Crownless Hearts: A Preview

A Prince Bleeding into the Snow

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The first time Liora saw the prince, he was bleeding into the snow.

It was dusk in the forest clearing, the sky a dull bruise above the jagged treetops. She dropped her firewood and ran toward the figure slumped against a boulder—barely upright, his blood staining the frozen grass crimson.

She didn't recognize him at first. Just another wounded soldier, she thought. Until she saw the gold-stitched emblem on his torn cloak: a black raven over crossed swords.

Royal.

Liora's heart kicked against her ribs. Her fingers trembled as she touched his jaw—too cold. Blood soaked the side of his tunic where an arrow had lodged below his ribs.

"Hey," she whispered. "Don't die here."

His eyelids fluttered. "Who... are you?"

"Someone who doesn't want to bury a stranger before breakfast."

She tore at her satchel, hands flying. Clean cloth. Healing salve. Thread. Moonlight caught his face as she tilted his head—sharp cheekbones, a scar near his brow. His eyes, even glassy with pain, held that unmistakable steel-blue hue.

Her breath caught.

Prince Kael of Draventh.

The man who ruled from behind marble walls and iron decrees. The man whose army had burned half her village five years ago. Her father had tried to speak for peace. They put a sword through his back.

And here Kael was, broken in the dirt, looking at her like he'd never held a sword.

"Why help me?" he rasped.

She tied the bandage tight. "Because I'm not like you."

A Healer Who Has Lost Everything

Liora didn't know why she dragged him to her cottage. It was barely more than a shack, nestled into the hills like it was trying to disappear. Her goat bleated once, unimpressed. The fire inside was dim, but she stoked it until warmth returned—and with it, the prince.

She boiled herbs. She stitched his wound. She cleaned the blood from his chest with gentle, practiced hands. Years of tending to the hurt and forgotten in her village had made her skilled—and numb. But Kael was different. His breath hitched when she touched his side. His jaw clenched, but not in arrogance. In pain. In humility.

Two days passed. He slept mostly—fevered dreams, whispers of betrayal and black ships. Once he woke screaming, "They're coming!"

Liora pressed a cloth to his forehead. "You're safe. For now."

His gaze searched hers. "You should've left me. You don't know what I am."

"I know what you were," she replied softly. "Not what you'll become."

A Boy Turned into a Weapon

Kael stayed. The snow buried the world outside, and in the silence of that tiny cottage, something began to shift between them. He wasn't the cold ruler she'd hated from afar. He was a man who had lost everything—betrayed by his own, hunted by the Regime that had stolen his throne.

And then they discovered the truth: the Regime wasn't just building an army. They were breeding weapons. Children taken from their families. Memories erased. Souls rewritten.

One of them was Eli.

Kael's brother.

Once a boy who laughed and broke his ankle jumping off a ledge. Now, he was a weapon called Flameborn, his body wired with neural implants, his heart hollowed out and filled with someone else's commands.

Kael refused to abandon him.

"I'm Not a Virus. I'm the Antidote."

Inside the Regime's secret vault, Kael and Liora found Eli. Not evil—just altered. His eyes flickered with something ancient and trapped, like a candle fighting the wind. He hesitated when they faced him. Twice. And that hesitation was enough for Kael to believe that somewhere inside that engineered shell, his brother was still fighting.

The Regime's Chief Reconditioner, Dr. Halix Vren, had overseen Eli's neural surgeries. Had whispered commands into his ears. Had stood by while they rewrote his identity like a corrupted script.

"I knew you'd come back," Vren sneered. "They always do."

Eli's voice was hoarse. "I'm not a virus."

Vren raised an eyebrow.

"I'm the antidote."

Syra's Choice

Then there was Syra. The healer who had created the very systems that destroyed Eli. She had designed the override codes, believing control was mercy. She stayed close to the Regime's edge, hoping she could pull others back from the abyss.

But when she saw Eli—her own creation—standing over Kael's unconscious body, she saw the ghost of her own son. The Regime had taken him when she refused to continue her work. She only saw him once more—years later, in a file labeled Crownless Unit 6B.

That was the moment she chose to burn it all down.

With Kael's help, Syra hacked the Regime's neural architecture. She tore Eli out of the prison she had helped build. Code streamed across screens. Internal lights dimmed. The pulse began.

Eli screamed.

Kael didn't flinch. He held his brother's hand and refused to let go.

Sweat rolled down Syra's face as she overrode layer after layer of conditioning. Her hands moved like a pianist possessed—fast, precise, trembling beneath the weight of consequence.

"We're close," she whispered. "One more lock."

Then the alarms blared.

Regime drop-ships incoming.

The Fire That Could Not Be Silenced

They escaped. Barely. Eli woke up human again, his soul restored, his body scarred but free. Together, they built an alliance. Rebels and healers and defectors, united by a single truth: the Regime's lie had fractured.

And in its place, something ancient stirred again.

Hope.

The message spread like wildfire across the provinces. Civilians began dismantling cameras. Underground movements flared to life. Beacons were lit in towers long thought abandoned. Flags unfurled on rooftops. The spark had traveled.

And soon, it would become a storm.

A Love That Chooses Tenderness

This is not a story about a prince who saves a kingdom. It is about a prince who must first be saved from what his kingdom made him. It is about a healer who learns that some wounds are not meant to close—they are meant to be witnessed. It is about a boy who was turned into a weapon, and the people who refused to let him forget he was human.

It is about what happens when we dare to remove the crowns we never asked to wear—the expectations, the traumas, the roles we inherited but never wanted—and choose, instead, to be seen as we truly are.

Syra and Eli found each other in the ashes. Not as saviors. Not as soldiers. But as two broken people who decided to become whole together.

"Promise me," Syra whispered, "if we make it out..."

"I'll find a new name," Eli said.

"Why?"

"Because Eli was the name they gave me. But the man who loved you—he deserves his own name."

What Happens Next?

Kael's brother is free—but the Regime is not finished.

Syra's sister is alive—but she doesn't remember who she is.

The alliance is growing—but enemies are regrouping in the west.

What happens when the crownless prince returns to claim his throne? What happens when the weapon remembers how to love? What happens when the healer finally forgives herself?

The Complete Story Awaits You

This preview is only the beginning—a glimpse into a world of snow and scars, of fortresses and forgotten oaths. The full story of Crownless Hearts is a journey of redemption, sacrifice, and the quiet courage it takes to choose tenderness in a world that glorifies armor.

If you have ever felt unseen, unheard, or unworthy—if you have ever carried a weight that was not yours to bear—this story is a hand reaching for yours in the dark.

Complete the journey. Discover what happens to Kael, Liora, Eli, and Syra.

Get the full book now on Ko-fi:

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Crownless Hearts — A Winter of Ashes, a Kingdom of Embers.

Your crown is not made of gold. It is made of grace.