Crown Princess Isla's life takes a terrifying turn when a bizarre urge compels her to steal iron at the market, triggering unsettling dreams, a disturbing connection to metal, and a public scandal. Her family, horrified and confused, confines her to her room. There, a monstrous transformation begins: Isla's body twists into a wolf-like creature, driven by primal instincts and a chilling connection to iron. As Isla grapples with her horrifying new reality, her sister Anne, fueled by ambition and exploiting the public's fear, plots to seize the throne, even resorting to supernatural means to undermine Isla and marry Prince Caius. Escaping her confinement under the full moon's influence, Isla, now a terrifying werewolf, unleashes chaos upon the city. Amidst the terror, she encounters Kael, an ordinary man haunted by the same curse that afflicts her, a descendant of the woman who cursed the royal line generations ago. They find solace and love in their shared monstrous fate. The curse's origin is revealed: a vengeful act targeting the seventh princess, compelling her to worship the curser and bring her iron. United in their shared affliction, Isla and Kael terrorize the city together, their love story unfolding against a backdrop of fear and destruction. Their reign of terror is ultimately brought to an end when the terrified populace captures them, leaving the future of the cursed kingdom uncertain. The story explores themes of transformation, betrayal, the destructive nature of curses, and an unlikely love born in the heart of a nightmare.
View MoreGoing to the market in Equedore is usually one of my favorite things. I love seeing all the colorful stalls, smelling the spices, and buying some nice dresses. Today, though, was… different. Mortifying. I was browsing the pottery stand, looking for a new vase for my room, when I saw them. Just a bunch of plain iron spoons on the next table. Nothing special. Except… a loud, brutal internal clang that felt like a bell began ringing in my head the second my eyes landed on them. It wasn't a real bell, of course, more like a sound inside my skull, insistent and unbearable, as if something hungry had just been awakened within me. My hands began to tremble, a strange energy climbing through my ribs.
I tried to ignore it, focusing on a blue vase with painted flowers. But the ringing just got louder, like someone was banging on a metal pot right next to my ear. My hands felt even twitchier, and this weird urge bubbled up inside me, a feeling I couldn't explain. Before I even knew what was happening, my hand shot out, grabbed two of the iron spoons, and shoved them into the little satchel I carried.
My face went hot. What in the world had I just done? I’ve never stolen anything in my life. Especially not… spoons. They weren’t even shiny or interesting! The bell in my head quieted down as soon as the spoons were hidden, but now a different kind of noise filled my ears – the frantic beating of my own heart. I glanced around, praying no one had seen me, my cheeks burning with shame. This was so strange, so wrong. What was happening to me?
After a short while, I regained some composure but my heart still hammered against my ribs. I tried to act normal and glanced at the pretty fabrics at the next stall. I'm hoping nobody noticed my weird spoon moment. I finished shopping and my cart was checked and packaged by the cashier who seemed very happy to see me. She smiled and handed me my bag. As I walked through the security doorpost, a slightly nervous voice came from behind me
"Your Highness?"
I turned around to see a market guard, looking a bit flustered. He bowed his head slightly. "Forgive me, Princess Isla, but there's been a report…" He hesitated, looking uncomfortable.
"A report?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, even though my stomach felt like it was doing somersaults.
"Yes, Your Highness. Someone… someone mentioned seeing you place something in your bag without paying." He avoided direct eye contact, his gaze flickering towards my satchel.
I frowned, genuinely confused. "Without paying? That's… that's not right. I wouldn't…" I trailed off, unsure what I was trying to say because I honestly didn't remember taking anything.
"Of course, Your Highness. There must be some mistake." He wrung his hands a little. "But protocol… perhaps if you would just allow me a glance into your bag, we can clear this misunderstanding immediately." He still seemed hesitant, clearly conscious of my royal status.
Just then, a sharp voice cut in. "What's going on here, with the Princess?" It was Mrs. Gable from the pottery stall, her arms crossed and a look of both concern and confusion on her face. "She was just at Mr. Elms' spoon stand."
My eyebrows shot up. Spoon stand? I hadn't even paid it any mind! "I… I don't understand," I said, honestly dismayed.
And then, Mrs. Gable said, "Princess, Mr. Elms has a security device. It… it seems to have recorded you putting two of his iron spoons into your bag." She looked as perplexed as I felt.
