Leo and his team soared across the open skies, cutting through the morning air with relentless speed. Beneath them, the vast forests stretched endlessly, their emerald canopies rippling like waves under the rising sun. Hills rolled beyond them in soft curves, fading into the horizon, while clouds drifted lazily below—thin and silver, like rivers of mist winding through the sky.
The wind howled past them, tugging at their clothes and hair, but none of them spoke. The urgency in their hearts silenced any need for words.
Far ahead, barely visible through the haze of distance, the city of Dichondra shimmered in the early light. Its towering walls stood like guardians of stone, while rooftops glinted faintly gold under the sun's first touch. From this height, it looked peaceful… untouched.
But they knew better.
They were still an hour away.
And an hour, in moments like this, could mean everything.
Leo clenched his jaw, his eyes locked on the distant city. Every second felt heavier than the last, as if time itself had turned against them. Somewhere ahead, a lie was unfolding—a perfect illusion crafted to deceive an entire kingdom.
And they were racing to shatter it.
Meanwhile, within the grand walls of Dichondra, the city pulsed with life.
The streets were alive with celebration. Citizens filled every corner, their voices rising in excitement as banners of gold and crimson danced in the breeze. Flowers lined the walkways, their sweet fragrance blending with the hum of anticipation. Today was not just any day—it was a royal wedding, a union that symbolized peace, prosperity, and hope.
At the center of it all, Prince Keane arrived at the castle.
The crowd parted as he passed, bowing in respect, some even kneeling as his figure moved with calm, regal confidence. His expression was warm, composed—every detail of his presence carefully crafted to perfection.
Inside the grand hall, the atmosphere shifted to something more solemn.
The towering pillars, etched with ancient carvings, seemed to watch silently as Prince Keane approached the throne. Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, painting the marble floors in hues of gold, blue, and crimson.
At the far end sat King Henry and Queen Ella.
Keane knelt before them with flawless precision, his head bowed in humility.
"My king, my queen," he spoke, his voice smooth and respectful. "I come before you today not only as a prince, but as a man who wishes to devote his life to your daughter. I humbly ask for your blessing."
His words carried sincerity—convincing, elegant, and utterly deceptive.
The king exchanged a glance with the queen, both of them smiling gently. To them, there was no reason for doubt. The man before them was everything a royal suitor should be—graceful, composed, and devoted.
"You have our blessing," King Henry declared.
Queen Ella nodded warmly. "Take care of her."
Keane lifted his head, offering a grateful smile.
"Of course."
But behind that smile… something darker lingered.
Something unseen.
Escorted by the royal knights, Keane walked through the ornate halls of the castle. The polished floors reflected every step he took, the sound echoing faintly in the vast corridors. Tapestries hung along the walls, depicting the long history of the kingdom—battles fought, alliances forged, legacies built.
All of it meant nothing to him.
He was led toward the heart of the city—the grand plaza where the ceremony would take place.
And there, everything had been prepared to perfection.
High above the celebration, far removed from the noise and joy below, Ethan stood alone on a quiet rooftop.
The wind brushed softly against him, but he barely felt it.
His gaze was fixed on the plaza.
On her.
Princess Katelyn.
Even from a distance, she stood out—radiant, graceful… and heartbreakingly distant. Servants moved around her, adjusting her gown, preparing her for the moment that would bind her life to another.
Ethan's chest tightened.
Memories flooded his mind without warning—her laughter, soft and genuine… the quiet moments they had stolen away from the world… the dreams they had once shared, fragile but real.
He clenched his fists.
He wasn't supposed to be here.
He had no place in what was about to happen.
And yet… he couldn't leave.
The ceremony began as the first light of morning fully embraced the city.
7:00 AM.
The grand plaza was filled to the brim with citizens, nobles, and knights. Every seat was taken, every eye focused on the altar at the center, adorned with flowers and golden ornaments that shimmered under the sun.
Prince Keane stood waiting.
Perfectly still. Perfectly composed.
