Chapter 35

The fortress was restless, the corridors buzzing with whispers of rebellion, tension filling the air like an electric storm about to break. Tharx's empire was teetering on the edge, with the council's loyalty fracturing, old alliances crumbling under the weight of rising suspicions, and new factions emerging that openly questioned his rule. Draxis had sown discord deftly, planting seeds of doubt that had grown into a full-scale political crisis. Tharx had tried to contain it, but now, open confrontations were breaking out between his own advisors, fueling the fires of unrest.

In the council chambers, tempers flared, the room filled with heated voices as rival factions clashed. Tharx sat at the head of the table, his expression as cold and impassive as ice, watching as his council members turned on each other, each side fighting to be heard.

"The people are calling for change, Tharx," one advisor said, his voice rising above the clamor. "They see your inaction as weakness. If you don't address their concerns, you risk losing their loyalty altogether."

Another advisor scoffed. "Weakness? Tharx has held this empire together through countless challenges. This discontent is nothing more than Draxis's manipulations."

"You mean to say Draxis has no valid points?" a third council member interrupted, her eyes flashing with defiance. "This council has become stagnant, clinging to old power structures while the world around us shifts. Perhaps the people are right to question."

Tharx's patience snapped, his voice cutting through the argument with a tone as sharp as steel. "Enough. This council's purpose is to advise, not bicker like fools over shadows. I will not have my authority questioned."

But he could see the doubt etched into their faces, and worse, the simmering resentment of those who felt unheard. It had come to this: his empire, once united, was now splintering beneath the weight of whispers and suspicion. Tharx knew Draxis was behind it, working from the shadows, but the very structure of his empire had been shaken to its core, and he had no choice but to meet this threat with ruthless resolve.

In the weeks that followed, Tharx's demeanor grew even colder, his actions harsher. Every ounce of warmth he had once shown was locked away, replaced by a steel resolve that brooked no dissent. He began clamping down on suspected Draxis sympathizers, ordering arrests, confining them to the fortress dungeons, and stripping advisors of their influence if they dared to question his decisions. The harsher he became, the more divided his council grew, and yet he could not bring himself to relent. The idea of weakness-even a hint of it-was intolerable.

With each decision, he became more isolated, his loyalists wary of speaking their minds, his enemies growing bolder by the day. And as he descended further into isolation, his thoughts inevitably returned to Aeliana.

He had confined her out of necessity, convinced it would protect her from the growing threat. But now, the distance between them felt like a wound that refused to heal. His moments of hesitation, of vulnerability-these had become rare, hidden behind layers of cold calculation, but they existed. Even he could not deny the hollow ache that gnawed at him, the quiet realization that the rift between them was growing too wide to bridge.

In her chambers, Aeliana felt the weight of her confinement more acutely than ever. She had heard of the recent crackdowns, of Tharx's newfound ruthlessness, and each report only deepened the ache in her chest. She had once seen him as strong, unyielding, but now that strength had become a cold detachment that shut her out completely. She had waited, hoping that he might seek her out, that he would offer an explanation, or at least a sign that she hadn't been forgotten. But his silence was deafening, each day slipping by without a word.

Her frustration and heartbreak reached a breaking point, her mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions-anger, sadness, and a lingering betrayal that ate away at her. She had dared to believe that she mattered to him, that they shared something real. But now, confined and alone, she was forced to confront the bitter truth: she was as much a pawn to him as she was to anyone else.

She couldn't wait for him any longer. If he wouldn't protect her, she would have to protect herself. She had been passive, hoping that Tharx would come to her aid, but her patience had run dry.

Aeliana began to plan her escape, considering every detail, every potential ally she might find among the guards and servants. She knew it wouldn't be easy-Tharx's fortress was vast, heavily guarded, and designed to keep outsiders from leaving. But she also knew that her survival depended on finding a way out. She couldn't allow herself to be locked away, discarded at the whim of a king who seemed to have forgotten she existed.

She started observing the guards who brought her meals, noting their routines, the moments when security seemed lax. The guards rarely spoke to her, but she could see the hints of sympathy in their glances, the faintest signs that they might not be as loyal to Tharx as they appeared. If she could earn their trust, perhaps she could persuade one of them to help her.

Her resolve grew stronger with each passing day, her desperation feeding her determination. She would find a way out, even if it meant risking everything. The fortress that had once seemed like a place of safety now felt like a cage, one that she was ready to break free from.

But before she could fully implement her plan, Tharx appeared at her door once again. His expression was as cold as ever, his demeanor that of a king addressing a mere subordinate, yet there was something else in his eyes-a flicker of something he quickly masked.

Aeliana held herself steady, her anger barely restrained as she looked up at him. She didn't offer a greeting, and he made no attempt at small talk. He simply stood there, the silence between them thick and heavy.

"I have come to ensure your safety," he began, his voice devoid of warmth.

"My safety?" she replied, her tone cutting. "Is that what this is? Locking me away in this room, keeping me in the dark, while you play at being a ruler without even acknowledging what I am to you?"

Tharx's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond.

"You say it's for my protection," she continued, her voice rising. "But I can't help but wonder if this isn't just about your pride, your inability to admit that you might actually care for someone other than yourself."

Tharx's eyes flashed with anger. "Do not presume to know my reasons, Aeliana. You are here because I need to keep you safe."

"Safe from what?" she demanded. "From Draxis? Or from your own fear of appearing vulnerable?"

His fists clenched at his sides, his control visibly slipping. "I have a kingdom to protect. I don't have the luxury of weakness."

"And what am I to you, then?" she pressed, stepping closer. "An inconvenience? A threat to your precious reputation?"

His gaze faltered for just a second, but it was enough. She could see the struggle in his eyes, the war waging within him, and for a brief moment, she thought he might actually let her in.

But then his mask slipped back into place, his expression hardening. "You are here because it is necessary. Nothing more."

The words struck her like a blow, and she felt her resolve solidify. Whatever connection they'd shared was as good as broken, and she couldn't stay here, hoping for some sliver of warmth or understanding. Tharx had made his choice, and now she had to make hers.

As Tharx left her quarters, his mind was a storm of conflicting thoughts. He couldn't deny the pull he felt toward her, nor could he ignore the effect her words had on him. But he had been raised to value strength above all else, to rule without hesitation, and he could not afford to let himself be swayed by emotions he couldn't afford.

Just as he was about to return to his chambers, one of his scouts approached, face tense and urgent. "My lord, we've received word that Draxis's forces are moving. They've mobilized and are advancing toward our borders."

Tharx's eyes darkened. He had expected an attack, but this was faster than anticipated. His empire, already strained from within, was now facing the threat of full-scale invasion. There was no more time for hesitation, no more room for doubt.

"Prepare the fortress defenses," he ordered, his voice cold and resolute. "We cannot allow Draxis to breach our walls."

But even as he issued his orders, a quiet thought crept into his mind-a whisper of doubt that he couldn't quite shake. The fractures within his empire, his council's divided loyalties, the doubts festering within his own heart-they had left him vulnerable, and he knew it.

And as the first signals of war sounded in the distance, he couldn't help but wonder if he had already lost more than he could ever hope to reclaim.