I was born under celestial signs, foretold to be Empress with future rulers as my children. Prince Corvin and Lord Regent Darian fought for me. Darian won, making me Empress. Yet all three of my children died young. After another birth, I overheard Darian and Corvin: "Lyra improves with the child's essence," Corvin said. "But sacrificing three children..." "It's their destiny to sustain Lyra," Darian replied. "She'll live a century—the realm's most revered woman. "And the fate exchange?" Corvin asked. "All is ready." Their love was a lie. My children and I were tools for their ritual. In despair, I burned myself to ashes—denying them their wicked end. 1 "Uncle, what are we waiting for?" Corvin's voice was sharp with urgency. "Let Elara exchange her life force with Lyra now, before delays invite complications." Darian waved a dismissive hand. "No hurry. The sorcerer stated that Elara, having just given birth, is at her most vulnerable. The ritual must wait at least seven days, otherwise it could compromise the efficacy of the life transference." His eyes were cold, unwavering. "Lyra's well-being is paramount. I will not permit any unforeseen mishaps." Corvin hadn't considered that detail. He clasped his hands in a gesture of apology. "Indeed, Uncle's foresight is admirable. Lyra approaches her twentieth year; until this matter is settled, my heart remains heavy with unease." My hands trembled, refusing to believe the horror I had just heard. I froze, paralyzed by the revelations, tears streaming uncontrollably from my eyes. My three precious children, carried for ten months and born amidst unimaginable pain, were nothing but offerings, sacrificed by their own father to prolong the life of his beloved. After the first two children perished, I approached this last pregnancy with an almost unbearable caution. I never yearned for them to become future rulers or wield great power. All I wished for was their peace and safety. Yet, even that humble desire was cruelly denied. Even the fiercest beast protects its young. How could Darian treat his own flesh and blood with such monstrous cruelty? It was then that I finally understood why, each time I emerged from the agony of childbirth and the grief of losing a child, he would relentlessly press me to conceive again. The world spoke of my blessed fate, how I was born to be Empress. They claimed Darian loved me beyond measure, that he had even dismissed his entire court of ladies for me. Little did I know, every word, every gesture, was built upon a foundation of insidious lies. He and Corvin had deceived me so profoundly, their betrayal twisting my very soul. I stumbled backward, my legs unsteady. My foot caught on something, and I pitched forward violently, landing with a sickening thud. "Who's there?" Darian's keen ears caught the sound. He rushed out, and seeing me pale and collapsed on the floor, he instantly scooped me into his arms, his face etched with alarm. "Elara, my dearest, your strength hasn't returned. Why are you out of bed? What if you catch a chill and develop a lingering illness?" The concern on Darian's face seemed genuine. Yet, had I not overheard their monstrous confession moments ago, how could I have known that my beloved husband harbored another woman in his heart, that he had murdered our three children for her, and now sought to claim even my own life? My eyes red-rimmed, I pleaded softly, "Darian, I... I want to see the baby. Please, just let me see him, won't you?" Even if it was only a corpse, I needed to see him. He was a piece of my very being, my precious child I had yearned for during ten long months. Meeting my gaze, Darian’s eyes flickered. "Elara, our child... he is gone." His voice softened, almost a caress. "But rest assured, I have summoned the Grand Chaplain to perform the rites for his soul. He will surely find eternal rest in the afterlife." He squeezed my hand. "Your most important task now is to regain your strength. We will have other children, my love." My gaze dimmed in that instant. Children? No. We would never have children again. Darian, still uneasy, personally carried me back to my chambers. He then severely punished all the palace staff who had failed to properly attend to me. He was always like this, never hesitating to display his profound regard and affection for me in public. For years, I had been lost within the intricate web of his lies, living a beautiful dream of being loved. Now, jolted awake, I was left with nothing but agonizing wounds and a burning hatred. That night, my sleep was restless, plagued by nightmares. All I could hear were the desperate, pleading cries of my three poor children. "Mother, Mother, it hurts so much!" "Mother, save us…" My heart felt as if it were being shredded. I wanted to rush forward and embrace them, but an invisible force held me pinned to the spot. I could only watch, helpless, as the blade descended upon them, again and again. When I finally thrashed my way awake, my pillow was soaked with tears. 