Abisai
Bamylan is seated in an armchair beside her father. As soon as they see me enter, Faguer stands immediately.
"What happened?" I ask without preamble.
"Someone attacked my daughter while she was taking a nap," Faguer responds, red with indignation. "It was a clear attempt on the future empress's life."
My eyes settle on Bamylan. She returns my gaze with those fiery yellow eyes, feigning vulnerability she doesn't feel. While my father gives orders and reinforces the guard, I already understand what happened.
A slow, cold smile curves my lips.
Predictable.
"Bamylan, come with me," I say in a tone that brooks no argument.
She rises with feline elegance. She is beautiful, striking, worthy of the title of empress… but she's not Zabina. She lacks that wild sweetness, that mix of shyness and fire that has me obsessed.
I extend my hand. Bamylan takes it without hesitation and clings to it with too much possessiveness.
We leave the hall.
As soon as we turn into the first deserted corridor, I corner her against the wall with a quick, precise movement. My body is just centimetres from hers. She gasps, surprised, but her yellow eyes shine with excitement.
"What are you trying to achieve by calling attention to yourself this way?" I ask.
The smile on her lips spreads, bold and without a hint of shame.
"Bravo. How did you figure it out so fast?"
I push my hair off my forehead and take a step back, looking at her coldly.
"Because I was the one who organized the security of this palace, Bamylan. Not you. And because I know the games of power very well."
She lifts her chin, proud and unrepentant.
"I arranged for it to be known that someone attacked me. The attempt was real. I just ordered it myself. A little scratch here, a scare there. Nothing that puts the future empress's life at risk."
I look at her in silence for a second, evaluating her.
"Do you know what you risk by doing something so stupid?"
"I risk what you force me to risk," her fiery eyes don't leave mine. "I was brought here to be your wife. My father made a pact with yours. My blood is as noble as yours, my dowry paid for the last military campaign, and my name opened doors your empire needed. And you? You have a human concubine in your chambers all day long. You look at her as if she were the sun. What am I supposed to do in the meantime? Embroider? Wait my turn like a good decorative wife?"
"Do you stage an attack on yourself just to tell me this? She saved my life," I reply coldly.
"And I will give you heirs," she answers without blinking. "Do you think I don't know? The tiara your father gave her makes her untouchable. But that doesn't mean I have to swallow in silence while you prefer her over me in front of the entire court."
She takes a step toward me. Now it's her turn to try to corner me.
"I didn't come all this way to be second," she continues. "Nor to be the decorative empress while you whisper promises to another. Your duty is with me. Your throne will be mine. And if you don't give me the place that is rightfully mine, I will come and take it."
"Take it?" My voice drops even lower, dangerous, almost a growl.
"Don't underestimate me," her fingers tighten on the fabric of my tunic. "I can be patient if I have to. I can wait for her to make a mistake. I can weave alliances while she only weaves dreams in your chest. But I'd rather not. I'd rather you look at me. That you see me. That you know I'm the only one who can sit beside you without the empire trembling."
She releases my tunic with an elegant gesture and steps back, adjusting her hair as if nothing happened.
"I'm not asking you to stop loving her," she adds, and for the first time there's a different nuance in her voice, something that could almost be mistaken for a wound. "I'm asking you not to make me invisible. Not to turn my throne into a cage while she occupies your heart."
I look at her in silence for several seconds. I smile, slow and cold.
"Listen to me well, Bamylan," I say, approaching her again until my breath brushes her ear. "You will be my wife by alliance. That's a fact. But never confuse that title with power over me. Zabina is mine. I want her in my chambers, in my bed, and under my protection. And if that bothers you… learn to swallow it with elegance."
Her eyes shine with rage.
"And if I don't want to swallow it?"
"Then you'll be a very unhappy empress," I reply mercilessly. "Because I don't share what I consider mine, and I certainly don't allow anyone to try to manipulate me with false attacks. The next attempt to get my attention this way won't end so well for you."
Bamylan is silent for a moment. Then she lets out a soft, almost seductive laugh, trying to regain ground.
"You're crueler than I imagined, Abisai."
"No," I correct, looking directly into her eyes. "I'm more honest. And I suggest you start being honest too. If you ever put the stability of the kingdom at risk again just to feed your jealousy, I won't hesitate to send you back to the Mordur clan. Empress title or not."
I step away from her.
"Now go to your father. And behave like the future empress you're supposed to be."
Bamylan looks at me.
"As you command… my prince."
She turns and walks away with her back straight, but I know she's furious.
I stay in the empty hallway, with the echo of her words still floating in the air.
I don't know if I've just gained a dangerous ally… or declared a silent war within my own future empire.
Perhaps both.
And as I walk back to my chambers, I can only think of one thing:
Zabina.
Because no matter how much Bamylan tries to claim her place, the only woman who truly sets my blood on fire is the white dragon I have hidden in my bed.
Zymei approaches with quick steps and gives a brief bow.
"My uncle told me Higmer is in Padras," I say without preamble. "Send Rumá to confirm it. I don't know why I can't get it out of my head that my cousin is involved in all this."
Zymei nods.
"As you command, prince."
When he tries to leave, I stop him with a gesture.
"Also, send two men to protect the future empress. I don't want any more scares."
Zymei raises an eyebrow, with that half-smile he only allows himself when we're alone.
"Just protect her?"
I smile coldly.
"I also want to be informed of everything she does and who she meets with. I don't want rumors circulating that I don't protect the future empress… or that she does whatever she wants behind my back."
"Of course, prince," he replies, containing a laugh. "Remember that dinner is in an hour, in the banquet hall."
I snort.
I had completely forgotten.
I enter the banquet hall with the weight of the crown I don't yet wear, but already feel on my shoulders.
Now I must sit where my brother sat. That place irritates me more than it should. I was used to dining with my men after training, laughing, drinking, and skipping all these empty formalities. We're still in the days of mourning for Agur, so his widow is present with her three daughters. I snort internally. If only she had given birth to a son… but no. Three girls.
Life itself seemed to have conspired against me, and the poor widow had tasted too much of a title that never truly became hers.
I take my seat beside Bamylan.
She smiles at me with perfect composure, as if we had never had that conversation in the hallway. Her yellow eyes shine with intelligence. I think she's learning what her place is… and that I'm the one who sets the laws here.
"Prince," she says softly, inclining her head slightly. "I'm glad you could join us."
I glance at her sideways. Beautiful, yes. But her smile provokes nothing in me. No warmth, no desire, not even curiosity.
"Bamylan," I reply politely. "I see you've recovered quickly from… this afternoon's incident."
Her lips curve slightly.
"It was just a scare. Nothing I can't handle."
The message is clear: "Don't underestimate me."
I smile sideways.
"Good. Because in this kingdom, scares tend to turn into problems very quickly. And I don't tolerate problems that can be avoided."
She holds my gaze before lowering her eyes with feigned submission.
"Understood, my prince."
The rest of the dinner passes in tense silence sprinkled with empty political conversations. My father speaks little. Agur's widow barely touches her food.
I can only think of one thing: how, despite all the power I've just inherited, the only person I really want to see tonight is the white dragon I never should have desired.