The throne room lay shrouded in shadows, the only light a flickering candle struggling against the darkness.
Emperor Zayyan Mirza sat unmoving on his gilded throne, his emerald robes flawless but his eyes colder than the marble beneath him. The weight of his empire pressed down like a blade—unyielding, merciless.
The heavy doors creaked open, and in stepped Rajkumari Siyamika Rathore, her vibrant silks a stark contrast against the somber hall. Her heart pounded beneath layers of silk and silence, but her eyes betrayed nothing.
This was no fairy tale. No tale of love and laughter.
This was a marriage of steel and shadow—a fragile peace forged to stop a war neither wished to fight.
And as their worlds collided, neither could guess how quickly cold vows would ignite a fire that would consume them both.
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