My mouth fell open. Recorded? I reached into my satchel, my fingers searching blindly. And there they were. Two plain, cold iron spoons. How on earth did those get in there? I looked at the guard, who was now looking even more uncomfortable, then at Mrs. Gable, my face hot with confusion and a strange sense of disbelief. I hadn't meant to take them. I didn't even remember seeing them properly. This was so bizarre.
A heavy silence hung in the air. The guard, looking deeply uncomfortable, cleared his throat. "Your Highness," he began hesitantly, "I… I understand this looks… unusual. Perhaps we could discuss this privately?"
"Unusual?" a sharp voice cut in. "What's going on here? What's the hold-up?" Princess Anne swept into the small office from the car she had been waiting for me to get back, her expression imperious. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, moved from the flustered guard to my red face.
I winced. "Annie, please it's… complicated." I just wanted this whole embarrassing mess to disappear.
"Complicated how?" Anne demanded, her tone leaving no room for argument. "This man stopped you in the market? Does he know who Papa is?."
The guard straightened, his earlier nervousness replaced by a rigid formality. "Princess Anne, I am under strict orders from the King to ensure the security and order of the market. There was a report."
Before he could elaborate, a tall, stern-faced man in the King's guard uniform Liam, entered the office. His gaze was cool and professional. "Princess Isla," he said, his voice even and unwavering. "word has been sent to the palace of this… incident." His eyes flickered to the market guard, then back to me, a hint of something unreadable in their depths.
A knot of unease tightened in my stomach. His presence felt less like a rescue and more like an official investigation.
"Princess Anne," He acknowledged with a curt nod. "Princess Isla was seen taking goods from the market without paying. The market vendor activated a silent alarm connected directly to the Liam outpost stationed near the market. Given the princess's involvement, the outpost immediately relayed it to the Captain of Guard who in turn informed His Majesty at once”
His tone was respectful but firm, treating me with the same detached professionalism I would any other citizen.
Anne scoffed. "Taking goods? My sister? This is ludicrous! Isla wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone steal some trinket."
"Nevertheless, Princess," Liam said, his gaze unflinching, "there is security footage." He gestured towards the market guard. "He informs me it clearly shows Princess Isla placing iron spoons into her satchel."
Anne's sharp eyes narrowed. "Iron spoons? Why on earth would Isla want iron spoons?" She turned to me, her usual harshness softening slightly with a hint of confusion. "Isla? What is going on?"
I shook my head, my confusion growing. "I don't know, Annie. I honestly don't. One minute I was looking at pottery, the next… I don't remember anything about spoons until they were suddenly in my bag. It's the strangest thing." The ringing in my head was back, a dull throb behind my eyes and my hands quivered at the mention of the offending utensils.
Anne looked from me to Liam, her expression hardening again. "There has to be a mistake. My sister is not a thief. Perhaps this 'security footage' is faulty, or someone is mistaken." She fixed a demanding stare on the market guard. "You will review this footage immediately, and you will treat the Princess with the respect she deserves. She is the future Queen of Equedore!"
Liam, still with that serious look on his face, said, "With your permission, Princesses, it would be best to return to the palace now. Given the… unusual nature of the situation and Princess Isla's standing, the King should be waiting."
Anne huffed. "Unusual is an understatement! My sister is being accused of stealing spoons! This is an outrage!"
I just nodded, still feeling confused and a little sick to my stomach. The thought of facing Papa and Mama about this was not pleasant.
