The air shimmered faintly in the corner of my chambers, and I instinctively braced myself. A low hum followed, resonating through the space like the toll of a distant bell as the familiar figure of Svlvain stepped through the portal. Her entrance was as seamless as ever—graceful, silent, and commanding.

"Little Light," she greeted, her dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that always made it feel as though she could see straight into my soul. Her black hair was braided intricately and fell over one shoulder. This time, she was in leather armor that gleamed faintly, a reminder that she was a dangerously powerful fae.

"Svlvain," I said, inclining my head. "I wasn’t expecting you until tonight."

She smirked, a sharp, knowing expression. "I missed you."

I exhaled, crossing my arms. "I was there only two days."

"Yes," she replied, pacing slowly. "But you really perked up Drak while you were there. It was a nice change. It wasn’t all brooding day and night. So, will we have an alliance?"

"My council has told me that I am not the ruler they need," I said flatly.

Sylvain stopped mid-step, her smirk faltering as her brows furrowed. “They said what?” Her tone was sharp, cutting through the still air like a blade.

I shrugged, feigning indifference, though my voice betrayed me. “That I’m not fit to lead. That I’m more of a… figurehead than a ruler. They dismissed the alliance without even considering it, and ultimately, they decided against me.”

Sylvain’s expression darkened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Fools,” she muttered under her breath, resuming her pacing. “They would rather cling to outdated traditions and blind hatred than entertain the notion of progress. Typical.”

I sank onto the edge of my bed, resting my head in my hands. “They’re not wrong, though. I can’t even get them to listen to me, let alone agree on something as monumental as an alliance. How am I supposed to lead when no one takes me seriously?”

Sylvain stopped and turned to me, her piercing gaze pinning me in place. “Ciara, leadership isn’t about convincing everyone to like you. It’s about making decisions that benefit your people, even when those decisions are unpopular. You have the vision they lack, the courage to consider the unthinkable. That’s more than I can say for most rulers.”

I looked up at her, a bitter laugh escaping me. “Vision and courage won’t mean much if I can’t back them up. An alliance with the dark fae could change everything, Sylvain. It could stop the bloodshed and protect our people. But without their support, it’s impossible.”

Sylvain’s expression softened slightly, though her tone remained firm. “Then stop asking for permission.”

Her words hung in the air, bold and dangerous. I swallowed hard, knowing she meant every syllable. “I can’t just force them into an alliance. That’s not how this works.”

“Who says?” Sylvain countered a glint of mischief in her eyes. She stepped closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “If you’re so desperate to unite our realms, there’s another way. A bolder way.”

I raised an eyebrow, unsure if I should be intrigued or terrified. “And what’s that?”

Her smirk returned, slow and deliberate. “Marriage.”

The word dropped like a stone into the silence of the room. I stared at her, stunned. “Marriage? You mean… between me and—”

“Why not Drakaris,” she finished smoothly, her smirk widening. “Think about it, Little Light. A union between the Queen of Light and the Dark Lord himself. It would bind our realms together in a way no treaty ever could.”

I stood abruptly, pacing now as the idea swirled in my mind. “That’s… absurd. Allyster would never allow it. My council would riot. And Drakaris—he’d laugh me out of the dark realm!”

Sylvain chuckled, crossing her arms as she leaned casually against the wall. “Oh, I don’t think he’d laugh. He might be surprised, sure, but he’s not one to dismiss an opportunity. And as for your council…” She waved a hand dismissively. “Let them riot. You said it yourself—they don’t see you as a real ruler. Maybe it’s time to show them otherwise.”

I stopped pacing, turning to face her. “And what about me? What if I don’t want to marry?”

Sylvain’s gaze softened, her smirk fading. “Then don’t. It’s your choice. But if you’re serious about this alliance, if you truly believe it’s what’s best for your people, you have to be willing to make sacrifices. That’s what it means to lead.”

Her words struck a chord, stirring something deep within me. I sank back onto the bed, my mind racing. The idea was preposterous, yet it made a strange kind of sense. A union between our realms would be unbreakable. It could end the centuries of animosity and forge a path to peace. But at what cost?

Sylvain perched herself up on the edge of the chaise in my chambers, inspecting her nails with casual interest as I paced the length of the room. Her presence, as always, was both comforting and maddening. She seemed utterly unbothered by the storm raging inside me.

I stopped mid-step and turned to her, sarcasm dripping from my voice. “So tell me, Sylvain, if I marry a dark fae, will I be remembered as the queen who united two realms or just the reckless fool who let love—or madness—dictate her reign?”