2 I could no longer contain myself. Like a madwoman, I rushed to the nursery I had prepared for my child, clutching his tiny clothes to my chest, sobbing uncontrollably. I had meticulously prepared clothes for him, from infancy up to his tenth year. Yet, his own father wouldn’t even grant him a chance to live. As I wept, a strange sound suddenly registered in my ears. I followed the eerie noise to the rear courtyard, discovering it emanated from a dry well. A voice in my head screamed at me: Don't go. Don't go. But a chilling intuition told me that whatever was inside held a terrible significance. My legs stiff, I shuffled step by painstaking step to the well's edge. Gathering my courage, I peered down. The sight that met my eyes instantly stole my breath, sending me sprawling to the ground. At the bottom of the dry well, several vultures were tearing at something swaddled in a tattered cloth. A horrifying realization slammed into me. I scrambled up, snatching a handful of stones. "Get away! Get away! Don't touch him!" I shrieked. "Give him back to me!" Startled by my sudden outburst, the vultures scattered. I scrambled frantically into the well, my ankle twisting brutally as I fell. I gazed at the tiny, bruised bundle of flesh, its face no longer discernible, a gaping hole torn through its chest. My throat constricted, choked by unspeakable horror. I opened my mouth, but no sound escaped. It wasn't until Darian and his guards arrived, equally stunned by the gruesome scene in the dry well, that I found my voice. His face turned ashen. "Who did this?" he roared. "Did I not command you to properly inter the Prince? How did he come to be in this wretched well?" The Emperor's fury was palpable. The Chief Steward and the guards immediately fell to their knees, terrified, not daring to breathe. Then, Darian himself descended into the well. He carefully cradled me, pressing my head gently into his chest. "Elara, don't be afraid. I swear, I will find justice for you and our child." It was then that I snapped out of my stunned horror. That day, a wail of profound sorrow echoed through the entire palace. Overwhelmed by grief and rage, I collapsed into unconsciousness. In my hazy state, I dimly heard Darian speaking to someone. "Master," he urged, "she is unconscious. Will this affect the life transference ritual for Lyra in a few days?" A sharp pain lanced through my chest. What were my children and I to him? He had seen our child's horrific end, yet his only concern was for that woman. "The Empress has merely suffered a great shock," the Master replied. "A few days of rest and proper care, and she will recover without lasting harm." Darian visibly relaxed. He remained by my bedside, trying to spoon medicine into my mouth. When I refused to open it, he clamped my jaw, then pressed his lips to mine, forcing the liquid down. Disgusted, I was just about to open my eyes when a guard burst in. "Your Majesty, dire news! A messenger from the secluded manor reports that Miss Lyra has suddenly collapsed, spitting blood. It seems… it seems she is gravely ill!" 3 Darian shot to his feet. "Master, what is the meaning of this? You swore the child bore Elara’s lineage, that his vital essence possessed miraculous properties. You said if Lyra consumed it, she would not only gain extended life but also evade the Cosmic Balance, allowing her to secretly exchange fates with Elara! Why is she suddenly spitting blood and unconscious?" The Master flinched, visibly taken aback. "The Empress’s son was of an exceptionally auspicious destiny, marked to be a future ruler. Miss Lyra, being inherently frail, likely could not withstand such potent life-energy." "Now, only by forging a life-binding pact between Miss Lyra and the Empress, transferring the Empress’s very life force to Miss Lyra, can this be remedied." "Then why do you delay?" Darian dragged him to the bedside, his voice sharp with urgency. The Master hesitated. "But the Empress is currently gravely ill. If we proceed forcefully, her life might not be preserved." Darian sneered. "I don't care. If anything happens to Lyra, I will see every one of you pay with your lives." Hearing his ruthless words, the Master dared not protest further. He immediately dispatched his assistants to prepare the ritual. Panic flared in my heart. I could no longer feign unconsciousness. I clutched the covers, shrinking into a corner, my eyes fixed on him with fierce suspicion. "Darian, what are you trying to do to me?" Darian's face paled when he saw me awake. He didn't know how much I'd heard. He forced a strained smile. "Elara, my dearest, you're ill. The Master is here to tend to you." His voice became a soothing lie. "Just rest now, won't you? When you wake, all of this will be over." Even now, he sought to deceive me. I let out a harsh, derisive laugh. "Stop pretending! I know everything you've done. You murdered my son, and now you want to sacrifice my life for Lyra? Dream on!" Darian's expression shifted. "Elara, what are you saying? I don't understand." His voice was still deceptively gentle. "I am deeply pained by the