Princess Of The Skulls - Chapter 63: Chapter 63

The truth about my parentage came not through dramatic revelation but through mundane record-keeping. Master Dorian discovered it while researching alternative magical traditions, cross-referencing bloodline abilities with historical accounts of the last Skull Kings who had ruled the dimensional borderlands three centuries ago.
"Your Majesty," he said, entering my private study with an expression of barely contained shock. "I need to show you something that will change everything we thought we knew about your heritage."
I looked up from the reports I'd been reviewing—accounts from border scouts describing increasingly aggressive probing by dimensional entities, now that the word had spread of our successful defense at
Raven's Cross.
"What kind of something?" I asked, noting the ancient tome in his hands and the way his fingers trembled slightly as he held it.
"Genealogical records from the Archives of the Lost Throne," he replied, setting the book on my desk and opening it to a page marked with several ribbons. "Specifically, the bloodline charts of the Skull Kings who ruled before the Great Severance."
I studied the page, noting the familiar names and the intricate family tree that traced magical inheritances through generations of rulers who had commanded the powers of life and death. At the bottom of the chart, barely legible with age, was an entry that made my blood run cold.
"'Morgaine Skulldancer, last Queen of the Bone Throne, exiled after the Severance Wars. Whereabouts unknown, presumed dead," I read aloud. "Why is this—"
My voice died as I saw the notation beside her name: Distinguishing marks - birthmark shaped like a crescent moon on left shoulder blade, heterochromia with left eye silver and right eye green.
The same marks my mother had carried.
"Seraphina," Dorian said gently, "your mother wasn't just a noblewoman with latent necromantic abilities.
She was the direct descendant of the Skull Kings, the rightful heir to powers that hadn't been seen in our world for three centuries."
"Which makes me ." I couldn't finish the sentence.
"The true Skull Queen," Dorian confirmed. "Not by marriage or conquest, but by blood right going back to the original masters of dimensional magic."
I sank into my chair, processing implications that rewrote everything I thought I knew about myself. "King
Magnus isn't my biological father."
"The timeline suggests not," Dorian agreed carefully. "Your mother came to court already pregnant, claiming the child was from a brief marriage to a lord who died in the border wars. King Magnus accepted both her and you, but..."
"But he knew what I was," I finished, pieces of a decades-old puzzle finally clicking into place. "That's why he insisted on my combat training. Why was he never affectionate but always protective? He was raising a weapon he couldn't fully control."
The skull relics, still contained in their warded box, began pulsing with agitated energy. Even through the magical barriers, I could feel their excitement at this revelation. They had known. They had always known what I was, and they had been guiding me toward embracing my true heritage.
"There's more," Dorian said reluctantly. "The records indicate that Skull King bloodlines carry certain obligations. Powers that come with prices."
"What kind of prices?"
"The ability to command the dead requires feeding them life force," he explained. "The greater the necromantic working, the greater the sacrifice required. The original Skull Kings sustained their power by ."
"By sacrificing their subjects," I said, understanding flooding through me with horrifying clarity. "That's why they were overthrown. That's why the bloodline was scattered and hunted."
"And why Lord Cassius Thornfield has been so determined to eliminate any trace of it," Dorian added.
"His family was among the knights who led the rebellion against the last Skull King. They've been hunting survivors for generations."
"But he married his son to me," I pointed out. "If he knew what I was—"
"He didn't know until recently," Dorian interrupted. "But Prince Aldric has been investigating your family history. I believe he discovered the truth and may have informed his father."
The implications hit me like physical blows. My betrothal wasn't just about uniting kingdoms—it was about placing me where I could be controlled or eliminated. The marriage treaty, the careful negotiations, the timing of everything, it was all a trap.
"How long until the wedding?" I asked, though I dreaded the answer.
"Three days," Dorian replied.
Three days until I would be surrounded by enemies, bound by sacred vows to a man whose father wanted me dead, cut off from most of my allies and resources. Unless I acted now, the wedding wouldn't be a celebration—it would be my execution.
But even as panic threatened to overwhelm me, another part of my mind was calculating possibilities. If I truly was the heir to the Skull Kings, then I had access to powers that no one in the current generation had ever faced. Powers that the ancient texts suggested could reshape the very foundations of reality.
"The dimensional barriers," I said suddenly. "The entities probing our reality. They're not random events, are they?"
"What do you mean?" Dorian asked.
"The timing," I explained, my thoughts racing ahead of my words. "The probes began shortly after my necromantic abilities manifested fully. What if they're not trying to invade our world? What if they're trying to prevent something from awakening in it?"
The skull relics pulsed more strongly, confirming my suspicions. The entities beyond the barriers weren't conquerors—they were jailers, trying to maintain a prison that was beginning to crack as my true heritage awakened.
"The original Skull Kings," I continued, pieces of ancient history reassembling themselves in my mind.
"They weren't just necromancers. They were dimensional rulers, commanding power over life, death, and the spaces between worlds. That's why they were so dangerous. That's why they had to be stopped."
"And if that power fully manifests in you?" Dorian asked quietly.
"Then everyone who has ever threatened me will learn why the Skull Kings were feared across multiple realms," I said, surprised by the cold certainty in my voice.
But even as I spoke the words, I felt a chill of recognition. This was how it began—with justified anger, with the conviction that power was the solution to every problem, with the belief that those who opposed you deserved whatever fate you chose to inflict.
The skull relics whispered seductively through their containment, offering knowledge, offering strength, offering revenge against everyone who had manipulated or betrayed me. All I had to do was embrace my birthright fully, let the ancient powers flow through me without reservation.
Instead, I stood up and walked to the window, looking out over the kingdom I'd been raised to protect. In the courtyard below, servants were preparing decorations for my wedding, their faces bright with anticipation of the celebration to come. They had no idea that their princess was the descendant of tyrants, that her marriage might trigger a war that would destroy everything they held dear.
"What will you do?" Dorian asked.
"I'm going to find Prince Aldric," I said, making my decision. "If he knows the truth about my heritage,
Then it's time we had an honest conversation about what that means for both our kingdoms."
"And if he's part of his father's plan to eliminate you?"
"Then I'll discover just how much of my ancestors' power I've inherited," I replied, feeling the skull relics pulse with approval even through their warded container.
Three days until my wedding. Three days to determine whether I would die as a manipulated princess or live as something far more dangerous. The blood of the Skull Kings ran in my veins, and it was time to learn exactly what that legacy entailed.