Amara woke up feeling the warmth of Asier’s arm wrapped around her. A smile spread across her face as she opened her eyes and saw him so close, his hair tousled and his eyes half-closed with sleep. Asier held her tighter, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

  “Don’t get up yet,” he murmured in a husky voice. “Stay with me a little longer.”

  Amara let out a soft laugh, running her fingers through his hair.

  “We need to get ready, Asier. Today is the meeting with the merchants.”

  “Always so responsible,” he muttered, letting out a dramatic sigh before finally sitting up. “Fine. But I’m not promising to be in a good mood.”

  Amara laughed again, slipping out of bed and starting to get dressed. Their morning routine passed quickly, filled with jokes and stolen glances that spoke of their closeness. Once ready, they walked together to the meeting hall, where Dorian—a merchant known for his negotiating skills—and his team were waiting. The tension in the room was palpable from the very beginning. The agreements to be discussed would determine the flow of essential resources for Nivara, and there was no room for error.

  The meeting began with Dorian spreading a map across the table, pointing out the trade routes most affected by the recent conflicts. Asier crossed his arms and listened carefully, asking direct, concise questions that demonstrated his command of the situation. Amara, seated beside him, absorbed every detail, making mental notes. Though she did not actively participate at first, her attentive gaze did not go unnoticed by Dorian.

  “My lord,” Dorian said at one point, addressing Asier, “if we manage to secure these routes, the flow of food and materials will stabilize. However, we would need greater military support to protect the convoys.”

  “That would mean diverting troops from other regions,” Asier replied, frowning. “We can’t afford to weaken our borders.”

  “Perhaps we could rely on temporary alliances,” Amara interjected, surprising everyone in the room. Her voice was calm but firm. “If we negotiate with nearby settlements, we could share security resources.”

  Dorian nodded slowly, considering her words.

  “It’s an interesting possibility. I could prepare a list of potential allies and their conditions.”

  Asier looked at Amara with a mix of pride and admiration before nodding.

  “Do it. We’ll evaluate the options over the next few days.”

  The meeting continued for hours, filled with proposals, disagreements, and revisions to the plans. When it finally ended, Amara felt exhausted but satisfied. She knew she had contributed, even if only modestly.

  As they left the hall, the cool afternoon breeze greeted them, and Asier stretched with a relieved sigh.

  “You know what? We have a bit of free time now. How about we spend it together?” he suggested, giving her a mischievous smile.

  Amara raised an eyebrow, knowing that expression all too well.

  “And what exactly do you have in mind, Asier?”

  “We could go to our room and do something that helps us both relax,” he said, stepping closer with a knowing look. “We’ve been far too busy lately. We deserve it.”

  Amara couldn’t help but laugh. She knew exactly what he meant.

  “Alright—but it’ll have to be quick.”

  Asier wasted no time taking her hand and leading her back through the palace. Their laughter echoed through the corridors as they hurried to their room. Once inside, they closed the door behind them. Asier pulled Amara by the waist and kissed her passionately. Not wanting to waste any time, Amara pushed him onto the bed, and together they forgot about the outside world for a while. When they were done, they got ready to continue with the day’s duties, conspiratorial smiles still lingering on their lips.

  Later, during dinner, they discussed future plans. Amara mentioned her intention to learn more about diplomacy and war strategies, something that pleasantly surprised Asier.

  “Your determination always inspires me, Amara,” he said, taking her hand across the table. “You’re a great empress.”

  “I just want to be worthy of you,” she replied with a smile.

  The night continued with its usual calm, wrapping the castle in a blanket of tranquility—a stark contrast to the storm of emotions soon to be unleashed. Amara and Asier retired to their chamber, seeking a moment of peace amid the uncertainty. The dim candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, creating an intimate, slightly melancholic atmosphere. Asier, lying beside Amara, broke the silence with a confession he had carried heavily in his heart.

  “In a month, I’ll be leaving for Aeloria,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with restrained sadness. “The war will begin.”

  Amara looked at him, her eyes reflecting worry and unease. His words echoed in her mind, filling her with a fear she tried to conceal. Noticing her distress, Asier gently caressed her cheek, as though trying to memorize every detail of her face.

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  “I don’t want to leave you here, but I have no choice,” he continued, barely above a whisper. “Even if we’re apart, I’ll carry you with me every second. I’ll do whatever it takes to come back to you, Amara.”

  She took his hand, trying to comfort him despite her own trembling heart. She kissed him softly, as if the gesture could seal a promise of mutual protection.

  “I know, Asier. I know you’ll do everything to return,” she said quietly. “I just hope the war ends soon, and that we can be together peacefully for the rest of our lives.”

  Asier held her tightly, as if trying to absorb the warmth of her body and store it in his memory.

  “I can’t wait to spend my life with you,” he murmured tenderly. “And I hope that one day, when you’re ready, we can have children. I want to build a family with you, Amara. It’s my greatest dream.”

  His words caught Amara off guard. She looked at him intently, searching his eyes for sincerity.