loss of our child. I have already punished the palace staff who failed in their duties. Your most important task now is to rest. Please, try not to dwell on these things, alright?" He reached for me, but I thrashed my arms, accidentally striking his face. "Get away! Don't touch me!" My voice cracked with anguish. "Just because Lyra was foretold to not live past twenty, you cruelly murdered my three children to prolong her life? Darian, they were your own flesh and blood! Does your conscience not scream?" Darian stared at me, dumbfounded, as if he hadn't expected me to know even that. He dropped the pretense. His face twisted into a momentary snarl. "Lyra is inherently pure and innocent! She has done nothing wrong! Why should fate be so cruel to her? I will defy destiny! I will see her healthy and living a hundred years, free from all harm!" My eyes burned with fury. "And what did my children do to deserve this?" I roared. "Is this fair to them? Is this fair to me?" Darian's face darkened, a flicker of madness in his eyes. "I care for nothing else! As long as I can save Lyra, I would sacrifice every soul in this realm! I would stop at nothing!" His gaze sharpened, menacing. "Elara, since you know everything, it would be best if you cooperate willingly. You will suffer less pain that way." 4 With a subtle flick of his eyes, he signalled his guards. They seized me, pressing me down, firmly pinning me to the bed. The Master approached, holding a small vial. I struggled with every ounce of strength, but could only watch in horror as my skin was sliced open, and a writhing, sickly green worm crawled into the wound. The moment it entered, a searing, agonizing pain erupted through every fibre of my being, as if a thousand unseen creatures were devouring my flesh from within. I thrashed wildly, screaming, convulsing on the bed. Even the guards couldn't hold me down for a moment. A flicker of something akin to pity crossed Darian’s eyes. He made a move to step forward, but the Master's voice cut through the chaos: "Your Majesty, the blood charm is complete. The life transference ritual will succeed in three days." Darian's face lit up with a triumphant smile. When his gaze fell upon me again, it held only ruthless resolve. "Bind her!" he commanded. "If anything happens to her in these coming days, you will all answer to me!" My face deathly pale from the agony, I was bound hand and foot and thrown onto the bed. After that, Darian came to see me every single day. I refused to eat, so he would pry open my mouth and forcibly pour broth down my throat. I choked, my ragged coughs tearing through me. Darian looked down at me, his gaze imperious. "Elara, if you are obedient, you will remain my Empress. I will ensure you want for nothing." His voice hardened. "But if you dare to seek death and ruin my plans, I will desecrate the child’s remains, scattering his ashes to the winds, ensuring that you and your son are never reunited, not in this life, nor in any other!" I stared at him, unable to comprehend. Had he not done enough by murdering my child? Now he threatened me with his corpse! "You monster! He was your child too! How can you do this to him?" My eyes burning crimson, I lunged at him, wanting to tear him apart, to avenge my child. But he merely shoved me away. Darian bent over me, his gaze chillingly dismissive. "As long as you are obedient, I naturally won't resort to such measures." Finally, I could bear it no longer. I crumpled to the floor, despairing, sobbing uncontrollably. I regretted it all. Why hadn't I listened to my father's warnings? Why had I insisted on marrying him? My father was the realm's foremost Grand Seer. His prophecies were never wrong. He had foretold my auspicious destiny, that I was destined to be the Empress of Aethelgard. Later, when Darian ascended the throne and sought my hand, my father cast the runes for me once more. Every reading was empty, devoid of clear destiny. He urged me to reconsider, but I was blinded by Darian's honeyed words, and I still believed my father's initial prophecy could not be mistaken. The prophecy said I would one day rule as Empress, and Darian's first act upon taking the throne had been to crown me. I never imagined it was all a carefully laid trap, a grand scheme to exchange Lyra’s life for my own. My folly, my terrible mistake, had to end here. Darian feared I would seek death, so he had guards stationed outside my chambers day and night. But he didn't know: if someone truly desires death, no one can stop them. In the pre-dawn hours, as the guards outside grew drowsy, I dragged my pain-wracked body to the table and deliberately knocked over the lit candelabra. By the time the guards reacted, roaring flames had already consumed the entire chamber. I sat on the floor, laughing a raw, guttural laugh. For this day, Darian had schemed for years. I would see his hopes shattered, his elaborate plans reduced to ashes. Even if it meant eternal damnation, I would drag them down with me.
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