Chapter 73

Aeliana stood at the edge of the training grounds, the sharp scent of steel and sweat filling the air around her. She watched as warriors moved in synchronized formations, their blades gleaming under the relentless sun. The sound of clashing weapons echoed against the stone walls of the barracks, each strike reverberating like a battle drum.

This was where she belonged.

Not in the palace halls, suffocating under the weight of whispered judgments. Not in court sessions, surrounded by nobles who measured power by bloodlines instead of skill. Here, in the heart of discipline and violence, she could command, shape, and lead.

She wasn't just Tharx's wife, his consort, the woman who had survived and conquered beside him. She was a ruler in her own right, and she would carve that truth into the empire itself.

Tharx had his warriors-men who had fought at his side for years, whose loyalty had been earned through blood and conquest. But Aeliana had built something different.

She had taken the best fighters, not from noble families, but from the empire's ranks of hardened soldiers, former rebels, outcasts who had once been overlooked. They were not men of birthright, but men and women who had earned their place through sheer will.

And today, she would show them exactly who she was.

Vaelkor stood beside her, his arms crossed, his face carved in the same expression of skepticism he had worn since she had begun this endeavor.

"They're strong," he admitted, nodding toward the warriors in the courtyard. "But they're still waiting for you to fail."

Aeliana's mouth curved into a smirk. "Then let's not disappoint them."

She strode forward, drawing the attention of the soldiers, their movements slowing as they noticed her presence. Some immediately straightened, adjusting their stances in respect, while others merely watched-waiting, testing.

She could feel the weight of their judgment.

She would shatter it.

Aeliana stepped into the center of the training ring and turned to face them. "Who among you believes I should not be here?" she asked, her voice carrying effortlessly across the open air.

Silence. A ripple of uncertainty. No one moved at first.

Then, a man stepped forward.

Dain. A high-ranking officer, noble-born, trained since childhood to wield a sword. He was broad-shouldered, arrogant in the way he carried himself.

"My Queen," he said, inclining his head, his voice careful but edged with amusement. "This is no place for royal garments and delicate hands."

Aeliana cocked her head, stepping toward him, unbothered by his words. "Is that what you see when you look at me? Delicate?"

Dain hesitated. The courtyard was deathly quiet.

She reached for the training sword at her hip and tossed it at his feet. "Pick it up."

His gaze flicked down, then back to her, wary now.

Aeliana smiled, slow and sharp. "You question my right to be here. Prove me unworthy."

Dain bent down, retrieving the sword. A murmur rippled through the crowd, excitement and tension thick in the air. He gave a small, theatrical sigh, as if indulging a child, and stepped into the ring.

The moment he lifted his weapon, Aeliana moved.

There was no hesitation, no warning. She struck fast, forcing him onto the defensive immediately. He barely had time to react before she spun, her foot sweeping his leg from under him.

Dain hit the ground hard.

Gasps sounded around them.

Aeliana didn't pause. She pressed the training sword to his throat, her knee pinning his chest to the dirt. Her voice was quiet but absolute.

"If you ever question my place again, I will not use a training blade."

Dain swallowed. "Yes, my Queen."

Aeliana rose, tossing her sword aside. The gathered warriors bowed their heads-not out of submission, but in recognition.

She had won them.

The whispers spread quickly.

The queen was not just a ruler. She was a warrior.

Within days, the dynamics in the barracks had shifted. No longer was Aeliana seen as the emperor's consort, the woman who had married into power.

She was the empire's blade.

The training intensified. She oversaw the restructuring of the military's defenses, implementing new strategies for fortification, ensuring that the empire would never again be vulnerable to rebellion, to treachery, to anything but its own strength.

She spent more time in the training grounds than in the court, something that set tongues wagging but commanded respect.

Even the nobles-those who had once dismissed her-began to watch more closely.

They might have despised her rise, but they could no longer deny it.

That night, she returned to her chambers to find Tharx waiting for her.

He was leaning against the balcony railing, watching the city below. He had removed his ceremonial robes, leaving him in loose black trousers, his chest bare under the dim candlelight.

Aeliana shut the door behind her, already feeling the exhaustion creeping into her limbs. "You're waiting for me?"

Tharx turned, his golden eyes flicking over her with something unreadable-something bordering on satisfaction.

"You made quite the impression today," he murmured.

She smirked, peeling off her training leathers. "Jealous?"

He pushed off the railing, closing the space between them in a few slow steps. "Proud."

Aeliana raised a brow. "Proud?"

Tharx traced his fingers over the bruises on her arms, his touch featherlight but firm. "You're shaping the empire in ways even I could not."

There was no mockery in his voice. No arrogance. Just truth.

She tilted her head. "Are you admitting I'm better than you?"

Tharx smirked. "Never."

Aeliana rolled her eyes, turning away. "Then what is it?"

He reached for her wrist, pulling her back against him, their bodies pressed flush together. His breath was warm against her skin.

"You are not just my queen," he murmured, his voice low, reverent. "You are my equal."

The words settled deep in her chest, unexpected and overwhelming.

For so long, Aeliana had fought to prove herself-not just to the court, not just to the empire, but to herself. To hear it from him, to know that he saw her as more than his consort, more than his conquest-

It unraveled something inside her.

She reached up, threading her fingers into his hair, pulling him down into a kiss that was not just hunger, but understanding.

When they finally broke apart, she whispered against his lips, "Then let's rule like it."

Tharx smiled against her mouth, his grip tightening on her waist.

"We already are."