Chapter 26

" How… how could King Kyrell do this to his own people?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Claire shook her head, her expression one of deep sorrow. " He’s not like any king you’ve ever known. There’s no kindness in him, no mercy. He’s been cursed, and so has this land. The darkness here… it’s because of him."

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words pressing down on me. This king, this place—it was worse than I had imagined. The thought of being forced to witness such horrors, or worse, being made a part of them, filled me with dread.

I sat there, staring at my reflection in the old, cracked mirror. I hardly recognized the girl looking back at me. I knew that whatever awaited me at these harvesting games, I had to be ready. But how could anyone ever be ready for something like that?

Claire’s hands trembled slightly as she finished with my hair, her voice barely above a whisper when she spoke again. “ No matter what happens today, no matter what you see in the harvesting games, you must always act happy. Smile, even when the creature slaughters the children. Whatever you do, you must not cry—not a single tear.”

Her words sent a shiver down my spine. “ Why?” I asked, my voice quivering with fear. “ Why should I act like I don’t care?”

Claire’s gaze was somber as she looked at me. “ Many have tried to save the people from the pit—the children, the innocents—and they all paid with their lives. Even the king’s wife… He threw his own wife into the pits to be slaughtered by that creature.” She paused; her voice filled with sorrow. “ His son didn’t even protest. He just watched as his father threw his mother into the pit.”

I stared at her, horrified. “ The king has a son?” I asked, the shock evident in my voice.

Claire nodded; her expression grim. “ Yes, he does.”

I could hardly process the information. The idea that the king could throw his own wife into such a horrid fate and that his son would stand by without a word chilled me to the bone. What kind of monsters were they?

After Claire finished with my hair, she stood up, looking at me with sad eyes. “ Madam Winfield will come for you shortly,” she said, her voice flat, as if all the life had drained from her. She collected the tray and slipped out the door, locking it behind her.

Time seemed to drag as I waited in that dark, cold room. My mind raced with fear and dread, my stomach churning with anxiety over what awaited. Every sound made me jump, and the weight of what Claire had told me pressed heavily on my chest.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open, and Madam Winfield stepped inside. In her hands, she held a set of heavy chains, the metal clinking ominously as she walked. Without a word, she tossed them at my feet, her cold eyes narrowing as she looked at me.

“ Tie yourself up,” she ordered, her tone as icy as her gaze.

I hesitated, fear paralyzing me. “ Why?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

Her glare intensified, and I could feel the chill of her stare in the pit of my stomach. “ It’s just a precaution. The king fears you might try to escape.”

With trembling hands, I picked up the chains and started wrapping them around my legs and feet, the cold metal biting into my skin. I didn’t know if I could trust Madam Winfield, but I knew I had no choice. Once I had secured the chains around my legs, she stepped forward and tied my hands, the tightness of the bonds sending a wave of panic through me.

She led me out of the room and down the dark stone halls, the sound of my chains echoing in the silence. Each step felt heavier than the last as we moved deeper into the castle, the weight of what was to come pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket.

When we finally reached the entryway, I froze. Standing next to the king was the same red-haired man who had captured me that night. His blood-red hair was unmistakable, and my heart pounded in my chest as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing.

In a low voice, I whispered to Madam Winfield, “ Who is that?”

She didn’t look at me, her expression as cold as ever.

“ That is King Kyrell’s son, Hezron,” she said, her tone devoid of emotion.

My heart sank further. So this was the king’s son—the one who had watched as his mother was thrown into the pit. The man who had captured me and brought me to this cursed place. I could see the same cruel glint in his eyes that I had seen in his father’s, and a wave of dread washed over me as I realized just how deep the darkness ran in this family.

I was scared, more than I had ever been.

When Hezron's eyes met mine, a twisted smirk crept onto his face—a smirk that made my blood run cold. It was a look of recognition, of cruel satisfaction. My mind flashed back to that night when I had bitten his lip as he tried to force a kiss on me. His words echoed in my memory, threatening that I would pay for what I’d done. And now, as I stood chained and helpless, I could see that he was savoring this moment.

As we approached King Kyrell, Madam Winfield handed the chains over to him. Without a word, he yanked on them, pulling me forward with such force that I slammed into his chest. The impact knocked the breath out of me, and I recoiled at the cold, decaying feel of his grayish flesh. His scent was overwhelming—like rotting death—and I struggled to keep from gagging. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Hezron’s smirk widening, his sadistic pleasure evident.

“ Come now,” King Kyrell’s voice was rough and commanding, his grip on the chains tightening as he pulled me along. “ We don’t want to be late for the games. I wouldn’t want to miss a single thing.”

I stumbled after him as he led the way outside the castle. The sight that greeted me was a nightmare—the dark, black carriage waiting for us was pulled by the same demon-like creatures that had captured me that night. Their pale, fleshy skin clung grotesquely to their bony frames, their eyes glowing with an eerie, hostile light. I did not ask what they were because then they would know that I wasn’t from Dravonia.

King Kyrell climbed into the carriage first, then gave a sharp tug on the chains, forcing me to follow. My heart pounded in my chest as I climbed in, the heavy chains clinking with every movement. As I entered, Hezron walked around to the other side and slid in beside me, his eyes never leaving mine. His lips curled into a mocking smile, and he made kissing gestures at me, his expression full of dark amusement. The bile rose in my throat, and I had to fight to keep from retching.

As the carriage jolted forward, the two men began talking, their voices low and serious. My ears perked up at the mention of Valtor, and a wave of dread washed over me as I listened closely.

“ I’ve sent out more troops,” King Kyrell said, his tone cold and calculating. “ They’re searching for the girl with the blue flame. We need to find her, Hezron.”
Hezron nodded, his smirk fading as he grew serious.

“ If she’s in Valtor, we’ll find her. The girl bearing the blue flame is the key. She’s the one who can break the curse, who can shatter the barrier.”

I stiffened, the weight of their words sinking in. My mind raced as I pieced together the implications. They were looking for a girl with a blue flame—a girl who could break the curse that trapped their kingdom. And I knew, deep down, that they were talking about me. I was the girl with the blue flame, the one they were so desperately seeking.

Everything inside me went ice-cold. My breath caught in my throat, and I struggled to keep my expression neutral, not wanting to give anything away. Fear coiled tightly around my heart, squeezing it painfully. I couldn’t let them know the truth. If they realized I was the girl they were looking for, there would be no escape—no hope of survival.

The carriage rattled along the rough road, each bump jolting me back to the terrifying reality I faced. As we drew closer to the harvesting games, I felt a deep, paralyzing fear settle over me. Whatever awaited me there, I knew I had to be strong. I had to follow Claire’s advice and keep a smile on my face at all times.


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