The city burned.
The night sky, once adorned with silver stars, had vanished beneath thick, rolling smoke. Flames leapt from rooftops, turning homes into blackened skeletons. The streets, once filled with laughter and life, now ran red with the blood of the innocent. The cries of the dying pierced the air, swallowed by the merciless roar of fire.
And at the heart of it all, kneeling on the scorched earth, was Ruby.
Her wrists ached where the soldiers had bound them. The scent of burning flesh mixed with the metallic tang of her own blood. Her once-ivory gown, the same gown she had worn when she had stood beside King Arthro, fighting for his right to the throne, was now tattered, smeared with soot and despair.
She could hardly breathe. The smoke suffocated her, but it was nothing compared to the agony ripping through her heart.
The people she had spent her life protecting—her closest friends, her loyal servants, the very ones who had raised her—were being slaughtered before her very eyes. Men were cut down where they stood. Women shrieked as soldiers dragged them away. Children, too young to understand, cried out for mothers who would never answer.
And it was all because of him.
Her husband. Her king.
The man she had loved since childhood, the man she had trusted with everything—Arthro.
And beside him, draped in the finest silks, adorned in jewelry stolen from the corpses of the fallen, stood Shithal.
Ruby's own stepsister.
Her lips curled into a smirk as she traced lazy fingers along Arthro's arm, whispering sweet poisons into his ear. Poison that had already blackened his heart.
"Burn them all," Shithal had purred earlier. "Erase everything that ties her to this world. Only then will she truly be gone."
And like a mindless puppet, Arthro had obeyed.
Ruby's body trembled. Not from the fire, nor the cold, but from the sheer, unbearable weight of betrayal.
She and Arthro had grown up together, side by side, bound by fate and circumstance. Ruby had been Arthro's most trusted ally and confidante. She had believed in him fiercely, loving him not just as a king-in-waiting, but as the man who had once been nothing more than a boy struggling against the weight of his bloodline. Arthro had been born a bastard, the son of a slave woman, and his very existence had been a stain on his royal family's legacy. His brother, the firstborn prince, had been the rightful heir to the throne, or so the kingdom had believed.
But Ruby had seen something in Arthro that no one else had—the fire of ambition, the strength of spirit, and a deep desire to prove that he was worth more than the label of bastard. She had believed in him from the beginning, before anyone else had. She saw the man he could become, a man worthy of ruling, a man worthy of her love.
When the war broke out between Arthro and his brothers, Ruby had been by his side. She had sharpened his sword, strategized their every move, and fought tirelessly to secure his claim to the throne. Ruby had not only been his lover but his war genius—her brilliance on the battlefield was unmatched. With every victory, with every triumph, Arthro grew stronger, and so did Ruby's faith in him. She believed in his dream to become king and had poured her heart and soul into helping him claim it. She had led the charge, organized their armies, and devised the strategies that would ultimately bring Arthro to the throne.
Arthro had promised her, as they stood victorious together, that once he was king, he would make her his queen. The words had filled her with a burning hope, a hope that one day they would rule together, side by side. She had fought for that promise, given everything to see it fulfilled. For Ruby, the throne was not just a symbol of power—it was a representation of all the sacrifices she had made for him.
But no one could have predicted the devastation that would follow.
As they had fought side by side, Ruby had never once suspected that Arthro's heart had been swayed by someone else, someone who had always been a shadow in her life. Shithal, her bastard-born stepsister, had always been a thorn in Ruby's side. Shithal had been cruel, vindictive, and manipulative, ever since they were children. She had never loved Ruby, and Ruby had always viewed her with disdain. Shithal had been a constant reminder of everything Ruby had lost—her father's love, the warmth of family, the sense of belonging.
What Ruby didn't know was that Shithal had been working behind the scenes, poisoning Arthro's mind with lies and deceit. She had slithered her way into his confidence, wrapped herself around him like a serpent, and whispered false promises of loyalty and love. It was Shithal's venomous words that had twisted Arthro's heart and set the stage for the ultimate betrayal.
The very woman who had been by his side, the woman who had believed in him, had fought for him, had bled for him—was the one who was cast aside. Ruby had been so blinded by her love for him that she had never once suspected that the man she had trusted most would turn on her. And it wasn't just Arthro who betrayed her; it was her stepsister, the one who had never stopped making Ruby's life a living hell, who had stood by Arthro's side, ready to destroy everything Ruby had built.
The betrayal cut deeper than any blade ever could.
It was not just a betrayal of love—it was a betrayal of everything Ruby had sacrificed, everything she had believed in.
