The grand halls of the Distorting Empire’s palace were as cold as they were beautiful. High-vaulted ceilings bore murals of triumphs long past, while marble columns shimmered faintly in the dim light of flickering torches. To an outsider, the palace might have seemed a place of splendor, but to Kaela, it was a gilded prison.

Kaela sat on the edge of her bed, fingers trailing over the worn embroidery of her dress. Despite the delicate fabric, its faded colors spoke of her father’s disregard. Her 18th birthday should have been a celebration—a grand ball with glittering lights, music, and laughter. Yet, in the eyes of Emperor Dorian, her father, it was a day to be ignored, her very existence a stain upon his legacy.

A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. Mirea, her handmaid and one of the few who treated her with kindness, entered with a small tray. The offering was modest: a slice of bread, a single apple, and a cup of tea.

"Happy birthday, my lady," Mirea said softly, placing the tray on a nearby table.

Kaela forced a smile. "Thank you, Mirea. You’re the only one who remembered."

The older woman hesitated before speaking again. "The emperor has summoned you to the throne room."

Kaela's heart sank. Her father rarely called for her, and when he did, it was never for anything good. Rising, she smoothed her dress and followed Mirea through the winding corridors.

As she approached the throne room, the heavy doors creaked open, revealing Emperor Dorian seated on his towering golden throne. His piercing gaze met hers, and she felt as though he could see every insecurity she tried to hide.

“Kaela,” he began, his voice cold and detached, “your future has been decided. You will leave the palace tomorrow.”

She froze. “Leave? Why?”

His lips curled into a cruel smile. “I have arranged for you to marry a nobleman in the neighboring province. It is time you served some purpose for this empire.”

Kaela’s mind raced. A marriage? To whom? Why so suddenly? Before she could voice her protest, Dorian dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

“You are dismissed. Prepare yourself.”

Back in her room, Kaela sat in stunned silence. Her thoughts churned as she tried to piece together the truth behind her father’s decision. A sense of unease crept into her chest.

Late that night, she overheard whispers outside her door—guards speaking in hushed tones about an “elimination” during the journey. Her blood ran cold. Her father hadn’t arranged a marriage. He had arranged her execution.

_________________________________

my God!!!!!!

what's if she gets executed and story end

or

If, She is reborn again..

Hi guys this Vidika the author. This is my firstever only uploaded story hope you guys enjoy

between

fls character intro

Kaela (FL):

The hidden and powerless princess of the Distorting Empire, viewed as a burden and shame by her father.

At 18, her latent destructive powers are awakened, but she has no idea about their true extent.

Gentle and compassionate, she hides her identity in the Holy Empire to escape the trauma of her past and lead a peaceful life.

The morning air was heavy with an unusual stillness as Kaela sat by her window, watching the sun rise over the cold, angular towers of the palace. Her father’s words from the previous night echoed in her mind, each syllable laced with venom. She hadn’t slept, haunted by the whispers of treachery she’d overheard.

Mirea entered quietly, carrying a travel cloak and a small leather satchel. “My lady, your carriage is being prepared,” she said softly. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a tension in her shoulders that Kaela didn’t miss.

“Mirea,” Kaela said, her voice trembling, “do you know anything about this journey?”

The handmaid hesitated, then stepped closer, lowering her voice. “I have heard things… things I cannot confirm. But you must be cautious, my lady. Trust no one.”

Kaela’s hands clenched tightly in her lap. Mirea’s warning only solidified her fears. She needed to act, but how? She was under constant watch, her every move scrutinized.

Later that morning, the palace courtyard buzzed with quiet activity. A small procession of guards stood by the carriage, their expressions grim. Emperor Dorian was absent, his disdain for his daughter evident even in his refusal to see her off.

Kaela stepped into the carriage, her heart pounding as the heavy wooden door shut behind her. As the wheels began to turn, the sound of hooves on cobblestone filled the air, a rhythmic reminder of the journey ahead.

For hours, the carriage moved steadily through the dense forests that bordered the Distorting Empire. The lush canopy overhead created a mosaic of shifting shadows, adding to Kaela’s unease. She glanced at the guards riding beside the carriage, their faces devoid of emotion.

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and red, the procession came to an abrupt halt. Kaela peered out the small window and saw a group of armed men blocking the narrow road ahead.

Her breath hitched. These weren’t ordinary bandits—they wore no insignia, but their coordinated movements and sharp weapons spoke of trained soldiers.

One of the guards dismounted and approached the group, speaking in hushed tones. Kaela strained to hear, but the words were lost to the rustle of leaves. Moments later, the guard returned, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

“Stay inside, my lady,” he said, his tone colder than before.

