The moon cast a silver glow over the palace, bathing the stone corridors in a soft, eerie light. Zaria sat in the war chamber beside her father, King Jalil, her mother, Queen Nyara, and her brothers. Across from them sat Prince Rafael of Valroya, his expression unreadable as he waited for the king's response.
The parchment he had delivered earlier still lay open on the grand table, its inked words a silent warning.
"A war is coming," King Jalil said at last, his voice heavy. "And not just any war. One that threatens to consume our lands and Valroya alike."
Prince Rafael leaned forward, his blue eyes sharp. "The enemies you faced at the border are merely pawns. Someone is pulling the strings—someone powerful enough to unite warlords and traitors under a single banner."
Zaria clenched her fists. "And who is this puppet master?"
Rafael sighed. "That, I do not know. But my sources tell me that they have allies in many lands. They do not simply seek to conquer—they seek to destroy."
A heavy silence fell over the chamber.
Malik, the eldest prince, finally spoke. "Then we must prepare."
King Jalil nodded. "We must strengthen our armies, secure our borders, and find out who is behind this." He turned to Rafael. "You claim to have knowledge that can help us. Will Valroya stand beside us in this fight?"
Rafael did not hesitate. "Yes. Our alliance will be sealed in blood and steel."
Zaria studied him. His confidence was admirable, but she still did not fully trust him. He was a foreigner, a man who had grown up in a world unlike hers. And yet, there was something in his eyes—a quiet determination, a fire that matched her own.
"We must act quickly," Queen Nyara said. "If we wait too long, we may find the war knocking at our gates."
Jahi, the youngest prince, smirked. "Then let us take the fight to them first."
Zaria met his gaze, her blood stirring. She had tasted battle once, and though the scars still haunted her, she would not sit idle while her people were threatened.
She turned back to Rafael. "If we are to fight side by side, then I must know—can you be trusted?"
Rafael met her eyes and, for the first time, his smirk faded. He leaned closer, his voice low but steady.
"I did not cross the seas to betray you, Princess. I came because I believe our survival depends on one another."
For the first time since his arrival, Zaria felt the smallest ember of trust ignite within her.
Perhaps, just perhaps, this foreign prince was meant to be more than just an ally.
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