Prologue
The Velmoria Treasure
Long ago, in the kingdom of Velmoria,
a prince was madly in love with one of his servants.
Yet, bound by duty and royal blood, he was forced to marry a princess from the southern realms.
"My love," the prince spoke softly, his eyes filled with regret,
"I must marry the princess of the South. Yet my heart belongs only to you, now and forever."
The servant's voice trembled with betrayal.
"How can you say that? How can you betray our love so easily, my king? Was everything between us a lie?"
"No, never," the prince pleaded. "But I have a duty—to save my kingdom, I must do what is required.
Take this necklace as a symbol of our love. I swear, when the time is right, I will return.
Wait for me, my queen."
But he never returned.
Heartbroken and consumed by grief, she wandered alone, her sorrow festering into hatred.
With her last breath, she spoke a curse upon him:
"My king… you are a traitor. From this day forth,
your bloodline and hers shall never find peace.
Those who inherit your blood will be drawn to one another with a love that burns fiercely,
yet their fate shall end in tragedy. Their love will never be fulfilled.
Until one fulfills my demand: bring me the king's blood. Only then shall this curse be broken."
Present Day
Ashley had fallen asleep at her desk, exhaustion weighing heavy on her eyelids.
In the silence, a soothing voice—soft and melodic—began to read beside her.
A girl with golden, wavy hair, flawless and radiant, stood nearby.
Her scent was a delicate mix of rose and lavender.
Ashley tilted her head, eyes hazy with sleep.
The girl smiled gently.
"Ashley," the girl spoke, her voice smooth and ghostly.
"End this suffering. You are the one."
And then—she was gone, vanished as if she were never there.
Suddenly, Emily appeared at Ashley's left side, her expression soft and sorrowful.
"Because… you are stronger than me," Emily's voice trembled.
"Emily! Is that you?" Ashley shouted, reaching out with desperation.
But Emily's form crumbled into dust and veins, slipping through her fingers.
"Ashley!" Sebastian's voice cut through the haze, firm and tense.
Ashley turned to him, eyes wide and filled with questions.
"Why do you keep calling for Emily?" Sebastian demanded, his grip on her shoulders tightening.
"I need her—I need answers," Ashley's voice cracked.
"No," Sebastian snapped, his eyes dark with frustration.
"I think we should go back. Let's just drop this investigation."
Ashley stared at him, not with anger but with eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"It's too late now, Sebastian. You and me… we…" Her voice faltered.
"We what?" Sebastian pushed, desperation bleeding into his tone.
Ashley's breath hitched. "Our feelings—the curse—I need to break it."
She rose abruptly, but Sebastian caught her wrist, holding her back.
His hand drifted to her neck, his touch both gentle and commanding.
He leaned in, almost close enough to kiss her.
His eyes bore into hers, fierce and unyielding.
Ashley's breath hitched. "No, we can't," she whispered,
shaking her head, her voice cracking.
Sebastian's gaze darkened with intensity. His lips parted.
"Then, kill me."
The words sliced through the air—raw, final.
Ashley's throat tightened painfully, her voice barely a rasp.
"No…" Ashley said, low and breathy.
Sebastian's voice dropped, his resolve cracking.
"It hurts, doesn't it?"
Ashley's eyes widened in shock.
He continued, voice trembling.
"I love Clara! I had her! And yet, this curse is forcing me to love you, Ash!
I can't even look at Clara's face now.
It hurts me more than you, Ash! Just—kill me, please!"
His hands trembled as they reached for her neck—not to strangle,
but to force her to act, to end his torment.
He shoved Ashley against the bookshelf, his eyes wild, desperate.
Ashley gasped for air, her hands scrambling for something—anything—
But then—"Sebastian!"
Clara's voice rang out, sharp with confusion and fear.
She stood at the doorway,
eyes wide and stricken, her hands trembling.
Sebastian's head whipped around, his eyes locking onto Clara's.
In that instant, his expression crumbled, despair flooding his gaze.
"Sebastian… what are you doing?" Clara's voice was small and broken.
Ashley tore herself free, breathless and panicked.
"No, Sebastian! There must be another way—I just need to find the answer!"
