Valerius stood near the edge of the firelight, shadows stretching across his silver hair, his gaze sharp—fixed on her.

  "You haven't tried to escape," he said, his voice low. "Not even once."

  Lysara didn’t answer right away. Her eyes remained on the fire, flickering gold and blue as the fmes danced in them. The silence stretched between them.

  “I expected resistance,” he added. “A dozen escape pns. At least one try.”

  She breathed out, not quite a sigh. “I considered it.”

  “Then why not?” His tone wasn’t teasing. It was curious… maybe something more.

  Lysara turned her head slowly, meeting his gaze. “Because going home now would mean certain death.”

  Val’s expression didn’t change, but she saw the way his fingers stopped moving at his side.

  “If you hadn’t given me that medicine,” she continued, her voice steady, “I wouldn’t have sted a week. Maybe less.”

  She looked back at the fire.

  “I knew what that illness was doing to me. I could feel it. I just… didn't say anything.”

  Val was silent.

  “So,” she went on, quieter now, “what’s the point of returning to my kingdom, to my people, if all they’d see is their Empress fading away? I’d rather disappear for a while—let them think what they will. If I return, I’ll return stronger. Or not at all.”

  A breeze rustled through the trees. The fire crackled.

  Val finally spoke, his voice gentler than before. “You’re risking everything.”

  She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ve taken bigger risks with less to win.”

  There was no warmth in her tone. Only honesty.

  And maybe—just maybe—a tiny spark of hope she hadn't allowed herself to feel in years.

  A moment past by. And the sunrise has came.

  Valerius Dracul stood in the midst of the bustling marketpce, his crimson eyes watching Lysara from a distance. The day was quiet, with the sun dipping low, casting a warm glow over the scene. The air smelled faintly of fresh bread and the tang of wood burning from a nearby forge. The cmor of the marketpce—a pce where simple folk sold their wares—was a stark contrast to the looming, silent tension between him and Lysara.

  She was amidst them, walking with the ease and grace of someone who had spent her life in the company of others. Lysara, despite the many yers of responsibility she carried, was engaging with the people in a way Val had never seen before.

  She spoke to a baker, her ughter ringing through the air like music. Her eyes shifted from blue to gold as she smiled at the elderly woman who handed her a loaf of bread. The people around her—simple citizens, not soldiers or nobles—treated her as one of their own. Val observed how her eyes softened, taking in every word and every gesture with full attention. Her eyes changed again—this time to a bright, clear silver as she teasingly argued with a young man about the quality of his produce.

  "You're cheating the public with these strawberries, young man," she teased, tapping him on the shoulder. "This won't do for a queen."

  Her smile was infectious, and the young man ughed, shaking his head as he handed her a basket of fruit in mock surrender. Val watched as she effortlessly charmed those around her, her energy a force all its own. She was light and full of life, constantly moving and never standing still, her ughter often mingling with the sounds of the crowd.

  For a moment, he felt an odd pull in his chest. This woman—this Empress—was different from the one he had seen in battle. In the heat of conflict, she was focused, calcuting, and unyielding. But here, surrounded by the common folk, Lysara was something else entirely. She was pyful, mischievous, and almost... endearing.

  She caught his gaze then, and her expression immediately shifted. The carefree smile faded, repced by a more guarded look. Her eyes turned a cool, stormy blue as she met his gaze with a mixture of wariness and defiance.

  "Ka'el," she said softly, her voice still light, though there was an edge to it. “I see you’re still lurking about.”

  Val didn’t flinch. His posture remained rexed, though his mind was on high alert. “Not lurking. Observing.”

  “Observing, huh?” Lysara tilted her head, her pyful gaze flickering with an unspoken challenge. “So, what exactly are you observing? My charm? My wit?” She smiled, the sparkle in her eyes betraying the teasing tone in her voice.

  He couldn’t deny that she had a certain... presence. Her eyes shifted once again, from blue to a glinting gold that made her look almost otherworldly. For a brief moment, Val allowed himself to acknowledge how mesmerizing she truly was. There was a certain beauty in the way she moved, her energy so vibrant that it seemed to draw people in. But it was her eyes—the way they shifted, showing her every emotion—that made her captivating.

