"The hardest battles are not fought on battlefields, but within the cage of your own chest."
Alaric's POV
Restlessness was a curse, and I had lived through wars, through nights where blood and steel were the only certainty, and never had I felt as unsettled as I did now. The weight of my crown, my council, my soldiers, none of it pressed half as hard as the bond in my chest. The damn thing pulsed like a second heartbeat, wild and erratic, every thrum whispering his name, Elias.
I tried chess. Marcus insisted it would calm my mind, the precision and patience of the game pulling me away from instinct. Fool that I was, I agreed. But now the board sat abandoned at the far end of the table in my private chamber, black and white armies locked mid-battle, my king exposed and laughing at me. I could not hold my attention on pawns when the truest game piece was at my borders.
