Later that night, the world shifted beneath them.

  Armada: "Exile him, Duri. Exile Valerian. We have no other choice." Her voice was a low, dangerous purr.

  Duri: "No." Duri shook his head slowly, the movement heavy with dread. "To exile him would tear this empire apart. It would mean civil war. Everyone knows his name, his deeds, his strength. If he revolts, the very fabric of this empire will unravel, and we will be left with nothing."

  Armada: "But we have an army, we have soldiers, and you—no one is as powerful as you. You can crush him beneath your heel." Her eyes gleamed, a predatory glint.

  Duri: Duri shook his head again, a deeper tremor in the gesture. "He has his wife, the first champion, the one who fought alongside me. You do not understand her strength. I fought with her, I saw what she can do. Do not forget—when the war came to an end, it was she who stopped it. She was the one who made the elders of Draga reconsider. Her might is something you do not grasp."

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  Armada: Her voice was hard as stone, cutting through his words. "She is weakened. I have heard whispers, Duri. She gave her life essence to her son—he would not have survived without her sacrifice. We can take her."

  Duri: The tension in the air was thick, almost suffocating. "I will not risk a civil war on mere rumours. If she could destroy our best soldiers in minutes, what do you think she can do now? If not for my brother’s array, our castle would be in ruins. Do not underestimate her."

  The silence hung for a moment, heavy and fraught, before Armada spoke again, her eyes gleaming with cold determination.

  Armada: "Then give him half of the empire to rule. It is the only way." She said, and then, a slow, devious smile spread across her lips as she began to narrate her whole plan.

  Duri was silent, stunned by the audacity of such a plan. The words pierced him like a dagger. His wife’s treachery, the empire’s security, and his throne... He had no choice. He was cornered.