Cursed Mark: Rise of the Forgotten Prince

A Royal Invitation

The day after the Royal Examination, whispers of my unexpected triumph had spread like wildfire through the palace and academy.

The forgotten prince—the cursed failure—had shattered expectations.

And now, an invitation had arrived.

Not just any invitation.

A royal summons.

The golden seal of Crown Prince Adrian Ardent gleamed under the candlelight as I turned the letter in my hands. My fingers traced the intricate sigil of the royal family, my heartbeat steady despite the weight behind the message.

"An invitation to the Imperial Banquet," I murmured, reading the elegantly written words.

A social gathering for the elite. A place where alliances were formed, and enemies measured each other with veiled smiles.

A battlefield dressed in silk and gold.

And I was being invited.

Or rather… summoned.

I closed my eyes briefly. It was too soon. My display at the Examination had drawn attention, and Adrian, my so-called elder brother, was already moving to test me.

This was a challenge. A warning.

But I was no longer the Kael they had abandoned.

If they wanted to play this game, I would play it on my terms.

---

The Banquet of Serpents

The grand hall of the Imperial Palace was a masterpiece of opulence. Gilded chandeliers bathed the room in a warm, golden glow, illuminating noblemen and women adorned in their finest silks and jewels. Music drifted through the air, a soft melody played by enchanted instruments.

Everywhere I looked, eyes followed me. Some curious, some wary. Others—hostile.

Whispers filled the space as I walked through the grand doors.

"The cursed prince dares to show his face?"

"He thinks one lucky test score changes his fate?"

"Look at him. He doesn't belong here."

Their murmurs were nothing but background noise.

I had survived far worse than noble gossip.

I felt a shift in the air before I saw her.

A presence—calm, radiant, untouchable.

Eleanor Vael.

She stood at the heart of the banquet, her silver hair cascading over her back, emerald eyes glowing softly under the golden light. Clad in a flowing white gown, embroidered with celestial patterns, she looked every bit the divine heir of the temple.

And she was watching me.

The moment our eyes met, the air between us grew heavy.

For a fraction of a second, I saw something in her gaze.

Curiosity. Caution. And something deeper—an unspoken challenge.

I smirked inwardly.

So, even the favored daughter of the gods had taken notice.

But before I could move, a familiar voice called out.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let us welcome my dear brother—Kael Ardent!"

The hall fell into silence.

Crown Prince Adrian stood at the raised dais, a golden chalice in hand. His golden hair gleamed under the candlelight, his regal posture effortless. He smiled, but his amber eyes held no warmth.

I lifted my chin slightly, meeting his gaze without hesitation.

A silent war had begun.

---

A Dance with the Enemy

The night continued, filled with hollow pleasantries and veiled threats disguised as conversation.

I weaved through the crowd, carefully navigating the web of noble politics. Some sought to probe my newfound strength. Others attempted to degrade me.

I let none of it faze me.

Then, as I reached for a glass of wine from a servant's tray, a soft voice stopped me.

"Prince Kael."

I turned to find Eleanor standing beside me. Up close, the divine aura around her was almost suffocating.

She studied me for a long moment before speaking again.

"You surprised many at the Examination."

I tilted my head. "Including you?"

Her lips curled slightly. Not quite a smile.

"Perhaps." She stepped closer, her voice lowering. "But I wonder… was it truly your strength? Or something else?"

She was testing me.

She had seen the nature of my power—that it wasn't holy, nor elemental, nor anything the nobles understood.

But she didn't know what it was.

And I had no intention of telling her.

Instead, I leaned in slightly, my voice a whisper.

"Does it matter?"

A flicker of something passed through her eyes. Interest? Annoyance? I couldn't tell.

But before she could respond, a sharp voice interrupted.

"Eleanor, I did not expect you to be so engaged in conversation with someone like him."

Lucian Devereux.

The golden prodigy. The kingdom's future hero.

He approached with easy confidence, his piercing blue eyes cold as they landed on me.

Eleanor's expression remained unreadable. "I speak to whom I wish, Lucian."

His jaw tightened slightly, but he maintained his noble façade.

"I simply meant that a divine heir should be cautious of those who carry… darker influences." His gaze flickered to my hand—the Cursed Mark hidden beneath my glove.

The unspoken accusation was clear.

I smiled. "How kind of you to worry about her, Sir Lucian." I raised my glass slightly. "But I assure you, the lady is more than capable of judging who is worth her time."

Lucian's eyes darkened.

The tension between us was sharp, crackling beneath the surface like a brewing storm.

Eleanor sighed, stepping between us. "Enough. This is a banquet, not a battlefield."

For now.

Lucian gave me one last glance before turning away.

As he left, Eleanor studied me once more. Then, without another word, she followed him.

I let out a slow breath, amusement flickering in my chest.

It seemed I had caught the attention of more than one powerful figure.

But whether they were friend or foe… remained to be seen.

---

A Warning from the Throne

As the banquet neared its end, I found myself standing on one of the palace's high balconies, gazing over the city.

The night breeze was cool against my skin.

"You played your role well tonight."

I didn't turn.

Adrian leaned against the balcony beside me, his expression unreadable.

"Tell me, Kael," he murmured. "Do you think one display of strength changes your fate?"

I met his gaze, unflinching. "It changes everything."

A slow, amused smile spread across his lips.

"Then let me offer you some advice, little brother." His voice dipped lower, laced with warning.

"Do not forget your place."

The weight of his words settled between us.

I held his gaze, my expression unreadable.

Then, I stepped away from the balcony.

"My place, dear brother," I murmured, "is wherever I decide it to be."

And with that, I left.

But as I walked away, I knew—this was only the beginning.

The game had begun in earnest.

And I had no intention of losing.