Sylvain didn’t look up immediately. “Reckless?” she repeated, her tone laced with amusement. “Maybe. Fool? Definitely not. A queen with guts? Absolutely.”

I folded my arms, raising an eyebrow. “That wasn’t exactly an answer.”

Sylvain leaned back, crossing her legs and tilting her head as she regarded me. “History remembers boldness, Little Light. People might call you reckless at the moment, but years from now, they’ll admire the courage it took to make such a move. Besides,” she added with a smirk, “there’s nothing wrong with being remembered as a little reckless. Keeps things interesting.”

I huffed. “Interesting? That’s what you’re going with? I’m not sure my council would agree.”

“Your council,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “wouldn’t recognize progress if it danced naked in front of them. You’re worried about their opinion, yet they’ve already dismissed you. Why not give them something worth gossiping about?”

“Something like marrying the Dark Lord,” I said dryly, rubbing my temples. “This is insane. Even if I considered it—which I’m not saying I am—how would I even approach him with this? ‘Oh, hello, Drakaris. Fancy a political marriage?’ I’d be laughed out of his realm.”

Sylvain chuckled, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh, I don’t think he’d laugh. As I said, he might tease you mercilessly, sure, but he wouldn’t dismiss you. He respects strength. And proposing something so audacious? That’s strength.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “This is absurd. I’d be walking straight into chaos.”

“Perhaps,” Sylvain said, her tone softening. “But isn’t that what you’ve been doing all along? You walked into the dark realm without a plan. You stood your ground with Drakaris, with me, with your council. You’re already carving a path through chaos. Why stop now?”

Her words settled over me, heavy but not unwelcome. I let out a long breath, lifting my head to meet her gaze. “And if it all falls apart? If the alliance fails, if I end up more of a figurehead than ever?”

Sylvain’s smirk softened into something almost resembling warmth. “Then you pick yourself up and try again. That’s what leaders do. And for what it’s worth, I think you’ll surprise everyone—including yourself.”

I stared at her, torn between frustration and gratitude. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

She grinned, leaning back with a self-satisfied shrug. “It’s one of my best qualities.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. The entire Light realm court would have a meltdown if they knew she was here, let alone talking politics with me. They could banish me if they decide I’m becoming too problematic. They’ve already taken away my title.

“There is another matter that would need to be addressed,” I finally said.

Svlvain arched an eyebrow. "Let me guess. The matter of your missing magic?"

"Exactly," I said bitterly, turning back to her. "They’ll argue that, according to our laws, I cannot marry because I haven’t come into my powers yet. Any union I form would risk incompatibility with a mate and jeopardize our magic's balance."

Svlvain studied me for a moment before speaking. "And what do you say to that?"

"I think it doesn’t matter in this situation," I snapped, my voice rising. "That law exists to ensure magical harmony, but this is about something greater. If there’s no compatibility, so be it. I’m willing to sacrifice if it means securing an alliance that could save both realms. Not to mention that I am 150. I’m not sure why I never got my powers in my first century, but I can’t sit idly by waiting for them to finally manifest."

Svlvain’s lips twitched into a faint smile. "You would defy a millennium of tradition."

"I would do whatever it takes to protect my people," I said, my voice steady despite the fire burning in my chest. "If that means breaking laws that no longer serve us, so be it. I will not let us fall because we clung to outdated customs while the world burned around us. I’ll do it. I will marry the Dark Lord himself if it means saving my people."

Svlvain regarded me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she inclined her head. "You are braver than I expected, Little Light. Extremely reckless, too, but bravery and recklessness often go hand in hand."

I hesitated. "And what about you, Svlvain? Do you think I’m being reckless?"

Her gaze softened just slightly. "I think you’re becoming a true queen. I will go speak with my lord about this and return later today."

Her words lingered in the air, heavy with truth.

I nodded, grateful for her support, however cautious it might be.

As Svlvain opened another portal, preparing to leave, she paused and glanced back at me. "One last thing. Once this alliance moves forward, be ready for more than resistance. Be ready for betrayal. Some wounds never heal."

Her warning echoed in my mind long after she disappeared, the faint shimmer of her portal fading into nothingness.

I clenched my fists, steeling myself. The road ahead was treacherous, and my council would fight me every step of the way. But I couldn’t turn back now. An alliance with the dark fae was the only way to defeat the cursed Lycans.

And if it meant defying my council and even my own fate, then so be it.