The fire crackled softly in the great hall, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. The princess, seated on a velvet cushion beside her father, cradled a warm cup of tea in her hands. It was their nightly ritual—a quiet hour after dinner when the king would share a story, each one revealing another layer of the world’s mysteries.
“Tonight,” the king began, his voice as steady as the waves of the distant sea, “I shall tell you the tale of Aylin, the Star-Kissed.”
The princess tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “Star-Kissed?”
The king nodded, leaning back in his chair. “Aylin was a Pari of unmatched beauty. Her eyes shimmered like the first light of dawn, and her voice was as soothing as the lull of twilight. But what set her apart was her fascination with the stars. While other Paris reveled in the earthly pleasures of forests, rivers, and winds, Aylin spent her nights gazing at the heavens, mapping the constellations, and dreaming of their distant worlds.”
The princess leaned forward, already enchanted by the story.
“One night,” the king continued, “as Aylin wandered the peak of a lonely mountain to study the stars, she saw a light below—different from the stars, flickering and warm. Curious, she descended the mountain to find its source. There, in a clearing, sat a mortal man with a telescope by his side and a parchment in his lap, tracing the patterns of the stars as though he were recording their secrets.”
The princess smiled. “An astronomer?”
“Indeed,” the king said, his tone softening. “His name was Dara. He was a prince, but not in the way you might expect. He cared little for the trappings of a crown and court. His heart belonged to the night sky, and he spent his days and nights studying its infinite expanse. When Aylin approached, he mistook her for a vision—an ethereal muse sent by the stars themselves. But when she spoke, her voice soft and curious, he realized she was no dream. She was real.”
“And she fell in love with him?” the princess asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Not immediately,” the king replied, a faint smile on his lips. “Aylin was cautious, for she knew the cost of her kind’s love. But as the days turned to weeks and the weeks to months, she found herself drawn to Dara’s wonder for the universe. His passion for the stars mirrored her own, and his words—gentle, thoughtful, and filled with curiosity—touched a part of her soul she hadn’t known was empty.”
The princess’s gaze dropped to her hands, as though lost in thought.
“They would meet in secret, under the cover of night,” the king continued. “He would teach her the names humans had given the stars, and she would tell him of the stories her kind believed the stars held. Together, they bridged the gap between mortal and immortal, their love growing like a flame against the cold expanse of eternity.”
The fire popped, momentarily breaking the stillness of the hall.
“But Aylin could not deny the truth of her nature,” the king said, his voice heavy with sorrow. “The day came when she confessed to Dara what she truly was and what it would mean if they chose to be together. She told him of the curse, of the price she would pay to love him.”
“What did he say?” the princess asked, her voice trembling.
“He told her he loved her more than the stars themselves. That her presence on earth meant more to him than the mysteries of the heavens.” The king paused, letting the weight of those words settle. “And so, Aylin chose to stay. She gave up her immortality, becoming mortal so she could spend her days with Dara. They were married beneath the same stars they had studied together, and for a time, they were happy.”
The princess’s brow furrowed. “But she gave birth to a daughter, didn’t she?”
The king nodded solemnly. “Aylin’s daughter was born under the light of the brightest star in the night sky. As the first cry of the child rang out, Aylin felt her immortality leave her, transferring to her daughter as if it were the final gift she could offer. She held her child for only a moment before the light in her eyes dimmed, and she faded into the arms of eternity.”
The princess blinked back the sting of tears. “And Dara? What became of him?”
“He raised their daughter with love, teaching her to see the beauty in the stars, just as Aylin had taught him. But his heart was never whole again.” The king’s voice softened. “He would often climb the mountain where they first met and gaze at the sky, searching for a sign of her presence among the stars.”
The room fell silent, save for the crackling of the fire. The princess looked at her father, her heart heavy with the story’s bittersweet end. “Do you think love is worth such a price?” she asked after a long pause.
The king studied her, his expression unreadable. “That,” he said quietly, “is a question only you can answer.”
And with that, their nightly ritual ended, leaving the princess alone with her thoughts, her gaze drifting to the stars beyond the palace windows.