel flashed. Guards moved in.

And Anaya, heart thundering, made her choice.

With a cry of fury, she lifted her hands and for the first time, let the magic inside her break free.

The explosion of light blinded half the hall. Spells collided midair as Anaya’s hidden power surged, raw and untamed. Blue flame twisted around her, her gown turning almost molten under its heat.

Gasps rang out.

The sheltered princess was no longer just a pawn. She was fire.

Anaya (voice ringing like thunder):

“If you fear what I’ve become... then you should’ve never tried to cage me.”

Riyan broke free of the guards with a growl, slicing through magic like a dagger through silk. He reached her, eyes wild.

Riyan:

“You’ve awakened. Finally.”

The two vanished in a burst of light leaving behind a ballroom in chaos and a Council scrambling for control.

Meanwhile…

In the shadows of the Council Tower, Mira stood before a hooded figure, hands shaking.

Mira: “They escaped. The bond between them, it’s stronger than we thought.”

Hooded Figure (voice like ice): “Then it’s time to use Plan B. Bring her mother into play.”

Mira’s eyes widened. “But she’s dead.”

A twisted smile formed beneath the hood, “Only on paper.”