— Darius' POV
I saw it all. Every word. Every glance. Every twitch of the emperor's jaw as Classic questioned him in front of the council. From the upper mezzanine of the chamber, where shadows and silence were my allies, I leaned against a marble column, cloaked in black, earpiece silent, pulse steady.
But inside?
Inside, I was torn.
Classic was saying what many feared to whisper—but not out of disloyalty. His voice, though bold, trembled with concern, not rebellion. And that made him dangerous—not just to enemies—but to the empire itself.
Amara didn't move when Classic spoke. Didn't flinch. Didn't blink. She let Chris handle it—let the emperor wield his tongue like a blade. But I saw it in her eyes… the faintest flicker of surprise. And something else—irritation.
> She didn't see it coming, I thought. None of them did.
But I did.
Classic was no longer just the prince behind the throne. He was beginning to step forward—slowly, methodically. That kind of presence always forces a reaction. It's what we're trained to spot. To eliminate. Or… to protect.
I tapped a quick message on my secure device to Amara's encrypted channel:
"Classic won't stay in the shadows forever. Recommend we watch him closely—but not silence him. Not yet."
Sent.
I didn't know what she'd do with that. Amara could be impulsive, lethal, and proud. But she also respected intelligence. If she wanted to rule beside Chris, she'd have to play a longer game. And Classic?
Classic might be her greatest threat—or her greatest ally—if she had the wisdom to see it.
The council chamber began to clear. Chris disappeared into one of the secured lifts. Amara lingered a moment, her eyes tracing the path Classic had walked out of the hall.
I stayed where I was, unseen.
Waiting.
Watching.
Because in this empire, the most dangerous conversations don't happen on the floor.
They happen in the silence between steps…
And I was the one who lived there.
—