Continuation — Chris's POV
The rain hadn't stopped since the moment she was dragged out. Maybe the heavens were mocking me — or mourning her fall.
Hours had passed, but her voice still echoed in my mind. "You'll regret this, Chris."
Maybe I already did.
But power doesn't allow for regret. It demands silence.
I dismissed the guards at the eastern corridor of the palace and walked alone. The torchlights flickered on the marble walls as my boots echoed — slow, deliberate steps toward the chamber where she was kept.
When I reached the door, the two stationed soldiers stiffened.
"Open it," I ordered.
They hesitated — just for a heartbeat — then obeyed. The heavy door creaked open, revealing Amara seated by the window, her crown gone, her wrists still marked by the cold iron cuffs.
She didn't look up when I entered.
"You came to admire your work?" she asked, voice low and sharp. "Or to make sure I'm broken?"
I stepped closer, but her reflection in the glass stopped me. She still looked regal — stripped of her throne but not her fire.
"I came because…" I exhaled slowly, "because this wasn't supposed to happen like this."
She turned, her eyes locking on mine. "No, Chris. This is exactly what was supposed to happen. You built an empire on control — and now you've become its prisoner."
I clenched my jaw. "You defied me in front of the council, Amara. You challenged my decree."
"I saved you from another mistake!" she snapped. "You're pushing the empire into fear, not unity."
"Fear keeps people in line," I replied coldly. "Love doesn't."
"Then what about us?" she demanded, rising to her feet. "Was that fear too? Or love?"
Silence.
The question struck deeper than I wanted to admit.
I walked closer until there was barely a breath between us. Her eyes glistened with anger, but I saw something else behind it — pain, betrayal, longing.
"I didn't come here to argue," I murmured. "I came because despite everything, I can't ignore what you are to me."
She laughed bitterly. "A dethroned queen?"
"No." I paused. "The only person who still makes me question my own decisions."
For a second, her gaze softened — just a second — before she looked away.
"You should go," she said quietly. "Before your empire sees that their perfect emperor still bleeds."
I hesitated, staring at her one last time. Then I turned to leave. But before I stepped out, I said what I shouldn't have:
"You're wrong, Amara. The empire doesn't need balance… but I still need you."
And with that, I left her in the dim chamber — the sound of the rain covering the war inside both of us.
— To be continued…