The Curse Of The Royal Blood. Books for children, #33

Under the frozen skies of the North, a storm was preparing to swallow the snow-covered lands. In King Sigvard's ice palace, shadows danced on the stone walls, and echoes of the past intertwined with the sharp wind. In the center of the imposing throne, a man with an iron gaze looked out over his kingdom. The King of the North, unyielding and merciless, clenched his fists as a messenger knelt before him, trembling.-Tell me what you have learned, Sigvard murmured, his voice hoarse, like an echo of the storm that raged outside.-It...it's true, Great King.
Princess Layla...she is your daughter, the messenger said, his voice torn with fear. The words rolled like lightning through the hall. The soldiers held their breath, waiting to see if the king would pour out his anger on the messenger or the entire world. But Sigvard said nothing. He just smiled. A sharp, dangerous smile. Far away, in the Golden Kingdom, Layla struggled between truth and lies. She had spent her entire life believing that she was Jalal's daughter, that the blood of an emperor flowed through her veins.
Now, however, she was discovering that everything she knew was an illusion. Her mother, the one who had been her guiding light, had hidden the greatest secret of all. And now, she was dead, killed by her own fate. Tears burned her eyes, but she wouldn't let them. She didn't now. Not when war was knocking at the gates of the kingdoms.-Tariq, she said in a low voice, looking at the man who had become her shield and sword.-I must face Sigvard.
I must show him that he will not be able to claim what never belonged to him. Tariq touched her hand lightly, offering her the support she needed. In his eyes, Layla saw the determination and the silent promise that she would not be alone in this fight.