  “Is that really what you want?” she asked softly.

  “Yes,” he replied firmly, a small smile curving his lips. “I’m certain they’d be lucky to have a mother as brave, loving, and strong as you.”

  Amara smiled, deeply moved by his honesty. She touched his face gently, letting a spark of hope ignite in her heart.

  “And they’d be lucky to have a father like you,” she replied, with a tenderness only Asier could draw from her.

  Later that night, when silence once again filled the room, Amara woke to find the space beside her empty. She knew Asier well enough to guess he was working on preparations for the impending war. She rose quietly and walked out onto the balcony. The full moon bathed the landscape in an ethereal glow, but the beauty of the night did nothing to calm the chaotic thoughts swirling in her mind.

  The thought of Asier’s departure filled her with uncertainty. Though she trusted his strength and abilities, she couldn’t ignore the quiet fear settling in her chest. I want to be by his side, she thought with determination. She knew he would never agree to let her come with him—but she was resolved to find a way to convince him.

  Just as she was about to head to his office to speak with him, a strange sound made her stop. She turned toward the balcony, her eyes scanning the darkness. Before she could react, she saw a man climbing toward her with agile movements. Amara opened her mouth to scream, but he was faster, covering her mouth with a rough hand as a sharp sting at her neck made her collapse.

  Everything went black.

  When she regained partial consciousness, she felt the movement of a carriage. The sound of wheels striking stone felt distant, as if she were trapped in a dream. Her eyes tried to open, but her vision was blurred. She barely made out the man seated across from her. His voice, however, was clear as he ordered the driver:

  “Hurry. The king is waiting for us.”

  Amara tried to scream, but the words died in her throat. The only thing she managed to whisper was Asier’s name before slipping back into unconsciousness.

  Hours later, she awoke in a room that seemed pulled from a dream… or a nightmare. Heavy red velvet curtains cascaded from ceiling to floor, enclosing the bed in a suffocating cocoon of luxury. The bedspread was silk, adorned with intricate gold embroidery, and the pillows were so soft they nearly swallowed her. Yet all the richness and splendor failed to dispel the crushing sense of captivity weighing on her like an invisible stone.

  She opened her eyes fully, trying to focus on the ornate ceiling. Her throat was dry, as though she had swallowed ashes, and a dull dizziness clouded her senses. When she tried to move, her body responded sluggishly, every muscle sore and weak—an unwelcome reminder of the injection. A sharp pang of anguish shot through her chest as the ambush came rushing back: the needle, the cold pressure of the liquid flooding her veins, and then… darkness.

  Gathering her strength, she sat on the edge of the bed, her bare feet brushing the cold marble floor. The tiles gleamed beneath the faint light filtering through the parted curtains. Everything in the room was designed to overwhelm—from the crystal chandeliers hanging above to the enormous gilded mirror reflecting her disheveled figure. Amara didn’t belong there. She knew it deep in her soul.

  With great effort, she stood. Her legs trembled beneath her weight, but there was no time for weakness. She scanned the room for an exit and spotted a tall, dark wooden door carved with scenes of ancient battles. She rushed toward it, ignoring the vertigo threatening to bring her down. She twisted the handle desperately, but the door didn’t budge.

  Locked.

  She hurried across the room, clumsily pulling aside the curtains covering the glass doors. Stepping onto the balcony, a cold breeze struck her face, clearing her mind slightly. The view before her was vast and majestic—yet terrifyingly familiar. Rolling green hills, winding roads, rooftops clustered in the distance…

  Aeloria.

  A knot twisted in her stomach as recognition set in. It couldn’t be. It shouldn’t be. How had she gotten there? Who had brought her? And most importantly—why?

  Before she could gather her thoughts or form a plan, a sound made her spin around. The bedroom door burst open, slamming against the wall. Amara froze, her heart stopping for a split second before pounding wildly.

  A man entered, and the air seemed to grow heavier. She recognized him instantly—his tall, slender figure, his golden hair gleaming even in the dim light, and those cold, piercing eyes that seemed capable of seeing into her very soul.

  Anwar.

  The new king of Aeloria.

  He wore a crown encrusted with gems of every color, and his bearing was that of someone who believed the world belonged to him. A crooked smile curled his lips, cold and calculating, as though he delighted in the fear he had sown.

  “I’ve waited a long time for this moment,” he said softly, his voice laced with menace.

  Amara instinctively stepped back, hitting the balcony railing. Her hands trembled as she searched for something to hold onto. She couldn’t hide the terror in her eyes, even as she tried to maintain a fa?ade of bravery.

  Anwar took another step toward her, his movements slow and confident, like a predator cornering its prey.

  “Welcome home, Amara,” he continued, his tone filled with a nearly cruel satisfaction. “I hope you’re ready for your new role in my kingdom.”

  Panic threatened to consume her—but something ignited within her. Fear, yes, but also anger. A quiet fury simmered beneath the surface, demanding to be unleashed. She didn’t know what Anwar was planning, but one thing was certain:

  She would not let him break her again.