Ashley turned and bolted, her footsteps echoing down the library corridor.
Sebastian moved to follow, but Clara's hand caught his sleeve, stopping him in his tracks.
She stared into his eyes, her voice trembling.
"Sebastian… tell me what's going on."
But Sebastian couldn't—he wouldn't.
He just looked into her eyes, so many words tangled in his throat, unsaid and heavy.
His gaze lingered, longer than it should have, as if he were memorizing her face for the last time.
All he managed was a hoarse whisper:
"I love you, Dove."
His hand slipped from hers, and he took off after Ashley, leaving Clara behind—shattered.
Clara sank to her knees,
sobs wracking her frame,
her tears falling freely onto the cold floor.
For the first time…
Sebastian didn't look back for her.
He just left her.
And Clara felt like his words were a goodbye.
She cried.
Somewhere beneath a shadow at some distance, Seraphina watched it all.
Outside
Ashley made her way to Emily's grave,
her breaths ragged, eyes rimmed red.
She stood before the headstone, voice trembling with desperation.
"Emily… what are you not telling me?"
Her hands clenched at her sides.
"Please… show me the way."
Her vision blurred with tears, the silence stretching cold and unfeeling—
until a soft tap on her shoulder jolted her back.
She spun around—only to find Elbert standing there,
a faint, cryptic smile playing at his lips.
He extended a letter toward her, hands steady.
Ashley's brows knit in confusion.
"What is that?"
Elbert's eyes glinted with dark amusement.
"To the cursed one," he murmured smoothly.
His smile deepened, a smug tilt to his lips,
and without another word,
he turned and walked away, disappearing into the mist.
Ashley tore open the envelope, hands trembling.
The note read:
"If you want to learn the truth,
come meet me at the abandoned farm in Dravenfel."
Later
Sebastian caught up with Ashley.
They stood there, breathless, eyes locked.
"Forgive me," Ashley whispered, her voice unsteady.
"Forgive me too," he replied softly, taking a step forward.
"We both know what has to be done, right?"
Ashley smiled, raised her hand, wiping away a tear.
"I still have a lead."
That night, Sebastian and Ashley rode a single horse, venturing into Dravenfel.
The darkness hung heavy, shadows stretching long and foreboding.
Ashley clung to him from behind, her face pressed into his back, shoulders trembling.
"I don't want to love you," she murmured, her voice muffled and raw.
Sebastian felt her tears seeping through his shirt, warm and aching,
but he said nothing—his silence heavy and unspoken.
Then a memory of Clara hit him.
Clara's laughter rang out, soft and unguarded,
her eyes bright beneath the starlit sky.
They stood together on the balcony, the night air cool and fragrant with blooming flowers.
"Sebastian," Clara called gently, her voice warm.
"Do you see those stars?"
He followed her gaze, eyes tracing the constellations.
"That is my love for you," she confessed, voice quiet but sure.
Sebastian frowned. "How?" he asked.
Her eyes shimmered as she spoke.
"Because stars are always there.
Sometimes you can't see them, but they're still watching over you—just like my love.
Sometimes you can't feel it, but it's always here, in me."
Back in the present, Sebastian's hands tightened on the reins,
His chest tightened painfully.
A single tear slipped down his cheek, shattering the silence—
the memory cutting deeper than any blade.
Then.
They arrived at the abandoned farm.
Ashley's eyes drifted toward the old stone bridge ahead.
Its color had long since faded, worn down by sun and rain.
The path was partially hidden by wild grass, curling over the edges.
Beneath it, a small riverbed lay dried up.
Towering trees stretched overhead, their branches weaving together like a canopy.
Yet through the thick leaves, a single ray of sunlight broke through,
illuminating the bridge perfectly.
Sebastian dismounted the horse first.
Then he reached out to Ashley.
"Come," he said. "We go on foot from here."
They walked together through the thick grass, Ashley's eyes scanning the area.
Something about it seemed familiar.
Symbols on the crumbling walls stirred a memory she couldn't quite place.
She whispered, "Sebastian… I think this place was once a town."
Sebastian looked around, trying to remember.
Ashley's eyes fixed on the bridge wall.
