The Pyranthos palace, carved from golden rock and woven with ancient enchantments, gleamed beneath the midday sun like a crown of fire on the kingdom's brow. Towers spiraled like tongues of flame, their tops etched in ruby and obsidian, glowing faintly with the runes of old. It was a realm where fire obeyed the bloodline, where princesses were not just royalty—they were vessels of ancient power.
Mira Pyranthos, only daughter of the Fire Court and sole heir to the Flameheart Throne, stood at the highest balcony of the Ember Spire. Her flame-kissed hair was braided with phoenix feathers, her gown stitched with molten thread. And yet, her golden eyes, usually smoldering with pride and certainty, were troubled.
She had seen it again.
The vision.
An ocean of ash. A child, her child, calling out through flames and storm. And a voice, not hers but inside her, echoing a name she didn't yet understand: Valeria.
Behind her, the palace hummed with life. Preparations for the Convocation of Royal Elements were underway. The elemental dynasties—the great kingdoms of Air, Earth, Water, Ice, and Storm—had sent their heirs to Pyranthos. Officially, it was to strengthen alliances.
Unofficially, it was to court her.
One princess. A dozen suitors. And enough political tension to light the sky ablaze.
Mira turned away from the balcony just as her attendant entered.
"Your Highness, the suitors have begun arriving. Prince Zephyr of Aetherwind is at the grand gate, and Lord Calder of Thalor sails upriver. Shall I prepare the reception?"
Mira sighed. "Yes. And add extra guards. The vision... returned."
The girl bowed with a flicker of fear. Visions from Mira were not dreams. They were omens.
---
The Hall of Flames, long and arched like a dragon's ribcage, blazed with enchanted torches that danced to the rhythm of the court musicians. Mira sat on the throne beside her father, King Ardent Pyranthos—a man forged of fire and discipline, known across the kingdoms as the Flamebearer.
Prince Zephyr of Aetherwind bowed first. A tall youth with silver eyes and hair that shimmered like sky glass, he exuded calm arrogance. "Your Radiance," he said to Mira, "your kingdom is as radiant as the stories suggest, but it is you who truly commands the flame."
Mira arched a brow. "And you, Prince Zephyr, float on winds thick with flattery."
The court chuckled politely. Mira's eyes shifted to the next arrival.
Lord Calder Thalor.
She sat straighter.
Tall, dark-eyed, and wrapped in a cloak of mist and tide-threaded blue, Calder strode like a tide that knew its power. The moment their eyes met, something clicked—something older than politics.
He bowed, his voice a smooth murmur. "Princess Mira. The sea bows to flame."
Before she could answer, an icy wind swept into the hall.
Princess Elira of Frostmarsh entered in a gown made of crystal snowflakes, flanked by pale-eyed guards. She gave a curt nod to Mira. "Forgive the chill. Heat makes my skin crack."
King Ardent rose, arms out. "Welcome, all heirs of the Elements. Pyranthos opens its gates in peace. May this Convocation bind us tighter than blood."
Behind the applause, a faint whisper touched Mira's ear.
"Beware the velvet storm… A traitor lies in peace's disguise."
---
That night, Mira could not sleep.
She walked the Fire Gardens alone, flames licking the paths as she passed. The night air smelled of spice and coal, and overhead, constellations burned in ancient runes.
She wasn't alone long.
A figure stepped from the shadows. Her cousin, Cassian Pyranthos—exiled years ago, now returned with the excuse of goodwill.
"You should be resting, cousin," he said.
Mira stopped, wary. "So should you."
Cassian tilted his head. "Do the visions trouble you again? Or is it the pressure of choosing a husband from the walking disasters inside the palace?"
Mira didn't smile. "Do you think there's danger, Cassian?"
He hesitated. Then: "The suitors aren't the threat. One of them... doesn't belong."
A scream shattered the garden's peace.
Guards rushed toward the suitors' wing.
Mira and Cassian followed.
In Prince Zephyr's chamber, a servant boy convulsed on the floor, eyes rolled back, veins blackened. Elira stood nearby, frost creeping from her palms, attempting to preserve his body. Calder stood at the corner, tense.
King Ardent arrived moments later. "What happened?!"
A healer bent over the boy. "He's been cursed. This is old magic... forbidden."
Mira stepped forward, heart pounding. This is the start of it.
Zephyr said hoarsely, "I found the flower on my pillow. A frost lotus. We don't grow those."
Everyone turned to Elira.
She snarled. "I would not use my family's sacred flower for something so crude."
King Ardent's voice thundered. "We will investigate. No accusations without proof."
Mira clenched her fists. But as the others spoke, her gaze slipped to Calder. He was staring at her—not with fear, but understanding.
As if he had heard the same whispers.
---
The next day, Mira met with the royal seer.
An old woman blind in one eye, dressed in robes of ember-thread.
"He comes," the seer rasped. "The child who ends and begins all. The fire and sea that births the storm."
Mira felt sick. "You mean me?"
"You… and another. But beware, Princess. They seek to pull you from your path. One wears charm like a second skin. One carries guilt like armor. But the blade waits where love sleeps."
Mira left shaken.
---
At the evening banquet, Mira sat beside Calder, forced by court arrangement.
"You believe in the old prophecies?" she asked.
He didn't blink. "I believe in signs."
"And what sign are you hoping to find here, Lord Calder?"
He leaned close. "You."
She stared at him. "Is that courtship or manipulation?"
He smiled faintly. "Whichever keeps you alive."
---
Later that night, another whisper came.
"The traitor wears the face of one who saved you."
Mira bolted upright in her bed. Her chamber was empty. But the balcony door was open.
A frost lotus lay on the floor.
---
The council was called the next morning.
Each elemental heir stood in a circle around Mira's throne. Her father sat beside her, impassive. Mira wore armor laced with runes—more ceremonial than functional, but it made her feel strong.
"We face an enemy within," King Ardent declared. "Until we find the source, no one leaves Pyranthos."
Whispers erupted.
Cassian stepped forward. "May I speak?"
Mira nodded.
"There is more than one agenda here. Someone fears the fire line. Someone wants to fracture our alliances. And someone wants Mira alone."
The room went silent.
Mira rose slowly. "Then let them come. Let them try to break what we build. Because I will not fall. Not for prophecy. Not for poison. Not for fear."
Her eyes locked with Calder's. Then with Elira's. Then with Zephyr, who still looked pale but alive.
The game had begun.
And the flame had awakened.
---