📖 POV – The Boy
My boots felt like iron as I stepped forward. The line of her guards parted just enough for me to pass, though their stares threatened to cut me down if I made a wrong move.
The convoy door opened slowly.
And then she emerged.
Amara Blackwood.
She wasn't draped in jewels or flaunting power. No, her presence was heavier than gold — it was authority made flesh. Her eyes, sharp as glass and deep as midnight, locked on me. I felt them strip away my rank, my uniform, even my skin.
I dropped to one knee, fists clenched. "Your Majesty."
"Stand," she said. Her voice was silk over steel.
I rose, trembling slightly, yet I forced myself to meet her gaze.
"You delayed my convoy," she continued, not with anger, but with curiosity. "Why?"
My throat went dry. One mistake and I could be finished. But I remembered Soren's words drilled into every soldier: BAM does not kneel to fear, only to law.
"By protocol, Majesty," I said firmly, "this road is under BAM patrol jurisdiction. Clearance is required for passage… even for the crown."
The guards around her bristled. One hissed, "Insolence!" His hand twitched toward his blade.
Amara lifted a single hand, and silence fell.
Her gaze lingered on me, longer than was comfortable. Then, to everyone's shock, her lips curved slightly.
"You've been well-trained."
My chest loosened, but only slightly.
She stepped closer, her perfume a strange mixture of danger and warmth. "What is your name, soldier?"
I hesitated. Names were stripped in the empire. Only numbers remained. But to deny her question would be disrespect.
"My number is 347, Majesty," I replied carefully.
Her eyes narrowed faintly. "No," she whispered, almost to herself. "That's what they call you. I asked for your name."
The world tilted. My men looked confused. Even her guards exchanged nervous glances. The Queen never spoke like this to anyone outside the inner circle.
I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to answer. My father's voice echoed in my head: Never forget who you are, even if the world forces you to forget.
"…Daniel," I breathed.
For the first time, Amara's expression shifted — not pity, not contempt, but recognition.
"Daniel," she repeated softly, as though testing the sound of it.
The air was charged. My men stood frozen. Her guards waited for her order. And I… I realized this meeting was no accident.
Her eyes flicked toward the horizon, then back to me. "Tell your commander this: the Queen passed through this road not by force, but by respect. And she expects Daniel to remember this day."
Then she turned, stepping back into her convoy as if nothing had happened.
Engines roared to life. Dust swallowed the road. And just like that, she was gone.
But my world had changed forever.
—