"Look at that—a colorful painting," she murmured as they walked across the bridge.
Her fingers stroked gently over the bright hues, almost reverent,
as if touching a memory long buried.
Then—a door.
They looked at each other.
Sebastian held her hand, his gaze fixed on hers—part warning, part feverish resolve.
"Let's go in. But if this leads nowhere… you know what must be done."
Ashley's eyes flickered with worry.
Then, Sebastian opened the door.
Inside, it was darker—almost all the windows were barred.
Yet a single candle flickered, and a fire crackled softly in the fireplace.
They stepped in, Sebastian holding Ashley tightly, protective.
Then, a voice—a woman's voice, smooth and poised. It echoed through the dim room:
"Welcome, Lady Ashley Grayson and Lord Sebastian Vale."
Both Ashley and Sebastian froze.
"Who… who are you?" Sebastian demanded.
The woman stood behind a kitchen counter, smiling.
"My name is Mary Holloway," she said gently.
"A good friend of Lady Cassandra Ravensdale and Lady Evelyn Montgomery."
"WHAT!?" Ashley gasped, eyes wide.
"No way—Ms. Holloway, they declared you dead! Along with the Montgomerys!"
Ms. Mary's smile was faint, almost sorrowful.
"Some truths are hidden for others to gain power," she replied softly.
"It was the same for the Ravensdale and Everleigh families."
Ashley's voice trembled.
"Please, Ms. Mary… tell me what you know."
Ms. Mary's smile was small, weary.
"Yes, please—have a seat."
As they gathered by the fireplace, Ms. Mary began her story:
"Long ago, when Emily was little, her life was perfect—until the Whitmore family grew envious of the Ravensdales," Ms. Mary began.
"Once united, the Ravensdale and Everleigh families could surpass Whitmore in power.
So Whitmore threatened the Ravensdales—to marry Emily to Arthur, or face ruin.
But her mother saw it all. To save Emily, she orchestrated her own daughter's kidnapping."
Ashley's breath caught. "Wait—the Black Swan?"
Ms. Mary nodded.
"As a loyal friend, Captain Brendon Lancaster led the Black Swan.
We took Emily, bringing her here, cutting her off from the outside world.
But Whitmore saw through it. He killed her mother and blamed the Everleigh family, shattering their alliance."
Ms. Mary's voice softened, almost regretful.
"We knew everything—that's why Brendon took the Black Swan, Gordon, Aaron, and the rest.
Our plan was to let Gordon find Emily by himself, yet… we failed."
Ashley's eyes widened in disbelief.
"No way… this changes everything!" she breathed.
"I need to let people see—the Ravensdales weren't greedy. The real greedy ones were—"
Suddenly.
The door creaked open.
Arthur stepped inside, flanked by two men—broad-shouldered and stern, their eyes cold and unblinking.
Golden hair swept back flawlessly, his eyes glinting with a sharpness that sent a chill down Ashley's spine.
His lips curved into a polite smile, but there was no warmth—only a cruel amusement, as if he were savoring a game only he understood.
The bodyguards moved with precision, closing the door behind them with a soft click.
"Ah, Lady Ashley Grayson," Arthur drawled, voice smooth as silk.
"What a surprise to find you here. I must admit, it's rather bold of you to step into a viper's nest uninvited."
Ashley's breath caught, but she held his gaze, defiant.
Arthur's eyes flickered with dark amusement.
"And Lord Sebastian Vale, of course," he continued, inclining his head.
"How noble of you to escort her. Loyalty truly is a rare gem these days."
He took a step forward, slow and deliberate, the firelight casting shadows over his face.
"I must confess," he murmured, "I didn't expect you to uncover so much… and yet, here you are, unscathed. Impressive, really."
Arthur's smile widened, just a fraction—enough to reveal a hint of malice.
"But tell me, Lady Ashley…" his voice dipped, velvet and venom,
"did you truly believe you could uncover secrets without consequence?"
The room seemed to shrink, the air heavy with tension.
Ashley's heart pounded in her ears, her fingers curling into fists.
And in that silence—thick and suffocating—Arthur's eyes glinted with the promise of danger.
To be continued…
Next: Chapter 14 — The Serpent's Smile