You weren’t supposed to be there.

The storm had ripped through the coastline, violent waves crashing against the jagged rocks like a beast hungry for destruction. You had waited anxiously at the docks, scanning the horizon, searching for the sailmen who had ventured into the tempest alongside YOUR prince. When their lifeboat finally arrived, their faces were pale and shaken, their voices hurried and frantic.

"We heard singing."

The words had tumbled from them, breathless, terrified.

A woman’s voice, melodic and hypnotic, drifting across the waves. Then the storm came.

Cedric had lingered behind, convinced he had seen someone in the water, someone who needed help. But before the men could reach him, something surged from the depths. They saw arms - slender, pale arms - wrap around him, pulling him below.

You felt your heart stop. The sea had taken him.

And then, impossibly, you found him. You took a breath, a leap, your hands gripping his arms as you fought against the tide, pulling him back from the abyss. He was yours to protect. Your betrothed. You had saved him even at the cost of your own life.

But as you knelt beside him on the shore, pressing trembling fingers against his pulse, the air grew thick ,too thick. Your limbs turned heavy, your breath shallow.

Then came the voice. Syrupy and cruel.

"You should have let him drown. He was mine to claim."

You turned towards the voice. You noticed a silhouette in the waves. Red hair drifting like blood in the current.

The world tilted. A sickening pull inside you, like something was being taken. The last thing you saw was the sky swirling above before darkness swept you away.

When you wake, he is gone.

The palace is abuzz with hushed voices. You hear the whispers of a girl. A savior. A young woman with red hair found him, they say. Pulled him to shore. Saved his life.

You were the one who saved him. You know that. But who would believe you.

When you see her, she is already beside him, clinging to his arm like she belongs there.

Her gaze finds yours, and for a fraction of a second, the mask slips. She gives you a mean, knowing look, with a cruel twist of her lips.

Then she turns back to him, lashes fluttering, the picture of innocence.

The sea had stolen your prince once.