Scene: Still in Chris' Chamber
The air in the chamber felt denser now—like a storm cloud pressing into the very walls.
Amara stood unmoving, lips parted slightly, heart beating too loud for her liking. The weight of what just happened lingered in the air like gunpowder smoke.
Chris poured another glass, the clink of liquid the only sound between them. He didn't look up.
"You killed Darius," Amara finally said, her voice low, calm—but beneath it, something trembled. "Without trial. Without reason."
Chris turned his head just a fraction, eyes sharp. "The reason was defiance. Defiance in my house, at my door."
Amara stepped forward slowly, deliberately. "He was loyal to me. You shot a man who protected your wife. You're telling me that that makes him dangerous?"
"He tried to force entry. Into my chamber. While I was handling you," Chris said, jaw clenched. "He questioned my command. That's two strikes already."
Amara's fists curled at her sides. "He loved me."
"I know," Chris replied coldly. "That's strike three."
Silence.
The words hit her like a slap. Her breath caught, but she didn't let him see the break. She straightened. Hardened.
"You're afraid," she whispered.
Chris laughed—an empty, humorless sound. "Afraid? Amara, I've silenced empires, melted rebellion, killed my own blood. I'm not afraid."
"You're afraid of losing control," she shot back. "And so you kill what you don't understand."
Chris stepped toward her. "No. I kill what threatens my order."
They stood toe to toe now. Flames danced in both their eyes, love clashing with power, grief wrapped in fury.
He spoke again, lower this time. "I do love you, Amara. That's why you're still standing. But I'm not a man anymore. I'm an empire."
Amara didn't blink. "And I'm your empress. Don't ever forget that."
She turned on her heel and walked out of the chamber.
As the door shut behind her, Chris stood still, staring into the flickering light. A ruler surrounded by ghosts of loyalty and choices too sharp to reverse.