Chapter 4

Another night passed. Only twelve nights remained until the Night of the Shattered Moon.

I returned to my cold, remote room, and the first thing I said to Faye as I stepped inside was:

"Light the brazier."

Ethereal blue flames shot up, licking at the stone walls and illuminating the things I once held so dear.

The silver-white gown embroidered with stardust, the one I was meant to wear as I walked toward Caelum on the night of our soul-binding.

A Verdantleaf Bow, imbued with vibrant life, which he had carved for me with his own hands.

And a Starlight Necklace that shimmered with a faint glow, a wisp of Caelum's soul-imprint sealed within.

They were all gifts from Caelum.

Each one heavy with meaning.

He had spent an entire season after his coming of age polishing the bow, his fingers left raw and bleeding from the splinters.

The gown was made from the finest ice-silk, which he had braved the treacherous Misted Forest to find, all to please me.

As for the necklace, everyone in the elven lands knew that parting with a soul-imprint was a pain akin to scraping bone.

The elves once whispered that Prince Caelum spoiled a Dark Elf beyond reason.

And I had been naive enough to believe it.

But the boy who had been willing to carve out a piece of his soul for me was long dead.

"The fire is lit, my lady." Faye pushed the magic brazier to my feet, her eyes already red.

"These things… you used to forbid anyone from even touching them. Why are you burning them now?"

I stepped forward, grabbed the stardust gown and the Verdantleaf Bow, and tossed them into the flames without hesitation.

Watching the exquisite objects twist and blacken in the maw of the magical fire, my thoughts drifted back to the year my magic awakened.

Caelum had placed the necklace with his soul-imprint around my neck, his eyes full of warmth as he looked at me, as if I were his one and only star in this life.

"Elowen," he had asked in a low voice, "you've come of age. Will you be the partner of my soul?"

In my memory, that was the last time he had ever formally mentioned the soul-bond to me.

The flames consumed the last glimmer of starlight on the gown.

My voice was as light as the wind. "The marriage pact is broken."

"Keeping them only serves as a reminder of how foolish I once was."

Faye cried out and lunged forward, trying to snatch the Starlight Necklace from the edge of the brazier, but I caught her hand.

"Burn everything that can be burned."

"Take what cannot be burned to the black market tomorrow and sell it. All except the royal soul-ring. With its sigil, no one there will dare to touch it, so we must keep it."

I looked at Faye, a sliver of my remaining warmth in my voice. "I will be leaving this world."

"But you must take this gold and live a good life."

Faye's tears spilled over, and she could only nod desperately.

The next morning, as usual, I went to the main house to pay my respects to my parents.

The two holes in my collarbones from the cold iron had begun to fester and ooze, a dull ache like a red-hot nail permanently embedded in the bone gnawing at me without pause.

Every step felt like walking on shattered bone.

At the turn in the long corridor leading to the main hall, I came face to face with Caelum.

He stood between the pillars, dressed in a moon-white tunic, his posture rigid, his expression cool.

The face I once thought I could entrust my entire life to now held nothing but a distant, unapproachable coldness.

Seeing my deathly pale face, he frowned slightly and reached out to take my hand.

"Elowen, you don't look well. Are you feeling ill?"

"I'm fine." I pulled my hand back. "I just didn't sleep well."

He did not press further, as if my pain were just another of my supposed tantrums.

"I came today to take you to the royal sanctuary."

On a fixed day each month, I had to accompany him to pay respects at his deceased mother's tomb.

The former queen despised me, even publicly humiliating me by saying, "As long as I draw breath, that Vaelen girl will never tarnish the royal bloodline."

Back then, Caelum had defied his mother's wishes and insisted on our betrothal.

So, despite the scorn, I went to her tomb each month and knelt, enduring the icy glares of the high elven ladies of the court, begging for an approval that would never be granted.

But now, none of it was necessary. I looked up, met his eyes, my voice so calm it felt foreign even to me.

"I won't be going with you anymore."

"The princess you should be taking to see her is Nyssa."

Caelum's brow furrowed sharply, my bluntness apparently an affront to his pride.

"Elowen, must you be so petty? Your sister has only a few days left, and you still want to fight her over this?"

So that's what I was in his eyes. A petty, jealous creature, from beginning to end.

The absurdity of his logic almost made me laugh.

I opened my mouth to retort, but a thick, cloying, metallic taste surged up from my chest.

I instinctively raised a silk handkerchief to my lips.

I coughed, the taste of cloying metallic sweetness filling my mouth, and I lowered the handkerchief.

On the snow-white silk, a large, dark stain was spreading in a twisted pattern.

It was blackened, viscous blood, threaded with wisps of necrotic power.