The palace gates opened at dawn. Aarohi walked through them alone. She was wearing a coat that was black and too thin for the desert morning, and her hair was loose, and her face was bare, and she was carrying nothing. No weapons. No luggage. No proof that she was anything other than a woman who had changed her mind.

Rajveer stood at the entrance. He was wearing a robe of white silk, and his silver hair was catching the first light, and his eyes were the color of a man who had won a war. He did not smile. He did not speak. He simply opened his arms.

She walked to him. She stopped three feet away. She looked at him. She looked at the man who had imprisoned her. Who had broken her. Who had rebuilt her. Who loved her. Who owned her.

"I came back," she said.

"I know."

"Why did you not stop me?"

"Because I wanted to see if you would return. Because I wanted to know if you loved me enough to come back. And because I wanted to know if you loved power enough to choose it over freedom."

"And what did you learn?"

He smiled. It was a sad smile. A tired smile. A smile of a man who had spent his life winning battles and was now wondering if the war was worth the cost.

"I learned that you are not free. That you are not a prisoner. That you are simply a woman who is torn between two worlds. And I learned that I am one of those worlds. And that is enough. For now."

He stepped forward. He touched her face. His fingers were warm. His touch was gentle. His eyes were soft.

"Welcome home, my queen. The throne is waiting."

She did not flinch. She did not pull away. She let him touch her. She let him lead her. She let him walk her through the palace, through the corridors, through the gates of the empire, and she knew that she was walking into the fire.

But she was also walking toward the end. The end of the empire. The end of the throne. The end of the king.

And she was going to be the one who finished it.

---

The throne room was empty. The cathedral was lit by candles, and the obsidian throne sat in the center, and the serpents were coiled, and the wings were spread, and it was waiting.

Rajveer led her to the dais. He did not sit. He stood beside the throne, and he looked at her, and he waited.

"Sit," he said.

She sat. The obsidian was cold. The power was immediate. The throne was alive, and it was hungry, and it was pulling her in.

"You are the queen," he said. "You are the ruler of the empire. And I am your king. And together, we are unstoppable. And I will never let you go again. And I will never doubt you again. And I will never hurt you again. Because I have learned that love is not control. Love is trust. And I trust you. With my empire. With my life. With my heart."

She looked at him. She looked at the man who was offering her everything. And she felt the tears in her eyes. Because she was going to destroy him. She was going to take everything he offered and burn it. And she was going to hate herself for it.

"I trust you too," she said. And it was a lie. But it was also true. Because she trusted him to love her. She trusted him to want her. She trusted him to be predictable. And that was the only trust she needed.

He knelt. He kissed her hand. He looked up at her with eyes that were full of love and worship and the kind of devotion that was also dangerous.

"I love you, Aarohi. I love you more than the empire. More than the power. More than the throne. And I will spend the rest of my life proving it."

She looked at him. She looked at the throne. She looked at the empire that was spread out around them, and she felt the weight of the moment. The weight of the choice. The weight of the betrayal that was coming.

"I love you too," she said. And she did not know if it was a lie.

She stood. She walked to the window. She looked at the desert. She looked at the city. She looked at the world that was waiting for her to burn it down.

And she smiled. Because she was the queen. And the queen was coming for the king.