  “I’m observing how you manage to distract yourself so easily,” Val said dryly, though there was a hint of curiosity hidden beneath the words. “In a world where every action carries weight, you seem... unfazed by everything.”

  Lysara chuckled, a carefree sound that filled the space between them. “You know, Ka'el, it’s a gift to be able to live in the moment. I’ve learned that life’s too short to be burdened by constant worry. People here, they understand that. They take what comes and find joy in what they can.”

  Val’s lips tightened, but not in irritation. Her words struck something deep inside him. He had spent his life weighed down by responsibility, by the ever-looming presence of war and conquest. His people needed him to be serious, focused, calcuting. But here she was, living with joy, even amidst the chaos. It was a lifestyle he didn’t understand but couldn’t ignore.

  Lysara’s expression softened, her eyes shifting back to blue as she returned to the marketpce. “You should try it sometime, Ka'el,” she said with a wink. “It might help you loosen up.”

  Val couldn’t help but notice the ease with which she interacted with those around her. Her pyfulness, her teasing, and her ability to genuinely care for others. She was a queen to them, yet she seemed to be one of them—someone who lived alongside the people she ruled, rather than above them.

  As Lysara continued her interactions with the market vendors, Val remained a few steps behind, watching intently. His mind was focused, but there was something about her that intrigued him—something he didn’t fully understand. Despite the constant tension, despite the fact that they were enemies, there was a spark of something he couldn’t ignore.

  “You’re not very good at hiding your curiosity,” Lysara said over her shoulder, her voice teasing but still holding that hint of wariness. “I can see the gears turning in that head of yours. Don’t overthink it.”

  Val stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m not overthinking anything. Just... observing.”

  She gnced at him, her eyes shifting from gold to a soft blue as she smiled. “You say that, but I can tell. You’re always thinking, aren’t you?”

  He didn’t answer immediately, watching as she accepted a handful of flowers from an old woman, her ughter filling the air once again. There was something oddly disarming about her. Despite the fact that she was his enemy, despite her status and power, there was a warmth about her—a humanity—that made him feel... strangely out of pce.

  It was only when the distant sound of footsteps and shouting broke his thoughts that Val’s attention snapped back to the present. A group of armed men were approaching the marketpce, their intentions clear. They weren’t the same invaders from before, but Val didn’t need to guess their purpose. They were here for trouble.

  “Stay close,” he murmured to Lysara, his instincts kicking in.

  She gnced at him, her eyes darkening into a stormy gray. “I’m no damsel in distress Ka'el,” she said with a mischievous smile. “But I’ll stay close if it means I get to watch your calcutions in action.”

  Val couldn’t help the brief smirk that crossed his face. “This isn’t a game, Lysara.”

  “No,” she said, her voice suddenly serious as she squared her shoulders. “But it’s a game we both py.”

  And just like that, the pyful, teasing side of her was gone, repced with the Empress he had faced on the battlefield. Lysara’s eyes glowed with a fierce determination, and she turned to face the approaching enemies. Val did the same, the air around them charged with tension.

  It was clear now: despite their differences, they were united by necessity. The alliance, however temporary, had become something more.

  And perhaps, in the chaos to come, they would learn to rely on each other even more than they realized.

  The battlefield was chaos. The air was thick with smoke, the scent of blood and dust mixing into a suffocating cloud. Men shouted, horses neighed in panic, and the csh of steel echoed across the valley.

  Valerius Dracul stood at the front of his forces, watching the enemy approach with a steady, calcuting gaze.

  His crimson eyes scanned the horizon, noting the patterns of the opposing army as they closed in.

  His mind was sharp, precise—every move, every strategy falling into pce in his head. He didn’t need to get his hands dirty to win this battle.

  His soldiers, his empire, would do the work for him. But something gnawed at him. It wasn’t just the heat of the battle or the power he wielded.

  It was the absence of Lysara, the Empress who had been his unexpected rival, and yet... something more.

  Lysara was nowhere to be seen on the battlefield.