– Amara's POV
I stepped out of the chamber and let the heavy door close behind me. The soft thunk echoed louder than expected.
It felt final. Too final.
I didn't cry. I couldn't. Not tonight.
Not after everything I swallowed, every silence I endured in the name of love… of duty… of the damn empire that kept reshaping me into something colder, harder—something less human.
I walked past the corridor guards who stood at attention like statues, but their eyes shifted. They could feel the shift in the air. Everyone could.
Chris, the emperor of the empire, had just knelt to me.
But why didn't it feel like a win?
I made my way to my private quarters, kicked off the heels that had been stabbing into my feet all day, and sat at the edge of the bed. The moonlight hit the wedding ring on my finger—it sparkled beautifully, arrogantly. Just like the crown they all expected me to wear without question.
I stared at it.
And for a moment—I hated it.
Not because I didn't love Chris. I did. But love without power… is servitude. And I was done serving men who only remembered my worth when blood spilled or kingdoms cracked.
He wanted to make peace tonight. He thought kneeling would erase the weeks of political disrespect, the backroom deals, the silent sidelining.
I'm not just a woman who stands beside a king.
I am a queen who can destroy kingdoms.
But I let him in. I let him stay. Why?
Because for all the fury boiling inside me, I still saw him. The version of him that only I got to see when the doors closed. The version of him who lost sleep when I was in pain. The version who once whispered "I don't want to rule if you're not next to me."
But if he ever forgets again…
If he ever lets me become invisible in my own empire again…
I won't argue.
I won't plead.
I'll simply take the throne.
And he can kneel forever.
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