Cursed by the Crown

The wind howled through the cracks in the cottage walls, slipping through like ghostly fingers, biting at Jade’s skin. The dying embers in the hearth barely fought against the cold, their glow casting flickering shadows over the rough wooden floors and meager furnishings. A thin blanket was draped over the single chair, her mother’s knitting needle resting beside it, forgotten.

The scent of damp earth and burning tallow candles clung to the air, mixing with the faint aroma of stale bread from the small table in the corner. The Vale family had once known better days—when her father’s smithing work had been enough to fill their bellies, when the walls of their home had not been lined with cracks, when Jade had not spent her nights wondering if tomorrow would bring more hardship.

But hard times had a way of making themselves at home, settling in the bones of the weary.

Jade was in the kitchen, rolling dough for their evening bread. She thought of how she had become so used to doing this on her own. When was the last time her mother had been the one to bake? The last time her father had lifted a hammer instead of sinking into his own world of frustration? Every day seemed to bleed into the next, and Jade found herself filling the gaps—the quiet spaces her parents had left behind. They didn’t mean to leave her to carry the weight. They just... did.

She glanced over at her mother, who sat beside the hearth, her eyes distant. She had been staring at that same spot for what felt like hours, as though the flames were a window into something far beyond their small, fading cottage. Jade couldn’t understand it.

Why aren’t you worried? Jade wanted to ask her mother, but the words wouldn’t come. How could she? Her mother had enough sorrow in her heart already. The way she just sat there, as if the world outside didn’t matter, was something Jade envied. But it also hurt. Because Jade was the one who saw their life unraveling, while her mother only saw the flickering fire.

A fist rapped against the door—three sharp, deliberate beats.

Jade’s heart skipped. Visitors? At this hour?

Her mother looked up at her from the hearth, her brow furrowing, “Jade—”

“I’ll get it,” Jade said, her voice steady despite the chill running down her spine.

She forced her feet to move, each step heavier than the last, her pulse quickening. She hadn’t expected this. Her father’s voice echoed in her mind: Don’t trust strangers. Never trust them.

When she opened the door, the wind howled louder, almost as if it were warning her. A cloaked figure stood on the doorstep, a royal courier.

Jade’s stomach twisted. It wasn’t possible. They couldn’t possibly want her family. Her father’s name was already as good as condemned. She could feel the weight of it in her bones, but she reached out and took the letter anyway.

The courier didn’t speak. He simply thrust the parchment into her hands and turned to leave, his boots crunching against the frost-covered ground.

The door creaked as she shut it, the sound eerily final.

Jade’s hands shook as she traced the black wax seal. She could already feel what it meant—the Draven sigil, a raven’s wing. The evil prince’s symbol.

She swallowed hard.

Her mother’s voice broke through her daze, “Jade...”

Jade’s gaze flickered over the words, her eyes scanning them over and over, desperate to find some different meaning. But they were the same. No matter how many times she read it, the words never changed.

“Edwin Vale has been found guilty of treason against the Crown. By order of Prince Kieran Draven, he is to be executed at dawn.”

Jade exhaled shakily. A cold sweat prickled across her skin, the heat of the hearth failing to touch her. Her hands trembled violently as she held the letter, her chest tightening with each breath. She read the last line once more.

“A bargain may be struck. One life for another. The House of Draven does not refuse a willing trade.”

Jade closed her eyes, squeezing the paper until the edges crumpled under her fingers. Her throat felt tight, as though something heavy was pressing against her chest, suffocating her. The decision was already made. She had no choice.

She could let her father die. Or she could sacrifice herself.

“I have to go,” she whispered under her breath.

Her mother’s soft voice broke through, pulling Jade from her thoughts, “What is it, hon?”

Jade swallowed the lump in her throat. She turned to face her mother, trying to force a smile. But the tears in her eyes betrayed her. Her mother looked so peaceful, so calm: but how could she be? Didn’t she see? Didn’t she feel the storm in the air?

“I… I have to go away for a couple of days,” Jade said, her voice barely above a whisper, her hands trembling as she tried to hide them by gripping the edge of the counter.

Her mother looked up at her, a slight frown furrowing her brow, “Is that so?” she asked, the concern in her voice unmistakable.

Jade nodded, her heart hammering. She should tell her. She should explain everything: but how could she? How could she tell her mother that her life was about to change forever?

“When?” Her mother’s voice was soft, but Jade could hear the hint of worry there.

“Tonight,” Jade said, forcing the words to come out.

A long silence filled the room, thick and heavy. Jade held her breath, praying for her mother to understand. Do not ask why. But her mother only nodded, as though she knew something had shifted.

“Alright then. You may go.”

Jade barely registered the words, her thoughts already miles away. Her mind was focused on the letter, on the price she had to pay. Her father’s life, or hers.

“I’ll be back,” Jade said, her voice cracking as she gave her mother one last smile.

As she turned to go upstairs, she couldn’t help but glance back at her mother. She was still sitting by the hearth, looking so small, so vulnerable.

And Jade wondered—would this be the last time she saw her? Would this be the last time she saw the home she had always known?

She shook her head, willing herself not to think about it. She didn’t have time to think about it. Not now.

