Chapter 4: The Price of Tampering with Fate

The silence between them was thick, suffocating.

Prince Kael stood before Lyria, his silver eyes dark with something she had never seen before—emotion. It was raw, unfiltered, and it sent shivers down her spine. She had heard the rumors of his curse, of his heart that could never love.

But she had undone something. She had changed him.

And now, he was here, demanding answers.

Lyria’s pulse pounded as she took a slow step back, her mind racing for a way to explain what even she didn’t understand. “Your Highness… I—”

Kael’s gaze sharpened, pinning her in place. “Don’t lie to me.” His voice was low, controlled, but there was an unmistakable edge of desperation beneath it. “Something inside me has changed. I can feel it.” His fists clenched at his sides. “I want to know what you did.”

Lyria swallowed hard. She couldn’t lie.

She had tampered with fate itself.

And now, the consequences were unfolding before her eyes.

“I…” She took a breath, steadying herself. “I touched the loom.”

For a moment, Kael said nothing.

Then, his expression darkened.

“The loom?” His voice was dangerously soft.

Lyria forced herself to nod. “I didn’t mean to, but it called to me. I—I wove something without realizing what I was doing.” She hesitated, then added, “That’s when I saw you.”

Kael’s jaw tensed. “Saw me?”

She nodded again. “In the vision. Your name, your fate—it was like the threads were pulling us together.”

A flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes. He exhaled sharply, turning away as if trying to process her words.

Lyria clenched her fingers together. “I didn’t know it would change anything. I didn’t know it would… affect you.”

Kael let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “Affect me?” He turned back to her, and this time, his expression was angry. “I have spent my entire life untouched by feeling. I knew what I was. I accepted it.” His voice dropped, lower and more dangerous. “But now, I am feeling everything. And I don’t know what to do with it.”

Lyria’s breath hitched. She hadn’t expected this.

She had feared he would be furious, that he would have her thrown into the dungeons for meddling with fate. But this—this was something else entirely.

This was fear.

Prince Kael—the cursed heir, the cold and untouchable prince—was afraid.

Her heart clenched. “Your Highness, I—”

Before she could finish, the air in the room shifted.

A cold, unnatural wind blew through the chamber, extinguishing the candles. The shadows twisted, curling against the walls like living things.

Then, a voice—low and echoing, filled with ancient power.

“You have broken the balance.”

Lyria spun around just as Kael reached for the dagger at his belt.

A figure materialized before them, stepping from the darkness as if they had always been there. The Guardian of Destiny.

Their deep midnight cloak shimmered with starlight, and their eyes—impossibly bright and ancient—fixed on Lyria with cold judgment.

Kael’s grip on his dagger tightened. “Who are you?”

The Guardian barely spared him a glance. “You were never meant to feel, Prince Kael.” Their gaze returned to Lyria. “And you, child, were never meant to weave his fate.”

Lyria’s stomach dropped. “I—I didn’t mean to.”

The Guardian took a slow step forward. “Intent does not matter. You have severed threads that were never meant to be touched. And now, the unraveling has begun.”

Kael’s expression hardened. “Enough riddles. What does that mean?”

The Guardian’s gaze flickered with something grave. “The balance of Elarion is shifting. A force greater than either of you is stirring. And if you do not fix what has been broken…”

The temperature in the room dropped. The walls creaked, and the shadows writhed.

“…the kingdom will fall.”

Lyria’s breath came in short gasps. “Fix it? How? I don’t even know what I did.”

The Guardian studied her for a long moment. Then, they lifted a hand, and a golden thread appeared, floating in the air between them.

It glowed, pulsing faintly.

Lyria’s breath caught. She recognized it. It was the thread she had woven into the loom.

The one that had bound her to Kael.

“You must unweave what you have done,” the Guardian said.

Lyria’s heart pounded. “And if I don’t?”

The Guardian’s expression was unreadable. “Then the curse will not simply be undone—it will be replaced with something far worse.”

A shiver ran down her spine. “Worse?”

The Guardian’s gaze shifted to Kael. “Your Highness, you are cursed to never love. But now that this thread has been woven, you can.”