Amiya's Perspective:
The days in Selune dragged like they were meant to wear her down. Each one felt like an eternity, stretching the tension between the palace walls tighter and tighter. The royal court was a cesspool of fake smiles, insincere gestures, and calculated words. Political games were being played behind every velvet curtain, and everyone had their part to play. Her father? The goddamn puppet master. And she? Just another string being pulled to fit the shape he wanted her to take.
She had thought she could escape this life. She had fantasized about it for years—escaping the weight of expectations, of her family's desires for her. But now, with the marriage to Prince Leandros looming like a noose around her neck, Amiya could feel it all crumbling. She had been handed over to him like some fucking bargaining chip in a war she didn't even want to be a part of. No say. No choice. Just a simple decree, one her father had issued like it was a goddamn law of nature.
She clenched her jaw as she stood by her window, looking out over the city. The streets of Selune were bustling, full of life, people carrying on with their mundane routines. All while she was trapped in this fucking gilded cage, caught between duty and the suffocating need to escape.
Prince Leandros? A fucking stranger. A piece of the puzzle her father had chosen for her. No love, no respect. Nothing but an alliance that would strengthen the kingdom. The thought of marrying him made her stomach churn, and the fact that it was her father's will? That made it even worse. How could he just decide her future without a single word of care? Without even consulting her about it?
Her hand gripped the dagger at her side, the cold steel grounding her for a moment. She hadn't drawn it in ages, but the comforting weight of it was something she couldn't shake. The thought of just leaving, disappearing into the streets and never looking back… it wasn't just a fantasy anymore. It was an idea that was starting to feel possible. Maybe even necessary.
She wouldn't sit here and let this life swallow her whole. She wasn't some puppet. She wasn't going to be some pretty princess sitting on a shelf for display. She was so fucking done with playing the part. This was her life. And it was time she took it back.
But leaving the palace meant more than just running away. It meant abandoning her family, her title, her status. Everything she'd ever known. The thought made her stomach turn, but what else was she supposed to do? Stay here and let her life slip through her fingers? Stay in a marriage that wasn't hers to choose?
No. She'd rather die on her feet than live on her knees.
Amiya looked at herself in the mirror. The woman who stared back was a stranger. She looked so fucking tired. Her eyes were bloodshot from the lack of sleep. Her face was pale, drained. She had nothing left, not in the palace, not in the life she had been born into. But she had the dagger. And that made all the difference. She had control over something.
Everything was about to change. No more pretending. No more complying with her father's will. She was done. She would carve her own future, and if that meant breaking every rule in the goddamn book, then so be it.
Her fingers brushed the hilt of her dagger again, and she made up her mind. She wouldn't stay here. She wouldn't let them decide her fate. She was going to break free.
Sylas's Perspective:
Sylas moved through the city streets, his footsteps quick and silent. The winding alleys and twisting lanes of Selune were a maze, but he knew them like the back of his hand. The night air was thick with the scent of incense and burning oil, a familiar reminder that the kingdom never truly slept. It was a city of wealth, decadence, and rot—and he knew how to survive in it.
But tonight? Tonight wasn't about survival. It was about getting rid of the damn pendant. The job was done, the risk had been taken, and the item that had stolen more of his attention than it ever should have—was sitting in his pouch, heavy with guilt. It wasn't about the value of the pendant. It wasn't even about the money he'd earned. It was about the goddamn complication it had brought into his life.
And the woman who had come with it.
He cursed under his breath as he slipped deeper into the shadows of an alleyway, his mind running through the events from the other night like a broken record. She had caught him off guard, more than he cared to admit. The heist had been clean, the princess's pendant just another job to him—but then she appeared.
She was different. Not like the others he'd encountered in the palace. Her eyes had locked onto him, violet and sharp, like she was seeing right through him. That look? It fucked with his head. No one had ever looked at him that way—not even the people who had hired him. She saw something, some hidden piece of him, and it unsettled him in a way he couldn't explain.
He wasn't some goddamn prince or noble—he didn't play games of politics. He was a thief, a rogue who lived in the shadows. But that woman, with those eyes, had made him feel like a goddamn fool. She wasn't afraid. She wasn't panicked. She was calm. Too calm for someone who should've been terrified of him.
He pushed the thoughts aside. He didn't have time for that shit. The pendant was a problem. He needed to get rid of it. Sell it. Get the damn money and leave this place. He didn't need any more distractions. The city was full of them.
But the longer he walked, the more his thoughts lingered on her. Those eyes. Those goddamn eyes.
He gritted his teeth and quickened his pace, pulling the pendant out of his pouch. It was a fucking symbol of power—her power. And that was the last thing he needed in his life. The last thing he needed was to get tangled up in the politics of the royal family, to be dragged into their game of thrones.
He couldn't afford distractions, especially ones like her.
But that didn't stop the thoughts. Her face, her eyes—everything about her was a goddamn enigma. And for a thief like him, there was nothing more dangerous than an enigma.
But he couldn't let himself get distracted. He had a job to do. And after that job? He was gone. He'd vanish into the shadows like he always did.
Amiya's Plan:
Her mind wouldn't stop spinning, each thought a blur of what-ifs and how-tos. The plan was simple. Run. Leave. Never come back. But that wasn't enough to get her out. She needed to be smart. She needed to be quick. One misstep, one mistake, and everything she had worked for would crumble around her.
But tonight felt different. Tonight, the plan didn't seem impossible.
She knew she'd have to fight for her freedom, that every step she took would be a battle. She wasn't a fucking princess meant to sit in some high tower, waiting for a prince to come save her. She was more than that. She had power. She had control over her own destiny—and she'd be damned if she let anyone take that from her.
Amiya stood, her fingers still wrapped tightly around the hilt of her dagger, and she made a vow to herself. No matter what it took, no matter who she had to go through, she would get out of here. She would take back her life.
Tonight, everything would change. No more chains. No more expectations. She was taking the leap.