✧ ✧ ✧

Once she entered her room, Jade quickly shut the old door behind her. Jade pressed her back against the door, the letter shaking in her grasp. She read it again. Then again. Hoping the words could somehow magically change. They never did…

She tipped her head back, forcing silent sobs down her throat. Tears burned her cheeks, but she bit them back. Her mother couldn’t hear.

A few moments passed before Jade forced herself to move. Crying wouldn’t change anything. She had to leave.

She wiped the remaining tears from her face, blinking away the rest. Focus. Pack. Go.

Her gaze flickered around her small room—her dresser, her vanity, the bed that had once felt safe. She would miss this place. The familiarity, the quiet warmth of her mother just downstairs.

Jade squared her shoulders and strode to the dresser. She yanked out a few clothes, shoving them into her worn backpack. Pack light. Move fast. Don’t think.

She stole a glance at the clock. 1:37 PM. The hands inched forward, dragging her closer to the moment she would have to step into a life she never knew.

Her fingers clenched around the worn straps of her bag.

Would she ever come back?

A lump formed in her throat, but she shoved it down.

She had a bargain to make. And there was no room for second thoughts.

Jade slung her bag over her shoulder, her gaze sweeping over the room—memorizing it, committing it to memory like a final goodbye.

Swallowing a sob, Jade walked out of her room and walked down the stairs to see her mother in the same place. Jade forced a smile and walked over to her mother, her bag still swung over her shoulder. It was undeniably light.

“I’m, uh, going to leave now…” Jade said, still forcing her smile and trying her best to hide her somber expression.

Her mother looked up at her and gave her a soft smile, “Okay, be safe.”

“I will.”

Her mother extended her arms for a hug and Jade took them. Savoring their warm embrace and burying her face in the crook of her mothers neck, wishing she never had to let go. But she did. She had to.

Slowly, Jade pulled away from the hug, and looked at her mother, “Goodbye… I love you.”

“I love you too. Toujours et pour toujours.”

“Toujours et pour toujours…” Jade said and turned away from her mother and walked to the door, taking a quick glance at the old house around her. At the beige chipped paint, the dusty floors, and even the wooden mantel. Savoring the moment.

Jade quickly faced the door to avoid crying or doing something pathetic. She had to avoid that.

She gripped the metal handle and opened the door, stepping outside and closing it behind her.

Jade stepped away from the door, expecting to see the empty stretch of wilderness beyond her front yard. Instead, what greeted her was something entirely unexpected.

A carriage stood before her—old yet undeniably elegant, its sleek frame draped in deep shades of black and midnight blue. The colors shimmered like a black opal, dark and mesmerizing, a jewel she had only ever dreamed of owning.

Jade’s black skirt swayed around her legs as she stepped forward, the fabric sturdy yet allowing ease of movement. Designed for practicality rather than elegance, it bore subtle pleats that shifted with each measured step. A slit along one side ensured she wouldn’t be hindered, though the cool night air nipped at her skin where the fabric parted.

She kept her shoulders squared, her movements purposeful as her boots crunched against the frost-dusted ground. The carriage loomed before her, its polished frame glinting beneath the moonlight, the horses standing eerily still as if waiting—watching.

A man stepped out of the horse-drawn carriage, clad in all black. A wide-brimmed hat shadowed his face entirely, obscuring his features in darkness.

His footsteps were slow, deliberate—each one calculated, as if he were measuring the distance between them. Something about the way he moved sent a shiver down Jade’s spine.

He stopped a few yards away and wordlessly gestured toward the carriage.

“In,” he said, his voice low and firm.

Jade frowned, crossing her arms. What did this man want?

“Excuse me?” she replied, irritation creeping into her voice. The audacity of this stranger to speak to her like that—like she had no choice in the matter.

The man didn’t move, didn’t shift, didn’t even seem to breathe. He simply stood there, waiting.

Jade’s pulse quickened.

“No explanation? No introduction?” she pressed, tilting her head, “You just expect me to climb into a carriage with a complete stranger?”

The man remained silent for a beat, then spoke again, voice smooth as silk but edged with something sharp.

“There is no time for questions.”

Jade narrowed her eyes. Every instinct in her body told her not to trust him, yet the letter in her pocket burned like a brand against her skin. This was the price of her choice. And hesitation wouldn’t save her father.

She inhaled slowly, forcing steel into her spine.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me who you are,” she said, standing her ground.

A long silence stretched between them. Then, finally, the man lifted his head just enough for the moonlight to catch his jawline—a glimpse of something cold, something unreadable.

“I am merely the one sent to retrieve you.”

Jade’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. He was infuriatingly vague, but what choice did she have? She could turn away now, shut the door, pretend none of this was happening…

But that would mean letting her father die.

Her throat tightened.

With one last glance toward her darkened home—the place she had always known, the place she might never see again—Jade exhaled sharply and stepped forward.

The man extended a gloved hand to her. She ignored it and climbed into the carriage on her own.

The moment she settled onto the velvet seat, the door snapped shut behind her.

And with a jolt, the carriage lurched forward—into the night, into the unknown.

The unknown, away from her life…