The castle of Nivara, imposing and dark, held within its walls a tense atmosphere, heavy with uncertainty and despair. The hallways, usually echoing with the voices of nobles and officials, stood deserted, as if the shadow of an ominous presage had settled into every corner. In Emperor Asier’s office, the air felt even heavier. The candlelight flickered, struggling to stay lit against the icy wind that slipped through the cracks of the tall windows. On a table covered with maps, reports, and documents, Asier stood surrounded by his advisors, nobles, and commanders, all gathered to discuss a matter that, if resolved incorrectly, could seal the fate of his kingdom.

  The nobles, dressed in their finest garments as if trying to maintain an appearance of normalcy amid the chaos, spoke in restrained whispers. Their voices barely disturbed the oppressive silence, yet the tension on their faces and the stiffness of their posture revealed the gravity of the situation. Some nervously played with their signet rings; others repeatedly smoothed their embroidered tunics—unconscious gestures that betrayed their unease.

  The news of Amara’s kidnapping had struck the empire with devastating force, like an earthquake that leaves destruction in its wake. Emperor Asier, known throughout the realm for his volatile temper and iron determination, showed clear signs of being on the brink of collapse. His hands, hardened by years of sword training, gripped the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. The veins in his neck stood out like taut ropes, and his deep, restrained breathing echoed through the room like the growl of a caged beast.

  Asier’s face was a map of conflicting emotions: anger burned in his eyes like glowing embers, while lines of worry furrowed his brow. His lips, pressed into a thin line, held back words of fury that threatened to erupt at any moment. The crown resting upon his head, a symbol of his power and authority, seemed heavier than ever, as if every gem embedded in it reminded him of his responsibility not only as emperor, but as husband and protector.

  “This is unacceptable!” Asier shouted, his voice slicing through the air like a sharpened blade. The nobles in the room fell silent at once, startled by their emperor’s fury. “Amara has been kidnapped, and we are still here debating whether or not to act! We must invade Aeloria immediately!”

  Baron Robert, the most experienced of the advisors, made an effort to calm the situation. He knew Asier was being driven by pain and rage, but he also understood that a rushed invasion could be fatal for Nivara.

  “My Emperor,” he intervened gently, trying to remain calm, “I understand your concern and your anger, but the preparations for war are not complete. We cannot simply throw ourselves at Aeloria without a proper plan. Aeloria’s forces are powerful, and we need time to gather our troops and secure our defensive lines.”

  Asier fixed his gaze on him, as if Robert’s words were a personal offense. His breathing quickened, his pulse rising as anger overtook every fiber of his being.

  “And what then, Robert?” his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, more frightening than his earlier shout. “Wait? Allow Anwar to keep playing with my wife’s life? Let every passing night be another torment for her?” His fist slammed into the table, sending several position markers flying across the maps. “Never! Aeloria has dared to insult Nivara, to steal our empress. What kind of man would we be if we were unwilling to go to war for her?”

  Asier struck his desk again, releasing a surge of his magic that caused half of the desk to disintegrate.

  The silence that followed was profound. The nobles exchanged nervous glances, some biting their lips, others frowning deeply. Asier’s gaze swept across the room, leaving tension in its wake. No one dared speak for a moment, fearing that a single wrong word might unleash the emperor’s fury. The weight of his presence was so overwhelming that even the boldest hesitated to intervene.

  It was then that Duke Lucas, a man of strong and steady character, stepped forward. His usually calm face showed a deep understanding of Asier’s pain and rage. He knew that while the emperor’s fury was understandable, rash decisions could have devastating consequences.

  “Emperor Asier,” Lucas said, his tone respectful yet firm, “I understand what you are feeling. I know how much you love Amara, and I know this pain consumes you. But we must act intelligently. If we launch an invasion without adequate resources, without the full support of our forces, we will not only lose the war—we will also endanger the life of the empress.”

  Asier stared at him, his face hardened by fury, but Lucas’s logic began to break through. Revenge and the need to rescue Amara consumed him, yet reason still fought for space within his mind.

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  “Then what do you propose?” the question came out as a tense, almost strangled whisper. Asier leaned heavily over the table, as if the weight of his armor and crown had suddenly multiplied. “Wait longer? Leave Amara in the hands of those Aelorian bastards while we… plan?”

