The man that rallied everyone's attention was William Wilshire, Felicia's cousin- and the reason he had garnered so much attention was that the King and Queen had decided that he would be the pretend-Prince at the ball. 

Amara's blood boiled as she took in the stranger. His dark hair and tall figure was the reason they'd chosen him. He, in no way, looked like Prince Damien. 

According to her, they should've put all their resources into finding the Crown Prince but no one seemed to want to do that. 

'It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Amara,' He smiled at her. 

He doesn't look like Damien at all. 

There were people out there at work, trying to find Prince Damien but when she sat down to do anything, she felt like she was letting him down. 

'Likewise,' she spoke, curtly, keeping her face from morphing into a scowl. 

He was about seven years older than Damien and had a very crooked nose. His jaws were slightly rounded unlike the Prince's which were taut and sharp. William's eyes matched Felicia's- a shade of dark brown. He was mildly tanned, another feature that differentiated him from her Prince. 

She didn't want to hate William but he gave her no choice. He could've said no to the Royal couple- the Gods knew she wanted to. 

What shocked her the most was that it was Rowan's idea, his justification being that it that announcing such a piece of news would hurt people's trust in the monarchy. Also, the event was something their subjects looked forward to every year. He suggested that if necessary the war must be declared after it. 

She was furious with everyone present in the throne room.

If she were missing, Damien would do anything to find her; she felt like she should do the same. 

Sadly, she had no power in the castle because she and the prince were bound only by courtship and not by 'proper' engagement. The only thing she needed to provide as evidence was a ring given to her by Damien. Unfortunately, for her, she couldn't. 

Bloody politics! 

The ministers were apprehensive when she was allowed to be a part of their plans- it was clear as day that they didn't want her there. 

Phoebe hadn't felt anything when Amara had dragged her to Damien's study. The Shalore had told her that she felt no magic, not even a hint of it. 

Amara wanted to find the secrets that hid in the castle. Her gaze was fixed on the Royal couple who were deeply engrossed in the intricacies of the celebrations the following day. What could they have stolen? She refused to believe that the couple did not know what they had taken from the Demon King. 

What could possibly be more important than Damien's life?

In her mind, her hands here pressed against her forehead as she thought hard. 

One thing was for sure, she had to know more and the fastest way to do that was to summon her mother- who had sensed the arrival of a strange magic way before she had- that would mean no magic for at least a day. Phoebe needed a week but Amara did not have that kind of time. Besides, her mother had told her that she was the strongest Octavian- that had to mean something.

Amara wanted to bury her head in her hands and scream. There were so many questions and no answers. 

She did not want to lose Damien. 

What the hell does the Demon King want?

The beginning was somewhere there in the castle- it was something that stayed undisputed in her mind. 

After an hour the discussions ended and they dispersed. 

As if in a trance, Amara's feet carried her through the halls. All that time, her mind was bombarded with questions that fueled her sorrow and fury. 

She found herself in front of a grand door. 

She'd been there before, that last time, she'd come there with Damien- before that alone because the Queen had summoned her but that wasn't important. 

She'd been stupid to admire the library when she had him. It was heartbreaking. 

With deliberately short and slow steps, she entered the Royals' personal library. 

For a moment, she saw Damien standing at the entrance, grinning widely. 

It is beautiful, isn't it?

His voice echoed in her head. Tears welled in her eyes as his apparition entered the library.

Come with me. 

He would then show her the painting of his brother. She knew what was going to happen but she couldn't help but feel the thrill she had first felt. 

And then he disappeared. 

Vanished.

Gone. 

She walked through the shelves and ran her fingers on the spines of the books, the same way that he had. 

It led her to the painting. As she looked at the familiar blue eyes, she felt a sharp pain in her chest. 

Everything was so... depressing. 

She cupped her hands over mouth to cover the loud sob. 

They would've adored you, Amara, as I do.

No, they wouldn't, she glanced at the painting. Their eyes thrust daggers into her soul, accusing her of not being there for the Crown Prince. 

I let you down, Damien. 

A soft thud drew her attention. Her head snapped in the direction. Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, she put on a hard front. No one could know she was bawling her eyes out. 

'Hello?' She called out, moving past the shelves to get a glimpse of the hallway. There was no one around her. The hair at the back of her neck stood as she surveyed her surroundings. 

She could feel another presence there. It was unfounded, she told herself because all she received as a reply was silence. 

On the polished wooden floor, lay a black leather book. Furrowing her brows, she crouched down to reach for it. It was a Dithrayan. She found it was King Samuel's when she saw the spine.

Her mind was already buckling under the stress and she hated it. All the tension that had coiled up in her stomach was playing tricks on her mind.  

She placed the book back on the shelf with unnecessary force, embarrassed with her over-reaction. 

The letters in gold written on the spines of the many books stacked there caught her attention. She read their names. It ended with King Samuel's Dithrayan. It was strange that the late Prince Damon's wasn't there. She knew it existed because had read a part of it- before Prince Damien found out and rudely snatched it from her.

Considering how close Damien was with his brother, he would've have kept it close to him. 

That makes sense, she told herself. 

Drawing a deep breath, her gaze landed on the portrait again and her mind moved ahead in time. 

If she were a Royal, how would she know what's precious to the Demon King? Who would she involve? What could motivate her to steal? When could she steal? 

The answers remained a web of mysteries but she knew for a fact that if she figured out the when she could easily figure out the why and the how.

Her mind was drawn to the events that had taken place in the past few months. 

Tracovia had been captured by the demons during which she and Rowan had been attacked, an excruciating period after which she began to grow closer to Prince Damien, so close that even his beast started to adore her. 

Thinking of his beast, she wondered if the curse had something to do with all of this. 

What if everything had its roots way back in time?

She remembered Rowan's words: Damien knows but he would never tell.

What if it was the reason Prince Damon and his wife were murdered? What if it was the reason her clan was killed?

Damien knows but he would never tell.

That couldn't be because Damien was a child when that happened. 

But what if his thirst for revenge had triggered it again?

Damien knows but he would never tell.

Frustrated with the pile of questions that only seemed to grow, her hands fisted her hair. 

Why would Damien never speak of why he was cursed?

Damien knows but he would never tell.

'How much did you know, Damien?' She whispered as her heart cracked under the weight of the secrets her beloved kept from her.