The dawn after the awakening felt heavier than usual.
The palace bells tolled in the distance, announcing the beginning of another royal day — but to Ryo, it sounded more like a warning.
He sat by the window of his chamber, watching the crimson sun rise through the mist. The faint glow caught on the mark over his chest, burning faintly beneath his shirt. Every pulse felt like a reminder — the curse was awake.
Caro hovered nearby, pretending to tidy his desk, though her worried glances betrayed her thoughts. The faint scorch marks from the night before had vanished, but the memory of that whisper — the awakening has begun — lingered between them like smoke.
"Master Ryo," she said softly, "you haven't eaten since yesterday. At least have something—"
"I'm not hungry."
His voice came out colder than intended. She flinched slightly, and guilt immediately followed. "Sorry," he added, sighing. "I didn't mean—"
"I know," she said gently. "You're… different today."
Ryo looked at her sharply. "Different how?"
She hesitated. "Your eyes. They look… tired, but also… sharper. Like you're seeing something the rest of us can't."
He turned away. "Maybe I am."
For a moment, silence filled the room — until a knock broke it.
The door opened without waiting for permission. A guard in black armor stepped inside, bowing stiffly. "Prince Ryo Asskar. His Majesty requests your presence in the throne hall."
Caro frowned. "Now? It's barely dawn."
The guard didn't answer her. His gaze remained fixed on Ryo, expression unreadable. "His Majesty insists."
Ryo rose slowly, adjusting his cloak. "Tell His Majesty I'll be there shortly."
When the guard left, Caro whispered, "Why would the King summon you so early?"
Ryo smiled thinly. "Because I raised my voice yesterday."
Her eyes widened. "That's why? But you only spoke the truth—!"
"The truth," Ryo murmured, "is the last thing the King wants to hear."
The throne hall was filled with cold light when Ryo entered.
Columns of marble rose like frozen giants, their reflections mirrored in the polished floor. Courtiers lined the edges — whispering, watching.
And on the golden throne, the King sat in silence.
He was a tall, severe man with a crown that seemed too heavy for his thin frame. His eyes, a chilling gray, never blinked as Ryo approached.
"Your Majesty," Ryo said, bowing. "You called for me."
The King's voice was quiet, measured — dangerous. "I did. There was talk after yesterday's council. They say the cursed prince forgot his place."
Ryo met his gaze. "I spoke against a lie."
"You challenged your uncle," the King corrected sharply. "You accused a member of my court of deceit before the nobles. That is no small offense."
"He was lying," Ryo said, struggling to contain his temper. "He framed the border soldiers for stealing the royal tributes. I had proof—"
"Enough!"
The word cracked through the hall like thunder. Everyone fell silent.
The King rose, descending the steps of his throne with slow, deliberate steps. "You think your curse makes you untouchable, boy? That I won't see the danger you bring into my palace?"
Ryo's jaw tightened. "If I am dangerous, it is because no one here lets me prove otherwise."
Gasps rippled through the courtiers. A few exchanged uneasy looks — the prince speaking in defiance of the King again.
The King stopped inches away from him. "You forget where your life stands, Ryo Asskar. I spared you when others demanded your execution. Remember that before you raise your voice in my hall again."
For a moment, their eyes locked — two storms colliding.
Then the King turned away. "Leave me. And stay within your quarters until further notice."
Ryo bowed stiffly and left the hall, the whispers following him like ghosts.
When the heavy doors closed behind him, the King's expression darkened.
From the shadows beside the throne, a man stepped forward — tall, lean, wrapped in dark leather. His eyes were sharp as blades, his presence like smoke.
"Your Majesty," he said quietly, bowing. "You wish me to begin?"
The King nodded slowly. "Yes, Varen. Watch the cursed prince. Every move, every word. I want to know who he speaks to, what he hides, and where he goes at night."
Varen smiled faintly, the kind of smile that didn't reach the eyes. "It will be done. Shall I report to you directly?"
"Only to me," the King said. "No one else must know."
"As you command."
The spy vanished into the corridors like a shadow fading from light.
That evening, Ryo felt the weight of unseen eyes.
Every step in the corridor echoed too long. Every candle flame seemed to flicker toward him, as if pulled by an invisible presence.
He tried to focus on the letters scattered on his desk — royal decrees, meaningless words — but his mind was elsewhere.
The mirror. The sigil. The whispers.
And the King's voice echoing in his skull: I spared you when others demanded your execution.
He touched his chest unconsciously, feeling the faint throb of the mark beneath the fabric. It was quieter now, but still alive — like something waiting for him to make the wrong move.
Caro entered quietly, holding a small plate. "You skipped lunch again, my lord."