Ruby was nothing more than a shadow in his eyes, a relic of the past he no longer cared for.
She had spent every waking moment thinking that, one day, Arthro would see her as something more than a means to his success. But in truth, she had been a stepping stone, nothing more.
Ruby had seen it all—the way he had looked at her with affection, then dismissed her with cold detachment. The whispered promises that had been forgotten. The way he had allowed Shithal to poison his mind, to turn him against the woman who had loved him unconditionally.
But she had still believed. Until now.
The soldiers forced her to her knees. The dirt beneath her was warm—soaked in the blood of those she had sworn to protect. Her fingers dug into the earth, weak and trembling, but she refused to fall completely.
Arthro stepped forward.
His golden crown gleamed in the firelight, but his eyes—once filled with warmth whenever they met hers—were empty.
"Arthro," she choked out. "Please."
For the first time, she was begging. Not for herself, but for the tiny life still growing inside her.
She pressed a shaking hand to her belly, her voice cracking. "Our child. If you ever loved me, if there is even a sliver of the boy I once knew inside you—spare the child."
For a moment, he hesitated.
A flicker of something crossed his face. Doubt? Remorse?
But then Shithal laughed—a cruel, mocking sound that slithered through the night like a serpent.
"My love," she purred, brushing her fingers against his chin. "Do you truly believe it's yours?"
Ruby's breath hitched.
Shithal's words dripped with venom, planting a seed of doubt in Arthro's mind. It was ridiculous, a blatant lie, but he had already chosen who to believe.
His expression hardened.
Cold steel flashed.
The blade sank into her abdomen, piercing through flesh and bone, through her unborn child, through the last remnants of her hope. And it was in that moment, as Arthro's blade pierced her womb, that Ruby finally understood the depth of her mistake. She had given everything to him, and in return, he had given her nothing but death.
Her world shattered.
Pain, sharp and searing, flooded her senses. Blood spilled onto her trembling hands, staining the earth beneath her.
She gasped, her body convulsing, but she did not scream.
No.
She refused to give them the satisfaction.
She collapsed, her vision blurring, but she would not die silently.
Through the fire, through the agony, through the suffocating grief, something ancient stirred within her.
Rage.
A darkness she had never known before rose from the depths of her soul, curling around her like smoke, whispering in a language older than time itself.
Her body trembled, her fingers curling into fists.
She lifted her head, her gaze locking onto Arthro and Shithal.
"Even if the heavens refuse to hear me," she whispered, her voice hoarse yet powerful, "then let hell take my soul instead."
The wind howled.
The flames roared higher.
The air itself seemed to tremble as if the very universe had stopped to listen.
"Arthro," she rasped, her lips curling into a bloodstained smile. "Shithal. You will not die as kings and queens. You will not die peacefully in your sleep."
She dragged herself forward, leaving a trail of blood behind her.
"You will die screaming."
Her voice grew louder, stronger, reverberating through the night.
"You will beg for death. And when it comes, it will be slower, crueler than anything you have ever imagined."
The ground beneath her cracked.
The fire around them pulsed, twisting unnaturally, as if answering her call.
Her blood seeped into the earth, but it did not sink.
It glowed.
As if something—someone—had heard her.
And they had accepted her curse.
Arthro's expression twisted into something unreadable. Fear? No. He did not believe her. Not yet.
But he would.
Soon.
Very, very soon.
Ruby's lips parted, her final words a whisper against the wind.
"I will return."
Darkness took her.
And the world went still.
The Curse That Never Dies
Ruby's soul burned with a fury that transcended death itself. Her final breath was not one of surrender, but of defiance. She could feel her body disintegrating into the flames, the fiery inferno that had been her safe place now consuming everything she had once loved. Yet within her, a seed was planted—an ancient curse, a promise that would not fade with her demise.
And though her body lay lifeless, her spirit lingered.
The world around her had fallen silent, but the flames whispered her name. Ruby had left behind a curse so powerful, so bitter, that even death could not silence it.
Her words echoed in the hearts of those who had betrayed her, a constant reminder that vengeance was no longer just a matter of fate. It had become a force in its own right.
"I will return," Ruby had said. "And I will bring death with me."
And so, beneath the smoldering ruins, beneath the very soil that had once cradled her, the world awaited the return of Ruby. It would come. In time, when Arthro and Shithal believed they had won, when they thought they were safe in their stolen kingdom, that was when the true reckoning would begin.
Because no one—no matter how powerful—could escape the curse of a woman scorned.