Queen Amara's POV:
The palace was too quiet.
Not the peaceful kind of quiet — the dangerous kind. The kind that creeps into your bones and warns you that something's about to break.
I stood by the window of the royal quarters, still in my evening gown, hands clasped together. It was almost midnight when I heard it — the heavy slam of the palace gates.
Then footsteps.
Boots.
Fast. Angry. Purposeful.
"Your Majesty?" one of the guards whispered beside the door.
I didn't answer. I didn't need to. I could already feel it — he was back.
The doors flew open. Chris stormed in, his coat torn, dust on his shoulders, the faint smell of smoke trailing behind him. His eyes — those cold, sharp eyes — locked on me immediately.
For a heartbeat, he said nothing. Just breathing, deep and slow.
Then—
> "Your soldiers didn't recognize me, Amara."
I froze.
He took another step forward, the ground seeming to shift beneath his anger. "I walked into my own military base like a beggar, and not one of them knew. Not one."
I tried to speak, but his tone cut through me like steel.
> "They laughed, Amara. My own army. The BAM laughed."
He ran his hand through his hair and smashed a nearby vase against the wall. The sound made the guards outside flinch.
I stepped closer, cautiously. "Chris… please, sit down. You're exhausted. Let's talk about this—"
He turned, eyes burning. "Talk? They lost their fear of me, Amara. That's not exhaustion — that's rebellion waiting to breathe."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Then, slowly, he looked at me again — and this time his voice softened, but only slightly.
> "I built this empire from the ground up. But it's you they now cheer for in the streets. You. The gentle Queen. The merciful hand."
I frowned, my heart twisting. "Chris, I never meant—"
> "I know you didn't."
His voice was quieter now. Dangerous in its calm.
> "But kindness breeds boldness. They've started to see me as the shadow behind your light. That can't continue."
I stepped closer, my voice low, trembling. "Are you saying you regret what I did?"
He shook his head. "No. I'm saying mercy without fear is weakness."
Then, to my surprise, he reached for my hand — cold, calloused fingers tightening around mine. His touch was rough, desperate.
> "Amara… if you ever see me become a monster, don't stop me. Stand beside me."
I looked up at him, my throat tightening. "And if I refuse?"
He leaned in — his breath ghosting my skin, his words a whisper only I could hear.
> "Then I'll turn the whole empire upside down until you understand why I can't be loved more than feared."
And just like that, he let go — storming past me, disappearing into the hall where his footsteps echoed long after he was gone.
I stood frozen. My heartbeat was louder than the silence.
Outside, thunder rolled across the capital skies.
Inside, the storm had already arrived.
—To be continued—