Scene: Chris's Chamber — Amara's POV
The door to his chamber closed behind me with a heavy, echoing click. I stood still for a second, letting the silence settle between us.
Chris sat on the edge of the velvet-lined bed, his crown removed, placed carefully on a table beside him like it was suddenly too heavy for his head.
No guards.
No council.
Just him and me.
The man who ruled the world, asking the one question no law could answer.
> "Are we good now?" he asked, eyes searching mine—not as Blackwood 01, not as Emperor… but as the man I married.
I didn't answer immediately.
I walked past him, straight to the tall window that overlooked the courtyard. From this high up, the banners still danced with the dying wind of the funeral. People were dispersing. The echo of my speech still rang in their minds. And Classic's challenge still hovered in mine.
I finally turned to him.
> "You sent me out there to speak for you," I said calmly. "To take the storm in your name."
Chris nodded once. "I trusted you."
> "But trust isn't a one-way corridor, Chris," I continued, stepping toward him. "You stayed silent. You stayed hidden. You ordered a funeral and wouldn't stand beside the man you killed. And now, you ask me if we're good?"
He stood now too, meeting me face to face.
> "I needed to watch," he said, voice low. "To see who they'd follow. You… or me."
That stung.
> "So it was a test," I whispered.
He didn't deny it.
> "Everything is a test, Amara. This throne doesn't survive on love and loyalty alone. It survives on fear, perception, power."
I shook my head.
> "And where does that leave us?" I asked.
He looked away for a second. Just long enough for me to see the crack in the mask.
Then he spoke again—softer this time.
> "You held the empire together today. You honored Darius better than I ever could. You reminded them I still rule… even when I'm not present. So yes—if you're asking… I'm grateful."
Another pause. He stepped closer.
> "But I still need to know—are we good now?"
I looked at him. Studied him. The man who once promised me the world. The man who crowned me Empress. The man who pulled the trigger that started this divide.
I thought of everything.
The silence.
The betrayal.
The loyalty.
The fire in my blood… and the ache in my chest.
I raised my hand.
Took his.
> "We're not good," I said softly. "But we're not broken either."
I watched relief wash over his face—quiet, subtle.
> "We're not good," I repeated, "but we're still standing."
He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
And for now… that was enough.