But Kaela’s instincts screamed at her to move. She opened the opposite door, her heart racing as she scanned the forest for an escape route. Just as she stepped down, an arrow whizzed past her, embedding itself into the wooden frame of the carriage.

Chaos erupted. The guards turned their weapons on the attackers, but it quickly became clear that the ambush was no coincidence. The attackers overwhelmed them with precision, cutting through the defense with ease.

Kaela stumbled back, her legs threatening to give way beneath her. One of the attackers spotted her and began advancing, sword glinting in the fading light. She froze, her mind blank with terror.

Before he could reach her, a deafening roar filled the air, and a blur of silver and gold crashed into the scene. Mounted on a white stallion, a figure in ornate armor fought with the grace of a seasoned warrior. His sword moved like lightning, cutting down the attackers with ruthless efficiency.

Kaela’s vision blurred as exhaustion and fear overwhelmed her, but not before she caught a glimpse of the man’s face. Piercing blue eyes, a firm jawline, and an aura of command.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice steady and calm.

Kaela opened her mouth to respond, but darkness claimed her before she could utter a word.

Kaela awoke to the sound of soft voices and the faint scent of lavender. Her body ached, but the warmth of the plush bedding beneath her brought an unfamiliar comfort. Blinking against the gentle sunlight filtering through sheer curtains, she found herself in a grand yet welcoming room, unlike anything she had ever known in the Distorting Empire.

“Good, you’re awake,” a deep voice said.

She turned her head to see the man from the forest sitting by the bedside. In the soft morning light, his sharp features were more evident—his blue eyes held a mix of concern and curiosity, and the golden embroidery of his tunic hinted at his status.

“I’m Lucian, Crown Prince of the Holy Empire,” he said. “You’re safe now.”

Kaela tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through her side, forcing her back onto the pillows. “Where… where am I?” she managed to whisper.

“You’re in my palace,” Lucian replied. “I found you during an ambush in the forest. Who were those men? And why were they after you?”

Kaela’s heart raced. She couldn’t reveal the truth—not yet. “I… I don’t know,” she said, her voice trembling. “They attacked without warning. I was traveling to a neighboring province for… an arranged marriage.”

Lucian’s brow furrowed. “An ambush during an arranged marriage journey? That seems far too convenient.” His gaze softened. “You don’t have to be afraid. No one will harm you here.”

Kaela hesitated, searching his face for any sign of deceit. But all she saw was sincerity. Still, she knew better than to trust so easily. “Thank you,” she said simply.

Lucian stood. “You’ll need rest to recover. My physician will check on you shortly. In the meantime, I’ve arranged for some clothes and food to be brought to you. If you need anything, let the attendants know.”

Before leaving, he paused by the door. “I’ll have someone keep watch outside your room. You’re safe here, I promise.”

As the door closed behind him, Kaela exhaled shakily. She didn’t know whether to feel relief or fear. The Holy Empire was a far cry from her father’s court, but danger still lurked—if not from Lucian, then from the truths she carried.

---

Later that day, Kaela ventured out of her room for the first time. The palace was unlike anything she had seen: golden domes, sprawling gardens, and hallways alive with warmth and light. Servants bustled about with kind smiles, and the air carried a sense of peace.

She wandered into a balcony overlooking the gardens, where children played under the watchful eyes of their parents. A pang of longing struck her. This world seemed so foreign yet so inviting—a stark contrast to the rigid, cold halls of the Distorting Empire.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Kaela turned to see Lucian approaching. His armor was gone, replaced by a simple tunic and trousers, making him look less like a prince and more like an ordinary man.

“Yes,” Kaela said softly. “It’s very different from… where I’m from.”

Lucian leaned on the railing beside her. “You haven’t said much about where that is.”

Kaela stiffened. “It’s… far away. A small province.”

Lucian didn’t press further. “You don’t have to tell me everything now. But you should know—there’s no place for lies or secrets in the Holy Empire. If you’re hiding something, it’s better to share it before it causes harm.”

Kaela bit her lip. His words weren’t a threat, but they carried weight. She nodded, unsure of what else to say.

---

That night, Kaela lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Her mind raced with thoughts of her father, the ambush, and the man who had saved her. She had escaped death, but at what cost?

Her fingers traced the edge of the blanket as she made a silent vow: she would not let herself be a pawn in anyone’s game—not her father’s, not Lucian’s, not anyone’s.

For the first time in her life, she resolved to take control of her fate.