Hello HI! I'm back (kind of) ! A thousand apologies for leaving you all hanging like that lol but my arm has been in a sling for weeks and literally a few days ago I was finally somewhat out of the woods and able to use it again! But dw about me I'll be fine - just a terrible time to be injured sighhh. Anyways I wrote and rewrote this chapter for days and I'm still not happy with it i don't know why, but I'm going to publish it anyway bc like a thesis - I'm never gonna be happy with it lolol.

Anyways I know this is probably not the author's note ya'll were expecting but I'm so sleeeeeepy.

See you at the end hehe.

The last thing the former princess remembered was seeing High Commander Silver's cold gaze before she blacked out. She expected to wake up back in her prison guest room forced to face another day of the same torture.

But the sight in front of her wasn't the dull roof of the room she had woken for weeks in anymore. What was she doing here?

Stella gazed around the hazy dark environment, observing the gravel beneath her feet and the ominous grey clouds that hung above her head. She could see the droplets of rain pattering against the dirt in front of her but she couldn't feel it on her skin. In fact, she couldn't feel her body let alone feel the surroundings she was in.

She gazed up at the sky again, watching the rain thicken as the showers fell in buckets but it didn't touch her – like it was passing through her. More of the hazy scenery started to materialise before her and she was able to make out the tall white headstone that lay a few feet away from her.

The writing on it was unclear, almost like it was in gibberish with a few words she was able to make out. One thing in particular that stuck out to her was the carved-out name of the person who was laid rest beneath it.

Evelyn Silver.

As if her mind had begun to lift more of the fog, she could start to see the outlines of a small boy standing beside the headstone. Head tilted down as he stared intently at the grave despite the rain drenching his uniform and brunette hair, he didn't seem fazed.

He looked exactly like the man she hated, but younger, more vulnerable – broken.

Stella knew Brandon Silver had lost his mother at a young age. Evelyn Silver was Solaria's brilliant strategist and trusted advisor to King Radius of Solaria. A beautiful and strong woman Stella often found herself admiring when she would walk the great hall in her spare time. She had only heard tales of this brave and daring woman, a true fighter who was killed in the great war 17 years ago.

But she had never been to her private gravesite.

"Brandon," Andreas' icy tone broke the boy out of his trance, and Stella cast her gaze back at the tall, ominous figure standing behind her. His sharp eyes stared right through her at the brunette child grieving by his mother's grave, "Stop crying."

Stella felt her heart drop at his heartless words as the boy wiped his tears quickly as if terrified of his father's presence. "Sorry Sir," He murmured in a small voice, inhaling to calm the tears that kept filling his waterline.

"Crying is for the weak, boy," Andreas snapped harshly making the child stare at the ground quietly, "Weakness is what cost your mother her life,"

As if the words shocked him, he gazed up at his father, objection but fear still swirling in his soft brown eyes, "No, mother was protecting us – protecting Solaria,"

Andreas scoffed, almost ridiculing his son's words, "You think she was protecting us? Your mother was just a sacrifice for the peace King Radius preaches for," The boy didn't reply, as if quietly accepting his father's words.

He flinched at his father's brazen words, "But Mother said peace is important-" he murmured quietly.

"You think Solarians will ever sacrifice themselves for that peace?! It will be those like your mother that will die for it," He snapped back, approaching the child who stood drenched in the cold, mourning his mother.

Andreas stared icily at the boy, the boy he was supposed to comfort from the loss of his mother, but instead, all he offered were the cold words that made Stella's heart tighten, "Remember who killed your mother today, Brandon, she didn't die protecting the peace, she was killed for it – by Solaria,"

Stella's eyes flickered open as she let out a heavy breath as if she had been holding it in her sleep the entire time. Her body felt as if someone had taken it and thrown it out of a moving train as she squeezed her eyes shut before opening them and letting them adjust to the atmosphere around her.

She was back in her prison room. The same gold pattern on the roof, dimly lit by the magic lamp that sat glowing by her bedside table. She let out a soft groan, turning her body over under her covers.

It was starting to come back to her, Brandon's cold expression as she begged the sceptre to take over and fight. The blinding pain in her side and the blood splattered across the floor. She remembered everything going black just moments after but she was unsure if that was because she transformed or because she passed out. The way the ache remained on her side told her that her transformation was not successful.

Great.

Stella continued to stare at the ceiling, recounting the unusual dream she had just been abruptly woken up from. She remembered seeing Brandon at an age before she met him, vivid memories of his mother's gravesite, and the chilling emotions on Andreas's younger face.

She was used to the usual nightmares she had where her mind would replay some of her most vulnerable and traumatic moments that she would wake up screaming and crying from. But this was different.

This wasn't something she'd ever seen. These weren't her memories.

Turning over, her eyes took in her immediate surroundings, past the lamp, the fireplace on the opposite wall of her bed was lit, crackling and emitting a soft warmth. Its flames sat swaying to the gentle breeze that rustled through the sheer white curtains by the open balcony doors.

Open balcony doors?

