ERIS
I watched him ride away.
Soren... the man who'd been feeding me pastries and making me blush like some lovesick fool just minutes ago... transformed into the Ice Emperor of legend as he descended the mountain path.
Frost spread from his horse's hooves, creating a trail of white against dark stone. His guards formed a protective wedge around him, their movements synchronized, weapons already drawn despite the distance between mountaintop and capital.
He didn't look back.
"To the palanquin, Your Imperial Highness."
The title still felt foreign. Wrong. I'd been a queen, a villainess, a monster wearing a crown... but "Imperial Highness" suggested I belonged here, suggested Nevareth was mine to claim, and right now it felt like a lie told to comfort children before the darkness came.
