Raegar watched as Dahlia's amber eyes gleamed with a mischievous spark, her lips curling into a smile that held the weight of a thousand secrets. The garden, still thick with the scent of scorched earth and blood, seemed to hold its breath. Every soldier, advisor, and onlooker leaned forward as the Empress raised a delicate hand to command silence.
''Raegar Blackwood, son of Alaric Blackwood, Guardian of Drakenwood and my empire,'' she began, her voice carried across the stunned crowd. ''Your loyalty, your strength, and your defiance have proven you worthy of more than mere titles or gold.''
She paused, her gaze locking onto his, a silent challenge, making his heart thud against his ribs. ''For your final prize, I name you my betrothed, the future consort of the Empire and the man that will help me rule!''