She sat up abruptly, hissing in pain at the sudden sting of pain her side caused. Her balcony was locked, at least as far as she tried violently shaking the handles.

Oh, how much she longed for fresh air.

Pulling the covers off her body, Stella slipped out of bed, letting her bare feet touch the runner in the bedroom as she slowly staggered to the balcony doors. Her outfit from this morning had been changed into one of the nightgowns she had in her closet, but she didn't even care who had done it, she just needed to breathe.

The moment her feet made contact with the cold marble balcony floor, she felt a shiver run up her spine. The breeze was gentle on her warm skin as it weaved through her loose golden locks and the bright light of the moon blanketed her face.

Reaching out to the balcony railing, the former princess leaned her weight against it, tucking her hair back and inhaling in the sweet, cold air. It felt like days since she was last able to step outside and feel the natural elements against her skin. It felt blissful, even if it was short-lived the moment her sharp senses realised the presence that had entered her bedroom.

"You're awake," High Commander Silver's baritone voice echoed in the room behind her as Stella turned to meet his cold gaze, "How do you feel?"

She scoffed, unfazed that he could make such empathetic words feel so empty, "Like you care,"

"No, I don't," He replied in a clipped tone, moving deeper into the room. Once he was by the fireplace, she could see the small vial in his grip, "But I was given strict orders to keep you alive,"

She studied his face in the dimly lit room, the chiselled, rugged look he had in comparison to the vulnerable expression of the young child she had seen in her dream. For the first time, she was able to place that foreign look in his gaze that he always had when he looked at her, even when they were kids. High Commander Silver's eyes held nothing but cold empty hate when he gazed at her, but for the first time, she knew why.

"What's that?" She asked, trying to stop the thoughts from overwhelming her mind.

"It's a replenishing potion. The sceptre didn't heal your internal wounds so the potion should heal you enough to test the sceptre again tomorrow without killing you," He replied simply, placing the vial on the bedside table before his eyes caught her gaze again.

She could see it clearly now. So clearly, it made her stomach pit.

It was the same hate Andreas had in his eyes in that dream.

That look had always been in Brandon's gaze, she had just chosen to ignore it.

She felt shameful at the idea of how desperately in love she used to be with a man who hated her guts. She was so blind to it, so blind to the obvious distaste he had when he spoke to her, how little he cared for her when they were kids.

Whether it was true or not, Brandon believed the same notion his father did, Solaria had killed his mother for the sake of peace. As far as Stella, Royal Princess of Solaria was concerned, she was just a part of the bloodline that had a hand in his mother's death.

They were enemies from the start.

His blunt voice cut into her thoughts, "You've been out for 2 days," He continued, the fireplace casting a shadow over his hooded eyes, "So drink the vial, it will help your magic heal you,"

2 days.

It's been 2 days since her birthday.

"I'm fine, I don't need it," She retorted trying to act unfazed as she leaned against the railing to cover the fact that her side still throbbed when she moved too hastily.

"Princess, I can see you wince every time you move, stop being stubborn and drink the damn vial," he sighed somewhat exasperatedly as he turned towards the fireplace.

Despite his brazen demeanour, Stella could almost see the remnants of his past swirling in the High Commander's almost black eyes, it made her think back to the dream she had. No, it was more like a memory, but that was not a memory she had experienced herself.

It was his memory.

"I said I was fine," she replied defiantly, challenging his authority to make a point of just how much she loathed him now.

He glared at her, jaw slightly clenched, making the dim lighting carve out his tense cheek, "It wasn't a request,"

"I don't take orders from you, high commander," Stella snapped back, "You aren't my captain,"

Brandon scoffed, "Just because you played pretend for a few years with your little rebellion, you think you have the authority to defy me?" He asked, his amusement sharp and cruel. "Do not make me force you, princess,"

She continued to glare at him, feeling her side start to nag her to obey him. But she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction, "You said it yourself that if it were up to you – you'd have me killed, so what is it to you if I succumb to my injuries?"

His jaw clenched tighter, "Do you intend to keep testing my patience, princess?" Brandon Silver was predominantly a man of offence, striking first – but avoidance was clearly his only defence.

"Yes, as long as you keep me here, trapped against my will – I will!" She was bold, her eyes were gleaming with the flames of the fireplace, igniting her defiance and fuelling that courage that seemed to make her hazel eyes glow.

The woman In front of him was not the dainty little Solarian princess he remembered from 4 years ago. Had she always had that fire in her eyes?

High Commander Silver scoffed, "You don't have a choice here, princess, you are my prisoner. You do as I say, now drink the vial, or I will force it down your throat,"

"Go fuck yourself,"

That one seemed to push his buttons a bit too hard. One moment, he was standing at the fireplace, glaring eyes like a demon narrowed in on its prey, the next he was standing right in front of her with the corkless vial in his hand. Before she could knock it out of his grip, his other hand grabbed her jaw, digging his fingers deep into her cheeks to force her lips open.

The watery liquid was already in her mouth but Stella refused to swallow it as she rammed her elbow against his abdomen and forced herself free from the moment he took to recover.

