The room plunged into darkness.
The torches died out with a hiss, leaving only the pale light from the balcony behind them. Elira's breath hitched, her heartbeat thunderous in her ears.
"W-what just happened?" she whispered.
The Prince didn't answer.
"Elarion," he murmured again, the name like a ghost leaving his lips. "You heard it."
"I… I didn't understand it," she stammered. "It echoed in the dream. In the wind. But I heard it."
Suddenly, he was beside her again. Too close. His presence was magnetic—intimidating and yet impossible to pull away from.
"Elarion isn't just a name," he said, voice low. "It's a curse. One that binds my soul to the mirror… and to someone else."
She backed slightly, her shoulders brushing the edge of the table behind her. "Someone else?"
"You."
Elira blinked. "What?"
He leaned in, eyes locked on hers. "If you heard that name… and you saw my face… the mirror didn't choose you by mistake."
"I—I don't even know what that means."
"It means," he said slowly, "you're part of something ancient. Forbidden. Something that even the King doesn't know I've been looking for."
His hand came up again—not rough this time, but almost like a question—and gently cupped her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheek.
"You should've died the moment you touched that mirror. Every other soul who tried… burned."
Elira's breath caught. "Then why didn't I?"
"I don't know," he whispered, voice tightening. "And that terrifies me."
They stood frozen in that moment—so close she could feel the heat of him, the cold magic in the air, the sparks of something neither of them understood curling between them.
"You're scared of me," she said softly.
He gave a dry chuckle. "I'm scared of what you mean."
Silence again.
Then his voice, quieter this time, as he stared at her lips, then her eyes.
"I don't know if I want to kill you... or kiss you."
Her heart flipped, and her mouth opened to respond—but she had no idea what to say. The tension between them had thickened like fog, charged with energy she couldn't explain.
Then—
A sudden slam at the door.
"Elric!" a voice shouted from the hall.
The prince flinched, his hand falling away.
"Elric?" Elira echoed.
He looked at her with surprise, then cursed under his breath. "Forget you heard that name."
Before she could press him further, the door flew open. A soldier, pale and panicked, entered.
"Your Highness. The King—he's calling an emergency council. Something's happened at the southern wall."
Elric turned, jaw tight. "I'll be there."
The guard glanced at Elira. "What about her?"
"She stays," the Prince said sharply. "No one touches her unless I say so."
The guard nodded and left, the door slamming behind him.
Elira stepped forward. "What's happening?"
The Prince's eyes lingered on her for a long, unreadable moment.
Then, barely above a whisper—
"They know you're here."
And he was gone.