Chapter Eight (Extended): The Unseen Torment of Kael, Echoes in the StoneIn the sprawling, labyrinthine alleys and perpetually shadowed corners of Equedore’s bustling city, a man named Kael navigated the intricate pathways of a life seemingly woven from the most ordinary threads of a commoner’s existence. By trade, he was a skilled craftsman, his calloused hands possessing a quiet mastery in shaping the yielding grain of wood and the supple strength of leather, his days typically unfolding in the honest rhythm of his dedicated labor. Yet, beneath this carefully constructed veneer of an unremarkable life, a disquieting and persistent current flowed, a deeply personal and long-held secret torment that had clung to him like a persistent shadow for as long as his memory stretched.Much like the Crown Princess Isla within the gilded confines of the royal palace, Kael was haunted by the unwelcome intrusion of inexplicable and unsettling dreams. His nights, meant for rest and rejuvenation a
Annie stood like a guard by the tall window in her room. The moon in the sky looked like a shiny silver coin. Its pale light made her face look bright and dark in places, showing how smart she was, now that her eyes were squinted as she thought. She hadn't been able to sleep well since Isla and Prince Caius came back. The prince was polite but in a way that hid something Annie felt was very wrong. Isla's eyes were puffy and red from crying. Annie knew something bad had happened when they were out.Her eyes went down to the big dark garden. She had gone there to feel the cool night air, hoping to calm the worried feeling in her mind. That's when she saw it – a shadow that moved quickly and strangely across the neat grass. It was big and not easy to see clearly. It moved with a scary speed and like it was flowing. It was close to the ground, much lower than a person, and it moved with a wild, like-a-hunter grace. A shiver, not just from being cold, went down her back. She couldn't reall
The vehicle pulled up to the palace gates, the earlier excitement of the outing completely gone. Caius helped me down, his touch polite but distant. He gave a curt nod to the guards before leading me to the grand entrance."Your Majesty," he said, bowing formally to Papa and Mama, who were waiting with concerned expressions. "Queen Isolde. I simply wished to ensure Princess Isla arrived home safely." His tone was carefully neutral, giving nothing away, yet I felt a fresh wave of shame wash over me.Mama's brow furrowed. "Is everything alright, Prince Caius?""Perfectly well, Your Majesty," he replied, his smile tight. "However, Princess Isla seemed a little unwell. I thought it best that she rest." With another formal bow, he took his leave, not meeting my eyes. The sound of his departing chariot echoed the hollowness in my chest.I managed a weak "Good evening" to Papa and Mama, my gaze fixed on the polished marble floor. I just wanted to disappear. "If you'll excuse me," I mumbled,
The announcement of my betrothal to Prince Caius of Eldoria had cast a fragile veil of hope over the worried faces of the court. The kingdom seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief, their future queen seemingly embracing a path of stability and alliance. But beneath the surface of forced smiles and polite congratulations, the darkness within me continued to stir, fueled by unsettling dreams and the persistent, insidious pull of iron.Barely a week after the announcement, a royal messenger announced the unexpected arrival of Prince Caius. Papa, looking genuinely pleased, greeted the young prince in the grand receiving hall.“Prince Caius! A pleasant surprise,” Papa boomed, extending a welcoming hand. “We weren’t expecting you so soon.”Caius clasped Papa’s hand, his smile radiating genuine warmth. “Your Majesty, the journey from Eldoria was smooth. And if I may be so bold, I found myself… eager to spend time with my soon-to-be wife.” He offered a charming smile, and Papa’s eyes t
Liam’s stark warning echoed in my mind, a chilling counterpoint to the insistent whispers of the Blood Moon and the shadowy figure from my dreams. He had looked genuinely scared, and his fear only amplified my own growing terror. But the more he cautioned me to stay away, the more a desperate need to understand took root. What were these dark legends? What did they have to do with the strange changes happening to me?My royal duties offered a thin veil of normalcy, a temporary distraction from the unsettling mystery that clung to me. As the heiress to the throne, I had responsibilities, even amidst my turmoil. A meeting with the kingdom’s elders had been scheduled, a gathering that under normal circumstances I would have approached with eager anticipation. I cared deeply for Equedore, its people, and its future. The thought of one-day ruling, of ensuring their prosperity and peace, was a weight I carried with both pride and solemnity.But this meeting felt different. A shadow of the m
Breakfast the next morning was a tense affair. The clinking of silverware against the delicate porcelain plates was amplified in my ears, each tiny sound a prelude to the brutal clang I now dreaded. I kept my gaze firmly fixed on the detailed patterns of my plate. The aroma of freshly baked bread and roasted meats, usually so comforting, now carried that faint, metallic undercurrent that made my stomach churn.“Isla, you’re barely touching your food,” Papa observed, his voice laced with concern as he lowered the morning’s dispatch. His usually jovial face was creased with a subtle worry.“Just not very hungry this morning, Papa,” I mumbled, pushing a piece of buttered toast around my plate. The lie felt like a lead weight in my stomach.Anne, perched opposite me, her gaze sharp and assessing, didn’t miss a thing. “You’ve been quiet since that incident at the market. Something happened, didn’t it?” Her tone was direct, brooking no evasion.A cold shiver traced its way down my spine, a
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