At nine years old, I stopped hiding from my reflection.
Beauty, they warned, was dangerous. But I had learned its truth: it was power. A weapon that unsettled, distracted, commanded. And I wielded it as deftly as silence, as precisely as poise. When people looked at me, they saw only what I allowed. Nothing more.
That morning, my parents' words had been a blade's edge against my throat.
"You cannot move like a child anymore," my father said, arms folded behind his back. "The world watches. Hungers. Some will seek to cage what they cannot possess."
My mother's touch was softer, her voice a whisper against my ear. "You shine too brightly, Kael. Even allies will flinch from the glare."
I adjusted the silver sash at my waist. "I'm not afraid of their eyes."
Her fingers lingered on the mole beneath my right eye, a mark of inheritance, of status. Now, a brand. The elders had begun their hunt for my future consort.
"Fear isn't the point," she murmured. "Beauty stirs longing. Longing festers into resentment. Never forget that."
I didn't.
And so I walked into the summit hall as if the air itself bowed to me.
The pavilion floated above the Aether Divide, suspended by spatial anchors, the very fabric of the world bending around its edges like silk under a seamstress's hand. The heirs of the great clans had gathered River a steady presence at my right, Lior prowling behind me, Astoria weaving through the crowd, collecting secrets.
Then,
The air changed.
Valen Vaelstrom entered without ceremony, yet the room bent around him like gravity had shifted.
Moonlit stormcloud hair, white bleeding into deep blue. Robes like woven midnight, thunderbolt embroidery pulsing with restrained energy. He moved with the precision of a blade sheathed in velvet.
And when his gaze found mine, I didn't blink.
He approached, all lazy grace and coiled tension. "Vorian heir," he said, voice smooth. Too smooth.
"Vaelstrom heir," I replied, tilting my chin just enough to be polite.
A slow, assessing look. "They didn't exaggerate. You're… striking."
"And you're more restrained than your reputation implies."
A laugh, low and unguarded. "Most forget how to lie when faced with beauty. I don't."
"Then lie better," I said.
He stepped closer, his gaze lingering on the mole beneath my eye. "A bold mark."
"Not a choice. A statement." I smiled, razor-thin. "One your clan should recognize, given its… implications."
His mouth twitched. "You don't like being teased."
"And you don't like being obvious," I countered. "Yet here we are."
For the first time, something flickered behind his eyes, not fear, not desire. Calculation.
"Tell me," he said, "how does it feel, bearing the weight of so many eyes? So many expectations?"
"You tell me," I replied. "You carry the same burden. Though I suppose yours comes with extra… turbulence." A deliberate glance at his storm-marked robes.
A pause. Then amusement. "Careful, Vorian. The higher you rise, the thinner the air."
"I breathe fine."
Another chuckle as he turned away. "Dangerous, arrogant, and just soft enough to be intriguing. I might enjoy watching you fall."
"You'd have to reach me first."
When he left, River's silence was a question. Lior's smirk, a challenge.
"Defensive," Lior murmured.
"Strategic," I corrected. "Valen isn't the kind of enemy you see coming. He's the kind you drown in."
That night, I sat beneath the glow of the constellation map, the power inside me a coiled storm.
Soon, I would shake the heavens.
But tonight
I let the stars kiss my skin.
Let the world remember:
I was not just beautiful.
I was inevitable.