Grabbing the balcony railing with both hands, Stella threw her upper body over it, ready to choke out every ounce of the potion over the terrace. But Brandon recovered a millisecond faster than she would've hoped and wrapped his hand around her waist, reeling her body back to his. His other hand clamped shut over her lips and nose, cutting off her air supply as he forced her still against him.

"Swallow it," He growled in her ear as she struggled breathlessly in his constrictor grip. He wasn't going to let go until the liquid was down her throat and she was going to pass out soon if she didn't. "Swallow the fucking potion, princess,"

She shook her head, her defiance still burning strong despite her eyes fluttering at the lack of oxygen. The pain from her side was starting to become unbearable and her body was going into a panic.

She was not making holding her down any easier as she writhed desperately to break free. Her life was in obvious danger, but the curse mark still remained its usual black colour.

She could either transform right now or swallow the liquid and Stella was wholeheartedly betting the sceptre would finally try and intervene, but that bet was running out of time with no sign of winning.

"Come on," Brandon breathed, the usual brass tone starting to slip from his voice as her struggling got weaker, "Fucking swallow it!"

The sceptre wasn't responding despite her begging for it to activate and break her out of his grip but to no avail, nothing happened.

She would either have to obey him or die with him.

Stella could feel her consciousness start to slip as her body started to go limp in his grip. If she didn't swallow she would surely die. She needed to swallow it, for her own good. "Swallow it dammit!" He snapped, and as if forcing her into a fight or flight, her body made the decision for her despite her mentally protesting against it.

The liquid went down her throat, and the moment she swallowed, Brandon bounded off her within a split second, letting go of her as the air rushed in desperately into her lungs. Stella fell to the floor, gasping for breath as the dizziness overwhelmed her.

"Fuck!" She could hear him curse violently behind her before the sound of his fist rammed right into the stone wall the balcony was set against. The impact made some of the broken remnants fall to the ground as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

She could feel the liquid starting to spread through her veins, burning through the pain in her side as it began to heal her internal wounds. The replenishing potion was taking effect, but it wasn't just relief that coursed through her—it was fury. She glared up at Brandon, who stood over her, his chest heaving, eyes dark and wild like a storm barely held at bay.

For a moment, she thought she saw an emotion in his eyes she had never seen before but she was too far into her anger to pump the breaks.

"I hate you!" she choked out, her voice raw with anger. "You're exactly like the monster your father raised you to be!"

His head snapped towards her, and for a fleeting moment, she saw a crack in his cold mask. His eyes widened, then narrowed, flickering with something she couldn't quite place. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the familiar steeliness.

Any hope she had of appealing to the boy she had seen in the dream vanished the moment she spoke. "He raised you to hate Solarians and that's what you do! Did you for a second try to question that or did you blindly follow his every word?!" she tried, feeling a desperate need to reach beyond the wall he had built.

His response was immediate, harsh. "Do you really think your half-baked assumptions mean anything to me, princess?" He stepped toward her, each movement precise and controlled, his eyes never wavering from hers as he mocked her title.

Stella flinched inwardly at his words, but she held her ground. "You're afraid—"

"Enough," he interrupted, his voice dangerously calm. He loomed over her, his gaze piercing through the flickering shadows cast by the fire. "You misunderstand me if you think I won't let you die the next time you pull this shit,"

Stella's heart thudded in her chest, but she didn't back down. "Then kill me dammit! Stop playing this game of cat and mouse, telling me you don't give a shit whether I die, then forcing a healing potion down my throat, as if you care!"

Brandon's lips curled into a slight, mocking smirk. "I don't care," he replied coldly. "You are nothing to me, princess. Nothing but a tool, a means to an end. The sooner you understand that the easier this will be for both of us."

His words struck her like a blow, and she could her heart batter her rib cage. But he wasn't done. He grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look at him, "Your pain, your suffering—it doesn't concern me. My job is to keep you alive until you're of no use to the high lord. And if that means I have to force you to stay alive till the solstice, then so be it,"

Brandon stood up, his face a mask of indifference. He watched her with an almost clinical detachment, his earlier outburst seemingly erased. "So next time, spare us both the theatrics and do as I say," he said calmly and coldly, before turning his back on her.

He strode toward the door, leaving her crumpled on the floor, heaving for breath. Before he exited, he cast one last glance over his shoulder, his eyes like shards of glass reflecting nothing but empty darkness. "Rest, princess. You'll need your strength."

And with that, he slammed the door shut behind him and the room plunging into silence. Stella remained where she was, shivering in the aftermath of his ruthless words despite the warmth of the fireplace lighting the room.

Maybe the memory she saw was a lie. Maybe he never had a shred of compassion to begin with.

No, seriously I don't like this chapter I feel like I could write it better BUT yay we're getting somewhere now! Sorry It's so short I'll try and write a longer one next update!

I'll be back to regular Tuesday updates starting from next week but do bear with me if I suddenly go dead I'm in mid-semester break and the real shit show is about to start soon.

See you next week teehee.

Lots of love,

Star