Ryo forced a small smile. "You're persistent."
"It's my job." She set the plate down and noticed his trembling hands. "You're shaking."
He tried to laugh it off. "It's cold."
But Caro didn't buy it. She stepped closer, gently taking his wrist. "Your veins… they're red."
He frowned. "What?"
She turned his palm toward the light. Beneath his skin, faint crimson lines pulsed — not blood, but light, as if something alive was coursing through him.
"Master Ryo…" she whispered. "That's not normal."
Ryo pulled back quickly, covering his hand. "I know."
"What's happening to you?"
He hesitated. He wanted to tell her everything — the mirror, the whispers, the curse's voice — but he couldn't. If anyone overheard, she'd be punished, maybe worse.
"Caro," he said softly, "if anything happens… if I lose control… promise me you'll run."
Her eyes glistened. "Don't say that. Please."
"I mean it." His voice broke slightly. "I don't know what's inside me anymore."
She reached out, gripping his sleeve tightly. "Then I'll stay until you find out."
He stared at her, caught between fear and gratitude. Before he could speak, a faint click sounded from the corridor outside.
A shadow moved past the crack of the door.
Ryo's instincts sharpened. He rose silently and crossed to the door, opening it a fraction — nothing. Just an empty corridor lit by dim torches.
But he felt it.
Someone was there.
He stepped out, scanning the hall, eyes narrowing. The only sound was the flutter of a distant banner — and then, faintly, the sound of a footstep fading into the distance.
Later that night, when the palace slept, Ryo stood on his balcony.
The city below glimmered under a blood-red moon. The air carried the scent of iron — or maybe it was just his imagination.
He closed his eyes, whispering, "If you're there… show yourself."
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, behind him, the invisible book materialized again on the desk, its cover glowing faintly. The pages fluttered open by themselves, stopping on a single phrase written in red ink:
"They watch you because they fear what you'll become."
Ryo's throat went dry. "What… will I become?"
The ink bled across the page, forming new words:
"You are not cursed, Ryo Asskar. You are chosen."
The air grew cold. The candles dimmed. And from the mirror's broken shard — which he had kept hidden beneath a cloth — a faint whisper echoed.
"The King knows. The spy walks your shadow."
Ryo froze. His heart pounded. He turned toward the window — and for a split second, he saw movement on the opposite rooftop.
A figure cloaked in black, watching.
He grabbed the curtain, snuffing out the light.
The next morning, the palace was buzzing.
Rumors had begun to spread — that the cursed prince's chamber glowed crimson at night, that the air near his window froze, that the servants whispered about shadows moving when no one was there.
The King sat in his chamber, listening as Varen knelt before him.
"Well?" the King asked.
Varen's voice was calm. "The prince is hiding something, my liege. I saw the light myself. There is power in him — unnatural power."
The King's eyes darkened. "I feared as much. Continue to watch him. And if he loses control…"
Varen's lips curved into a faint, merciless smile. "I'll be there."
Meanwhile, Ryo sat with Caro in silence, both pretending the world outside wasn't closing in.
She poured tea, hands trembling slightly. "You think someone followed you again?"
"I know it," he said. "I can feel it — like breath on my neck."
"What will you do?"
He stared into the tea's reflection — his own face flickering, distorted by the ripples. "I'll pretend not to notice. If I confront him, the King will know the curse hasn't broken me. But if I play the part of the obedient prince…"
"You'll buy time," Caro whispered.
He nodded slowly. "And time is all I need."
As he spoke, the mark beneath his shirt pulsed once — stronger, brighter.
Caro's eyes widened. "Your chest— it's glowing again!"
Before he could respond, a surge of pain shot through him. He fell to his knees, gasping as crimson light erupted beneath his skin, tracing every vein like fire. The tea spilled, the room trembled, and the air filled with whispers.
Caro caught him, panicked. "Ryo! What's happening?"
He clenched his jaw, trying to speak — "It's… reacting… to something—"
Then, from outside the window, a faint metallic glint — Varen, the spy, watching. The crimson glow reflected in his cold eyes.
Ryo's power flared once more, then faded suddenly, leaving him shivering and pale.
Caro looked toward the window — but the shadow was gone.
That night, as the palace slept, Ryo lay awake.
The whispers had returned, faint but clear this time, echoing in his skull:
"The King moves against you. The curse is your weapon. The blood remembers."
He whispered back, voice trembling, "What do you want from me?"
The answer came like a breath on his ear:
"We want what was stolen — the throne, the soul, the truth."
And as the moonlight carved across his face, Ryo realized something terrifying — the curse wasn't just alive.
It had a purpose.