Chapter 20

The throne room of Astralis had always been a place of grandeur—pillars carved from silver-veined marble, chandeliers glittering with crystal stars, a dais that loomed high above the rest of the hall like a stage built for judgment. Tonight, however, it pulsed with danger. Every noble present sensed it in the silence that trembled after the herald’s announcement.

Serenya Vale stood at the center, her heart hammering beneath her simple gown. She had not worn a crown, not yet, but all eyes searched her face as though they could already see it gleaming above her auburn hair.

Kaelen Draven shifted closer, the faintest brush of his hand against hers grounding her. His voice was low, for her ears only.

“Breathe, Serenya. You’ve hidden in shadows long enough. Tonight, the light belongs to you.”

She wanted to believe him, but the weight of truth threatened to crush her. For years she had been the girl no one saw—an orphan, a healer’s apprentice, a figure passing unnoticed through crowded markets. And yet, every drop of her blood belonged to the fallen line of Vale, the dynasty thought extinguished when the Crown Prince and his heirs were slaughtered in the coup that had placed King Aldric on the throne.

Every noble in the hall was waiting for her to speak.

“Your Majesty,” Serenya said, bowing her head toward the king seated on the dais. Her voice trembled but did not break. “There is something I must reveal. Not only to you, but to every soul sworn to Astralis.”

A rustle passed through the nobles, the sound of silks shifting and murmurs rising. Darian Crestfall, clad in armor that gleamed like moonlight, frowned from his post near the king’s side. His hand hovered near his sword hilt—not in threat, but in readiness.

Serenya drew in a breath that felt like fire.

“My name is not merely Serenya Vale. I am Serenya Aurelia Vale, daughter of Crown Prince Aric Vale. The blood of Astralis runs in me. I am the rightful heir to this throne.”

The hall erupted.

Gasps, curses, the scraping of boots. Thalric Veynor, the Duke whose ambition had long poisoned the court, rose to his feet, his voice sharp as a blade.

“Lies!” he thundered. “Fabricated by rebels to unsettle our kingdom. The true heirs perished two decades ago!”

Yet others leaned forward, whispering fervently. Maelis Rowan, the seer whose eyes seemed always fixed on realms beyond sight, spoke from the shadows at the edge of the dais.

“The stars have whispered of this night for years. A crown hidden. A heart eclipsed. She speaks truth.”

King Aldric’s face, carved in stone, betrayed nothing. But his fingers clenched around the golden armrest of his throne.

Kaelen stepped forward, his voice steady.

“I was sworn to guard her life in secret since the night the Vale line was slaughtered. I can bear witness. She carries not only the blood but the seal of her lineage.”

From beneath his cloak, he withdrew a medallion wrought of silver and obsidian—an emblem long thought lost. The twin crowns of Astralis and Lunareth, intertwined, etched into its surface. The hall went deathly still.

Darian Crestfall’s eyes widened. He had been raised on tales of the lost emblem, the mark of the crown prince’s line. “By the stars…” he whispered, though whether in awe or dread, Serenya could not tell.

The king finally spoke, his voice low and thunderous.

“You dare stand in my hall and claim the throne is yours?”

Serenya lifted her chin, though fear churned within her.

“I do not claim it with arrogance, but with duty. Astralis bleeds. The people suffer under taxes, wars, and hunger. My bloodline was betrayed, but it was not extinguished. I will not remain silent while shadows consume this kingdom.”

For a moment, the entire court seemed to hold its breath.

Then Thalric Veynor laughed—a harsh, cutting sound that echoed off the marble walls.

“Even if her tale were true, Majesty, do you believe the lords of Astralis will kneel to a girl raised in the gutters? She has no army, no power, no right but a name she barely dares to carry. Cast her into the dungeons and let this farce end.”

Serenya’s pulse pounded, but before she could answer, another voice rose—clear and defiant.

Eloria Thorne, the rival princess from the neighboring realm, stepped forward from among the gathered envoys. Her golden gown shimmered like sunlight against storm clouds.

“Enough, Duke,” she said, her gaze fixed on Serenya. “I have crossed swords and words with this woman. She is no impostor. And though it stings me to admit, she carries the weight of a crown in her every step.”

A murmur surged again—Eloria, always ambitious, siding with Serenya? The court rippled with unease.

King Aldric’s gaze darkened.

“Why?” he demanded, his voice aimed at Eloria.

“Because truth cannot be silenced,” Eloria replied coolly. “And if she is silenced, so will Astralis be, in time. Perhaps my kingdom would benefit from your ruin, but I cannot ignore what the fates have already chosen.”

The tension stretched until it seemed the very air would shatter.

At last, King Aldric rose from his throne. His robes cascaded around him like a tide of crimson.

“Serenya Aurelia Vale,” he said, drawing out each word like the strike of a hammer. “If you are indeed the lost heir, then prove it. Not with medallions or seers, but with the fire of a ruler. Tomorrow at dawn, you will face the Trial of Crowns. Survive it, and Astralis may yet call you queen. Fail, and your blood will water the stones of this hall.”

The chamber erupted into clamor once more, but Serenya barely heard it. Her pulse thundered louder than any voice. The Trial of Crowns—an ancient rite whispered about in frightened tones, a test of both spirit and power. Few who attempted it returned whole.

Kaelen’s hand found hers again, firm and steady.

“You don’t have to do this,” he murmured.

“Yes,” Serenya whispered, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. “I do. If I walk away now, I’ll forever be the girl in the shadows. But if I face this trial… I become the heir Astralis has been waiting for.”

From the shadows, Maelis’s voice drifted once more, almost like a prophecy.

“The eclipse has begun. Two crowns shall rise, but only one shall shine.”

As the nobles dispersed in chaos and plotting, Serenya felt the weight of destiny settle upon her shoulders like chains of fire. Tomorrow, her secret would either raise her to the throne… or destroy her forever.