His attire reflected the traditions of Nimblewill—elegant and refined, each detail symbolizing honor and unity. To the world, he was the ideal groom.
But beneath that flawless exterior, the presence of Zagan remained hidden… watching.
Waiting.
Then, the crowd fell silent.
All eyes turned toward the entrance.
Princess Katelyn appeared.
A collective breath seemed to leave the city all at once.
Her gown shimmered like flowing light, each step she took graceful and measured. She was breathtaking—every bit the princess the people adored.
But there was something else.
A quiet sadness.
Her eyes, though steady, carried a weight no one else seemed to notice.
King Henry and Queen Ella walked beside her, guiding her forward with gentle pride. To them, this was a moment of joy.
To her…
It was something far more complicated.
Above, Ethan felt his heart break all over again.
He watched her walk toward the altar… toward Keane.
Toward a life that didn't include him.
His breathing grew unsteady as memories clashed with reality. Every step she took felt like a step further away from everything they had once dreamed of.
He pressed his hand against the cold stone beneath him, grounding himself.
He couldn't move.
Not yet.
The ceremony continued flawlessly.
Vows were spoken.
Prince Keane's voice was calm, steady, convincing.
"I vow to stand beside you, to guide and protect you, and to honor the bond we share."
Not a single crack in his performance.
But when it was Katelyn's turn…
Everything changed.
Her hands trembled.
Tears slipped down her cheeks, catching the sunlight as they fell.
"I… I promise… to honor… to obey…" Her voice faltered, breaking under the weight of each word. "To stand beside… even if my heart aches…"
The silence that followed was heavy—but unnoticed by most.
To them, it was simply emotion.
To her…
It was the truth slipping through.
Ethan couldn't take it anymore.
Every word she spoke felt like a blade.
Every tear… a silent cry he couldn't ignore.
The moment arrived.
The final moment.
The air grew still as Prince Keane leaned forward.
Katelyn hesitated, her breath trembling.
The city held its breath.
Then—
A flash of steel.
A blade cut through the space between them, glowing faintly with arcane energy.
Gasps erupted across the plaza.
Before anyone could react—
Ethan appeared.
Not from above.
Not from the crowd.
But from nothing itself.
As if space had torn open to let him through.
Time seemed to fracture.
The world slowed.
Katelyn's eyes widened as she turned—
And there he was.
Without hesitation, Ethan reached for her.
His grip was firm, protective, certain.
"Come with me," he whispered.
And she didn't resist.
In the next instant, light warped around them
And they vanished.
Gone.
Just like that.
The plaza exploded into chaos.
Guards rushed forward.
Citizens cried out in confusion.
Flower petals scattered wildly through the air, drifting down like remnants of a broken dream.
Prince Keane stood frozen.
For a moment—just a moment—his perfect composure cracked.
Something dark flickered behind his eyes.
Something furious.
Silence fell again.
But this time, it wasn't peaceful.
It was the silence of something going terribly wrong.
Elsewhere—
Katelyn blinked as the world reformed around her.
The noise, the crowd, the pressure—it was all gone.
Replaced by quiet.
By stillness.
By him.
Ethan stood before her, his chest rising and falling as emotion overwhelmed him. His eyes shimmered, filled with everything he had been holding back.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Reality felt distant.
Uncertain.
Like a dream they were afraid to wake from.
Then Katelyn moved.
Without hesitation.
Without doubt.
She stepped forward and kissed him.
It wasn't gentle.
It wasn't careful.
It was desperate.
Real.
Alive.
When she pulled back, her voice was barely a whisper.
"Thank you… for saving me… from my worst nightmare."
Ethan froze.
The weight of everything crashed down on him at once.
What he had done… wasn't just reckless.
It was defiance.
Against the crown.
Against the kingdom.
Against fate itself.
He had crossed a line that could never be undone.
Exile.
Punishment.
Even death.
All of it was possible now.
But as he looked at her—
None of it mattered.
Not anymore.