By dawn, sleep had not touched me.
Servants slipped into my chamber with lowered eyes, carrying silk the color of spilled pomegranate and molten gold. Crimson and rubies. Gold and fire. I didn't know why the Prince ordered it—why I must dress like a bride of the sun itself—but I did not protest.
The fabric whispered against my skin as they draped it around me. The sari shimmered like living flame—adorned with tiny emeralds, warm rubies, flecks of diamond dust. It looked like it could have paid for half the kingdom of Tan.
I sat still while they combed my hair, oiled it with jasmine and lotus, and dusted my skin with fine powdered gold. My face in the polished mirror… almost didn't look like mine.
My cheeks glowed like dawn-kissed petals. My eyes were brighter, almost luminescent. My skin, smoother, almost unreal. The golden flower from my dreams… had done something to me.
I smelled like a mythical garden—jasmine, honeyed fig, crushed lavender, fresh rain. Natural. Not made. Something new was breathing under my skin.
One of the servants froze as she placed the final pin in my hair. "My lady… you—"
"Quiet," the older one whispered, grabbing her wrist. They avoided my gaze—not out of disrespect, but reverence. Or fear.
I stood. And the world shifted.
——————————————————
Outside the Falcon Wing, marble floors gleamed like moonlight. The air was cool, tinged with salt from the distant sea. Two white horses waited at the entrance, reins braided in silver.
Prince Khalid stood beside them.
His robes today were storm-grey and black, edged with silver embroidery shaped like wings. The sigil of the falcon rested on his chest. His dark hair was caught in a simple clasp at his nape. He looked sharp, solemn… unreadable.
Until he saw me.
His breath caught sharply.
His gaze swept over me—my face, my glowing skin, the ruby silk catching morning light. His jaw tightened. For a brief moment, awe flared in his eyes… then concern.
"This is…" he muttered under his breath, voice deep and low, "dangerous."
My brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
He didn't answer. Not fully. His eyes only lingered a heartbeat longer before he shook his head—almost in defeat—and stepped forward.
Without a word, he extended his hand.
My pulse thundered. I placed my fingers in his.
His touch was warm, steady. He lifted me onto the horse with ease—his hand at my waist just long enough to steady me, though a tremor passed between us.
He mounted his own horse, glancing at me again—longer, softer this time.
"If the Emperor looks at you for too long…" he said quietly, reins tightening in his palm, "say nothing. Do nothing. Let me speak."
I swallowed, my heart drumming like war. "Yes, Your Highness."
The wind shifted, carrying the distant sound of temple bells.
He clicked the reins. Our horses began to move.
And so we rode—crimson and silver—toward the Emperor's wing.
——————————————————-
The Emperor's wing was nothing like the Falcon Wing. It stood at the edge of the palace, carved in white marble and crowned with gold that shimmered beneath the morning sun. Wide open arches lined the hall, letting in the crisp air and the distant sound of fountains. It felt less like a room and more like a sacred space between heaven and earth.
At the center stretched a long golden table, so polished it reflected the sunlight like water. Along its sides were matching golden benches, arranged to host nobles, generals, scholars—anyone permitted in the Emperor's presence.
The table overflowed with food—pomegranates split open like jewels, roasted meats glazed in honey, golden plates of rice and saffron, fruits soaked in sweet rosewater. It looked less like a meal and more like an offering to the gods.
At the far end stood his chair—not quite a throne, but grander and taller than all the rest. Behind it, towering almost to the ceiling, was a painted portrait of the Emperor. He wore pristine white royal robes, a crown of gold and diamonds heavy upon his brow. In one hand, he held a staff. In the other—a flame, painted so vividly I swore it flickered. His eyes in the portrait followed us, sharp and all-seeing.
Prince Khalid walked beside me in silence. I tried to calm my breathing as we approached our places. Servants whispered. Some stared at me, unsure if they should bow or cross themselves. I smelled of sacred oils and jasmine, like a garden in eternal spring.
My seat was near Prince Khalid's, close enough that I could see the Emperor's chair clearly. My heart thudded against my ribs like it wanted to escape. I kept my gaze low, but I could feel his painted eyes on me.
And then—
The great doors at the back of the hall opened.
"His Imperial Majesty…" the announcer called, voice echoing through the chamber.
The Emperor entered.
He wore black and deep sapphire robes, embroidered with gold that flashed under the morning light. His presence was heavier than the air. It felt like the earth itself bowed beneath his steps.
Behind him walked Amanirenas—draped in a teal and gold sari, jewels dripping from her waist and wrists like waterfalls of starlight. Her every step chimed from the chains at her ankles. She looked like something from a myth.
Everyone rose. I did too, though my knees trembled.
Calm down, Iana, I told myself, bowing my head so low my forehead nearly touched the table.
The Emperor took his seat. The room fell silent.
"You may sit," he said.
We obeyed.
He glanced around the table, smiling faintly at his brother, Prince Khalid. But when his eyes found mine—everything inside me stopped.
His irises shifted, for a heartbeat, from dark to a bright, unnatural blue. Like the color of magic. Or a warning.
Amanirenas saw it too. Her brows lifted—subtle, surprised.
But he said nothing. Did nothing. He simply looked away, as though I were nothing at all.
"Let us eat," he said.
Hands moved. Food was served. Conversations resumed.
But I sat frozen, tasting nothing, feeling everything.
Prince Khalid noticed I hadn't touched a thing. Without a word, he placed a single honeyed pastry on my plate—gentle, careful—as if reminding me to breathe.
Across the table, Emperor Khalfani raised his goblet and spoke, voice smooth like polished steel.
"Consider yourself blessed by the heavens, brother. It has not even been three days, and yet your wife-to-be glows like the morning sun."
His tone sounded playful, but something darker curled beneath it.
Prince Khalid managed a nervous smile.
"Well, they do say love brings out the best in someone."
"Love?" Khalfani scoffed lightly. "I enjoy being entertained by beautiful women, but you—" he leaned back, amused, "you astonish me."
Khalid only lifted the corner of his lips, refusing to answer.
Then the Emperor's attention shifted.
To me.
His gaze found mine like a mark struck by lightning.
"Tell me…" he began slowly. "Iana of Tan…"
The way he said my name—soft, precise—sent a chill dancing down my spine.
"Does supernatural beauty run in your family?" His eyes never left mine. "Because I cannot take my eyes off you. Parade around like this, and I might claim you for myself."
Silence.
The air turned to glass.
My tongue was frozen. No one spoke. Not even Prince Khalid.
And then—he laughed.
A rich, effortless laugh that melted the tension instantly. Others quickly followed, laughing only because he did.
"I'm only teasing you, brother," he said at last, clapping Khalid on the shoulder. The gesture looked friendly, but it held power. A reminder: I am still the one who decides everything here.
He drank his wine, wiped his mouth with a white cloth, and stood.
Chairs scraped back as everyone else stood too.
He turned to Khalid. "We will discuss the market in my study later."
Khalid nodded obediently.
But the Emperor was not finished.
He looked at me again.
"Iana."
He approached, unhurried, like a storm choosing where to strike. My pulse pounded in my ears.
He extended his hand. I hesitated—but gave him mine.
Slowly, he raised it to his lips.
The brush of his mouth against my skin was fire and ice and air all at once. My breath caught.
He held my gaze—intense, unreadable—before releasing me.
Then he walked away.
Leaving me standing there—burning,
confused, trembling.
Why did he choose to say nothing about last night? And why was I so concerned?
Something in me had changed.
And I knew—
Whatever this was…
It was only the beginning.