PART 2 — The Mark That Couldn’t Be Hidden
PART 2 — The Mark That Couldn’t Be Hidden
The ballroom didn’t breathe.
Not a single laugh remained. Not a single glass clinked. Even the musicians had frozen mid-note, bows hovering above strings like they’d forgotten what music was.
Celeste stepped back again.
“No,” she said sharply, too fast, too loud. “This is absurd. That mark could belong to anyone. There are stories—old myths—”
The king didn’t look at her.
He couldn’t.
His entire world had narrowed to the girl standing soaked and shaking in the center of the marble floor.
Mara’s hands trembled as she touched the glowing phoenix on her collarbone. The warmth of it didn’t match the cold dripping from her dress.
“What… is happening?” she whispered.
The king’s voice cracked when he answered.
“That mark appears only on the bloodline of the true heir.”
A murmur rippled through the guests.
Celeste’s face tightened. “She’s a servant.”
But no one looked at her anymore.
The king took another step forward, slower this time, like approaching something sacred and impossible.
“Seventeen years ago,” he said, voice breaking with every word, “my daughter was taken during the palace fire. They told me she died.”
His hand hovered near Mara’s face, trembling violently.
“But they never found her body.”
Mara shook her head, panic rising.
“I don’t understand… I grew up in the east province. My mother—she—she worked in kitchens. She told me I was no one special.”
The king’s eyes filled.
“And did she ever let you see her face clearly?”
A silence.
A dangerous silence.
Mara hesitated.
Then, slowly, she nodded.
“…She always kept my hair covering my temple.”
The king’s breath stopped completely.
Behind them, Celeste’s fingers clenched into her dress.
May you like
Because she knew what came next.
And she knew she could not stop it anymore.
