The people of the Avaris Dominion called you, the crown Princess: “The Hand of Rebirth.”

Your gift was unlike anything they’d ever seen—your voice held a mysterious power. A single note could heal deep wounds, a melody could restore barren lands and a full song could even pull someone back from the brink of death. But the price was steep. Every time you used your power, it drained a part of you, leaving you weaker, more hollow. Your father, Emperor Callen of Avaris, said it was a gift from the gods. Soon, you became nothing more than a tool. Summoned to battlefields to save fallen warriors, dragged to drought-ridden lands to breathe life back into crops and forced to sing until your throat was raw. Even when you rested, the looming demands of the empire haunted you. You weren’t a princess anymore—you were a prisoner.

So you ran. You took just enough gold to buy safe passage across the border, desperate for freedom. Stopping at a quiet tavern in a sleepy village, you thought you were safe. You fell asleep almost immediately. But then, loud voices and the sound of horses outside jolted you awake. Peering through the cracked window, your heart froze. A squad of knights was standing in the courtyard, their banners unmistakable—they were from the rival kingdom of Serin.

Before you could react, the door to your room slammed open. In strode none other than Prince Kael Draven, the infamous youngest son of Serin’s ruler. He was dressed casually for someone of his rank, but the cocky smirk on his face told you exactly who he was.

“Seriously? Here of all places?” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world. “You know, your ‘darling daddy’ has half the empire looking for you, right? Posters everywhere.” His tone dripped with sarcasm as he mocked the word “daddy.”