The following days felt like a blur. Every time Amina closed her eyes, the flame called to her, its warmth seeping into her dreams like a distant memory. It wasn't just the magic that had awakened—it was the realization that her entire world was changing. Her betrothal to Prince Aric, once a distant formality, now felt like a looming shadow, one she couldn't escape.
The palace was quieter than usual, the halls filled with whispers that Amina couldn't quite place. She had become a subject of intrigue—her powers, her future, the marriage that would unite two kingdoms, all of it was fodder for hushed conversations. But the greatest weight lay within her, the pulsing heat in her veins that had not diminished, only grown stronger.
She sat alone in her private chambers, her fingers resting lightly against the cold stone windowsill. Outside, the storm clouds had rolled in, dark and foreboding. It was almost as though the heavens themselves were mirroring the turmoil within her.
Amina closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to center herself. Focus, she told herself. I have to control it.
But no matter how hard she tried, the flame within her refused to be tamed. It had always been a quiet thing, a part of her bloodline, a secret passed down through generations. Her ancestors had spoken of it in riddles, of the power that could both create and destroy. But now that it had fully awakened, Amina realized there was no instruction manual, no guide on how to harness it. And she feared, above all else, what might happen if she couldn't control it.
A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.
"Amina?" Aric's voice was low, but it carried through the thick wooden door, clear as day. "May I come in?"
She straightened, her hand instinctively moving to her side where she could almost feel the flame flicker, as if it recognized his presence.
"Of course," she replied, her voice betraying none of the turmoil she felt inside.
The door creaked open, and Aric stepped into the room, his expression more serious than she had ever seen it. His usual easy confidence was replaced by a quiet determination, his blue eyes scanning her face, as though trying to read something she wasn't ready to reveal.
"You've been avoiding me," he said softly, his gaze never leaving hers.
Amina hesitated. "I haven't been avoiding you, Aric. I've just... been busy."
"Busy?" he repeated with a half-smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "With what? With trying to suppress something that you can't hide from me?"
Her heart skipped a beat, but she refused to show any vulnerability. "There's nothing to hide."
"You're lying," Aric said, his voice gentler now. He walked closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming. "Amina, I've seen the way you look at your hands, the way you flinch when the fire surges. I know something's wrong."
Amina stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. Her pulse raced, her hands shaking at her sides. "I don't want to talk about it."
Aric took a step forward, his voice calm but firm. "Then let me help you."
She turned away, her back to him, but his voice followed her, quiet and persistent.
"I know what you're feeling. That fear... it's something I understand. When I was younger, I was afraid of the crown I was meant to wear. Afraid of the burden it would place on me. But I learned that the only way to conquer that fear is to face it."
Amina's breath hitched. She could feel the warmth in the air, the tension building between them. She didn't want to let him in, didn't want to reveal her weakness. But his words, his presence, they were like a balm to the growing fire inside her.
"I don't want to hurt anyone," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don't know how to control it."
Aric took another step forward, his hand reaching out as if to comfort her. "You don't have to do it alone, Amina. Whatever power lies within you, we can find a way to control it. Together."
Her pulse quickened at his words, but she pulled away, the flame inside her stirring in response. "You don't understand," she said harshly, the heat rising within her. "This power... it's not something you can fix. It's something that will consume me."
For a long moment, there was silence. Then, slowly, Aric spoke, his voice steady and unwavering. "Then we'll find a way to keep it from consuming you."
Amina turned to face him, her chest heaving with the weight of her emotions. "You don't know what you're asking. This flame... it's tied to my bloodline. It's ancient and dangerous. If I can't control it, it could destroy everything."
Aric didn't flinch. His eyes remained locked on hers, resolute. "I don't care what it is, Amina. I care about you. And I will help you control it. We'll figure this out, together."
The sincerity in his voice struck something deep inside her, a flicker of hope amidst the overwhelming fear. But Amina wasn't ready to trust him—wasn't ready to trust anyone with this power. Not yet.
"Thank you," she said, though her voice was barely above a whisper. "But I need time. Time to understand what's happening to me."
Aric nodded, his gaze softening. "I'll give you all the time you need. But remember, Amina, I'm here whenever you're ready."
As he turned to leave, Amina remained by the window, her eyes once again drawn to the storm outside. The rain had begun to fall in heavy sheets, pounding against the stone walls of the palace.
The storm within her, however, was far from over.