The Shadowed Reflection

Prompt: The Dark Mirror — Kaelith’s Parallel AU The woman struggled, her breath ragged against the silken gag. The ropes around her wrists weren’t the crude lashings of bandits; they were velvet cords, knotted with a precision that bespoke care — or obsession. She lay across the carriage seat, lanternlight from outside painting sharp lines across her face as the wheels rattled over cobblestones. Across from her sat a man. He looked nothing like a kidnapper. His posture was perfect, every movement precise, gloved fingers resting on his knee as though he were conducting a courtly audience rather than a crime. His black hair spilled loose, save for a pale streak that glinted like moonlight in shadow. And his eyes — one blue, one a faint, impossible gold-white — did not look away from her, even as the carriage pitched and swayed. “You’re frightened,” he said softly, voice cultured, even kind. “Good. Fear keeps the senses sharp. I would hate for you to dull before we arrive.” The woman’s muffled cry drew no sympathy. He leaned forward, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. Not cruel, not mocking — merely inevitable. “I know what they tell you about me. That I am the king’s mistake, the forbidden blood given crown and steel. That I deal in shadows, in whispers, in little tragedies like this.” His gloved hand gestured vaguely toward her bound form. “They are wrong. I am not a mistake.” He touched his chest, as if swearing an oath. “I am the answer.” Her tears shone in the flicker of the lantern. He did not look away. If anything, his expression softened, as though her terror was a hymn he alone understood. “Do not mistake me,” he murmured, voice dropping lower, dangerous. “I will not break you tonight. Outward cruelty is beneath me. You will eat, drink, rest. You will even be dressed in finery, if that is your comfort. But make no error, my dear—” His golden eye gleamed in the lantern light. “You were taken for a reason. And reasons, unlike chains, cannot be cut away.” The carriage slowed. Outside, torches flared against looming gates crowned with black iron. A palace. Not ruinous or forgotten, but alive with banners bearing his crest. In this world, he was not the forbidden exile, not the paradox struggling under Shulin Li’s cool discipline. Here, he was Prince Kaelith Veyraen, sovereign of shadows, ruler of whispers. And this was only the beginning.