  The last word left his lips like a curse, filled with bitterness and contempt. His knuckles whitened as his hands clenched into fists over the unfolded maps, crumpling the parchment that showed the borders between the two kingdoms.

  Lucas stepped forward again, coming closer to the emperor than anyone else had dared during the entire meeting. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across his face, emphasizing the gravity of his expression.

  “I am not asking you to wait in vain,” he replied, his voice firm yet compassionate. “Every moment we take will be invested in strengthening our position. The magical creatures of the north are on their way, our blacksmiths work day and night forging weapons, and our spies have already infiltrated the main cities of Aeloria.” His eyes shone with iron determination. “But if war is our only option—and it seems it is—we must ensure it is a war we can win. Not a desperate battle, but an absolute victory.”

  Asier clenched his teeth in rage, frustration threatening to burst forth. He could not bear to imagine Amara in Anwar’s hands for even another minute, yet Lucas’s words made sense. Still, pain and fury clouded his mind, offering no rest.

  “I don’t care about waiting,” he replied harshly. “What I will not do is sit by while Aeloria does whatever it wants with us. I will not be like my father, always willing to negotiate and give in. No. I will rescue Amara, no matter the cost. And if I have to destroy Aeloria to do it, then so be it.”

  Asier’s determination was absolute, and although Lucas and the other nobles knew they could not change his decision, the tension in the air was undeniable. The nobles slowly rose from their seats, knowing that war was inevitable. None dared openly challenge the emperor, but concern was etched across their faces. The invasion of Aeloria could be their end.

  With a severe look, Asier gave his final order.

  “I want no more excuses!” his voice echoed through the hall. “Prepare the troops immediately! Do whatever is necessary to bring them all together as soon as possible! We march on Aeloria without delay. No man or creature is to be left behind!”

  The nobles hurried from the room, aware that war was about to erupt. Uncertainty weighed heavily on their hearts, but Asier’s fury was undeniable. Duke Lucas and Nico, Asier’s personal assistant, were the last to remain with the emperor. Both knew that, although Asier had made an irreversible decision, he still needed support.

  Several hours later, Asier, still in his office, collapsed into his chair, exhausted and, for a brief moment, vulnerable. The weight of the situation crushed him, and his thoughts returned again and again to the moments before Amara’s kidnapping. He vividly remembered receiving the news—the horror he felt upon hearing that a suspicious carriage had departed for Aeloria with Amara inside, taken by force. How had he allowed this to happen? If only he had been with her, if only he had not gone to work that cursed day. Guilt consumed him.

  “If only I hadn’t let her go alone…” he murmured to himself, clenching his fists.

  It was Duke Lucas who interrupted his inner torment.

  “My lord, what happened was not your fault,” Lucas said softly, with a gentleness Asier had not expected. “Aeloria acted with treachery, and Amara, though in danger, is still alive. That is what matters now. And you will do everything possible to bring her back. That is what counts.”

  Asier looked up and met Lucas’s sincere gaze. For a moment, the weight on his chest eased slightly. He knew he was not alone.

  Before he could respond, Nico broke into the conversation.

  “My lord, we have managed to gather all the troops and magical creatures in time. They are nearly ready to depart,” Nico said firmly. “Preparations are in their final stage, but we must hurry. Time is against us.”

  Asier nodded with resolve. He knew he could not remain seated. The invasion had to begin.

  Suddenly, Marchioness Bárbara burst into the office, her face pale with terror. When she saw Asier, her eyes filled with tears, though she struggled to maintain her composure.

  “Is it true?” she asked in a broken voice. “Was Amara kidnapped?”

  Nico, looking at the marchioness seriously, nodded.

  “Yes. The emperor is organizing the invasion to rescue her. We depart today.”

  Bárbara could not hold back her tears. Despite her usual strength, fear for her friend and the desperation of being unable to help overwhelmed her.

  “Emperor, please,” she said, trying to control her sobs, “save her. No matter what happens, do not let anything stop your mission.”

  Asier looked at her, his eyes blazing with fury and determination.

  “I will,” he replied firmly, his sword gleaming at his side. “I promise. And when this is over, Aeloria will never forget the price they will pay for touching what is ours.”

  The invasion had begun.