The Cursed Prince's Strange Bride



When Alicia left Mabel's apartment that night, an inscrutable feeling settled within her. Attending the event felt like a compelling summons, as if the answers she had been pursuing were intricately woven into this occasion. The pull of destiny was undeniable, though the reason behind it eluded her grasp.

As she ventured deeper into the enigmatic realm of her curiosity, a surge of questions tumbled through her mind. Observing the individuals surrounding Queen Tam, she contemplated who among them held the key to the mystifying history she longed to unearth.

Could it be King Eli, whose memory lingered despite his brief reign, changing the annual banquet date to commemorate his death rather than the full moon?

Or perhaps Lady Paulina and Sir Williams? No, not quite.

Did Lord Alvin, the silent overseer of palace affairs, who watched over the adventurous Queen Tam even in her reckless youth, hold the answers? Or Lord Harvey, the War Minister who was also Queen Tam's mentor and combat instructor?

Maybe it was Harvey's sister, who persistently sought closeness to Queen Tam, harbouring dreams of becoming her stepmother?

And what about Alexander, Sir William's son, whose impulsive declaration of affection for Queen Tam had turned a court meeting into a comedy since it was recorded he didn't exactly have the best senses and hadn't been aware others were in the room, which had led to his mother chasing him around with her shoe for always embarrassing himself and the queen?

Or could Lance, the audacious Minister who defied conventions by marrying a commoner, hold the key?

Prince Harold, who chose a life of seclusion and never assumed the title of King after his beloved's passing?

Could it be Lady Luciana, whose alleged infertility led her to leave the palace when her husband pursued another marriage?

Or her husband, who abandoned his royal duties to search for her, ultimately finding her. Her grave?

Was it the indomitable Queen Tam herself, known for her valiant spirit, who raced into battle with her white horse?

What was it that Alicia yearned to unearth within the folds of history? And why did she sense an unspoken connection to the enigmatic figure named Hunter?

Hunter's gaze remained unyielding, radiating intensity and profound anticipation. An aura of mystery surrounded him, and Alicia's curiosity was piqued. With a measured tone, he posed a question that sent ripples through the air, setting aside her previous inquiry about his identity.

"Have you ever contemplated the possibility that every individual in the world might share an underlying connection? A common thread weaving us all together?"

Taken aback by his unexpected question, Alicia furrowed her brows, her wary eyes still locked on his. "I... asked you a question."

He moved toward another framed work—a display of ancient writings. "Consider the Christian belief, for instance, that we all descend from Adam and Eve. Different cultures have their own beliefs, but they all converge on the idea of a common source."

"What are you suggesting?" she asked, her voice quiet and hesitant.

Hunter's smile held a knowing edge. "I suggest that we, too, share a common origin—a bond that surpasses our comprehension."

Perplexed, Alicia's expression twisted into one of bewilderment. "Are you implying that we might be somehow related?"

Hunter's gaze sparkled with an enigmatic charm. "Perhaps, in a way that transcends the conventional understanding of kinship. It's a complex concept, and even I don't possess all the answers."

As Alicia grappled with the complexity of his words, Hunter pressed on. "Much like diverse cultures possess their own narratives, we possess a unique history—a history that ties us to a shared origin that has sculpted our world."

Intrigued yet cautious, Alicia leaned in slightly. "And this shared origin you speak of... what exactly is it?"

Hunter's eyes held a deep reverence. "It's a history that stretches further back than we commonly acknowledge, a tapestry woven with veiled truths that go beyond written accounts."

As his gaze returned to the portrait that eerily resembled Alicia, her curiosity deepened.

 "Consider this portrait," he murmured, his voice like a delicate whisper. "When Lady Paulina created it, did she intend to capture your present self or perhaps the essence of a version of you that transcends time?"

Her perplexity deepened. "Why would she paint me? I'm 26. Not some immortal who has lived through time."

Hunter's words resonated with significance. "What if the 'you' she painted isn't confined to your chronological age? What if the essence of your existence threads through the fabric of time?"

"Are you proposing... the idea of reincarnation?" Alicia's skepticism was palpable, an echo of the supernatural question he had posed earlier.

Hunter's gaze bore into hers with unwavering intensity. "It's not merely a matter of reincarnation, Alicia Queen. Our shared history carries elements that defy the ordinary."

"Who was she?" Alicia inquired softly, her gaze returning to the portrait that stirred a strange feeling within her.

However, his answer greatly surprised her and left her stupefied.

"Queen Tam's grandmother," he revealed before leading her to an ancient inscription that bore the history of the strange bride of a prince. "The strange bride of the prince, believed to have come from the future after an attempted suicide; A woman for whom the prince was willing to relinquish everything, including his royal title. His beloved A.Q."

A.Q?

Alicia's brows furrowed, her mind grappling to make sense of it all. She moved closer to the inscription, absorbing the words that held a profound meaning.

"This... doesn't make any sense," she breathed, feeling her chest constricting and making it difficult to breathe. 

Engaging with the stories etched into the portraits, Hunter spoke softly. "Consider the events of the past year—the circumstances surrounding your year-long unconsciousness, the curious entries in the court records."

"I was unconscious for a year. What more could there be to it?!" She turned, snapping at him as her frustration surged.

Hunter's voice bore a weight of significance. "You knew where your body was, but what of your essence? Your soul?" 

The realization washed over her like a wave crashing against the shore. "My soul was... absent," she murmured, a torrent of memories flooding her mind.

Those vivid dreams.

The emotions that felt foreign yet undeniably real.

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