Imogen watched it all unfold from across the room.

  Malachite stood near the window, rigid and silent, her whole body strung tight like a drawn bow. She wasn’t listening to the battle plans anymore. She was watching Elise eyes cold, calculating, ready.

  Axel had started toward her. Imogen saw it the way his shoulders dropped, the way his expression softened. It wasn’t the face of a soldier. It was someone trying to reach someone they loved.

  But he didn’t make it.

  Because Elise, all silk and smiles, stepped cleanly into his path.

  She placed a delicate hand on his forearm, her tone syrupy sweet. “Come on, partner. Patrol rotation just started. Can’t keep the King waiting.”

  The word dripped from her lips like nectar turned poison.

  And then, all too casually she turned her head and looked at Darius. Her eyes lingered as they swept across him, slow and hungry.

  Not with duty.

  With want.

  Imogen’s jaw clenched.

  Axel stood there for a moment longer, torn. He glanced back at Malachite, still locked in that frozen fury but Elise was already walking away, her hand brushing his arm like a promise. One she never had the right to make.

  He followed her. The war room had thinned out.

  Elise and Axel were gone. The rest of the council had scattered off to their assignments. But Darius lingered, one hand resting on the edge of the table, the other gently brushing against Imogen’s lower back as she leaned over the southern map. Malachite stood across from them, arms folded, gaze locked on the marked breach points like they might start bleeding.

  “We’ve fortified the ridge,” Darius said, voice low. “But if they break through the southern gate, we won’t be able to hold the walls for long.”

  Malachite nodded once. “Then we move her before they get that far.”

  Imogen looked up sharply. “Move me? I’m not leaving-”

  “It’s not about leaving,” Malachite cut in, calm but firm. “It’s about surviving. And making sure you’re in a position to fight back. If they get through, you being cornered in a crumbling stronghold helps no one.”

  Darius placed a hand over hers. “No one’s trying to push you out. We just need contingencies.”

  Imogen exhaled slowly, nodding. “Fine. Where?”

  Malachite stepped forward and tapped a point on the map, a narrow forest path northeast of the cliffs. “There’s a cave system here. Abandoned forge tunnels. I used to train there when I needed to be alone.”

  Darius nodded in agreement. “They’re shielded. And there's only one way in, easy to defend if it comes to that.”

  “I can clear the path and make sure it’s still stable,” Malachite added. “If it is, that’ll be your fallback point.”

  Imogen leaned over the table, eyes scanning the escape route, jaw tight. “I hate this.”

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  “We all do,” Malachite said.

  “But we’ll be ready,” Darius added, his voice grounding her. “And no matter what happens, we don’t leave each other behind.”

  Imogen looked between them, the soldier and the king. Her family.

  Imogen looked up at Malachite. And Malachite was already looking at her.

  No words passed between them. Just that steady, silent exchange like a promise made long before the war ever started.

  Imogen’s expression softened. Malachite gave the smallest of nods.

  I’ve got you.

  I know.

  Darius glanced between them but didn’t interrupt. Whatever had passed between the two women didn’t need to be spoken aloud.

  As Malachite rolled up the map and gave a short nod, she turned toward the door. “I’ll check the tunnels. Give me an hour.”

  Imogen reached out, briefly catching her hand. “Be safe.”

  Malachite squeezed her fingers once firm, grounding then let go.

  “Always,” she said, and slipped out.

  The room fell into silence.

  The door clicked softly shut behind her, and for a moment, Imogen and Darius just stood there, the quiet stretching between them like a thread holding everything still.

  Darius stepped closer, his hand brushing against hers. “You okay?”

  Imogen let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “I don’t know. I want to say yes… but I feel like everything’s shifting under my feet again.”

  He gently turned her toward him, his hands settling on her waist. “You’re standing just fine to me.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes tired but shining. “I hate that we have to talk about escape plans and fallback routes instead of… what color the sky will be tomorrow.”

  His thumb brushed her hip. “Then tell me now.”

  “What?”

  He smiled. “What color do you want it to be?”

  Imogen blinked, then laughed soft and surprised. “Golden. With streaks of purple.”

  Darius leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. “Then that’s what it’ll be. After all this. I’ll give you skies in gold and violet.”

  Her fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt. “And if the sky falls?”

  “Then I’ll hold it up for you.”

  The silence returned but this time, it was warm.

  At least for now. Imogen turned to observe the maps in the growing silence and heard movement behind her.

  Darius dropped to one knee not because tradition demanded it, but because she deserved reverence.

  Because he chose this moment.

  “I love you,” he whispered. “In the calm. In the war. In the gods-damned silence. I love you in all of it. And if we make it through this,” his voice grew stronger, “I want to spend whatever we have left building something real. With you.”

  He held up his hand.

  The ring wasn’t flashy. It was elegant and raw, forged from silver dragonsteel, shaped with curves like wings folded mid-flight. In its center sat a peppered diamond, flecks of black and gray scattered like ash in ice, as if someone had captured a storm in stone.

  “It was my mother’s,” he said quietly. “She wore it when she chose my father. She told me when I found someone who made me stop running… I’d know.”

  Imogen’s hands flew to her mouth. She’s known him for so little time but everything in her pulled to him in this moment, like she finally understood what destiny meant. Her whole body felt as if their hearts were made for each other.

  Tears welled instantly, stinging at the corners of her eyes and before she could even form the word, she let out a half-sobbed laugh and tackled him to the floor.

  Darius grunted in surprise as she landed on top of him, both of them tangled in half a rug and breathless laughter.

  “Yes,” she said, wrapping her arms around him tighter. “Yes, you idiot. Of course I’ll marry you.”

  He laughed, arms wrapping around her as if to anchor the moment in place.

  Imogen pulled back, eyes shimmering and kissed him fiercely, like the world might fall apart but she’d still find him in the rubble. One hand in his hair, the other pressed to his heart.

  Darius kissed her back like a man who’d waited lifetimes.

  When they finally broke apart, foreheads pressed together, both of them smiling like fools.

  “I hope you know this means you're stuck with me,” she whispered.

  “I was hoping for nothing less,” he said. “Queen.”

  She grinned. “Husband.”