Years passed like whispers in the wind, and under the moon's watchful eye, Zaria transformed. She was no longer the delicate princess hidden behind silk and gold—she was a warrior. Each night, Queen Nyasha pushed her harder, teaching her the art of battle, strategy, and the unspoken language of war.
By the time she turned sixteen, she could strike as swiftly as a leopard and move as silently as the wind. Yet, the greatest lesson her mother taught her was not how to fight—but when to fight.
"A true ruler does not draw her sword out of anger," her mother had said one night, her golden jewelry glinting in the torchlight. "She wields it only when necessary, and when she does, the world must tremble."
Zaria took those words to heart, but she never imagined she would be forced to prove them so soon.
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The palace was restless. Something was wrong.
Zaria felt it in the way the guards moved, in the way the servants whispered behind their hands. She sensed it in her father's tense expression as he stood in the great hall, surrounded by his war generals.
She stepped forward, dressed in a flowing crimson robe, her golden jewelry heavy around her neck. "Father," she said cautiously, "what has happened?"
King Obade turned to her, his sharp gaze unreadable. "A traitor sits among us."
Murmurs rippled through the chamber. Zaria's heart pounded.
"A traitor?" she repeated. "Who?"
Before the king could answer, the doors burst open, and a man was dragged inside by two guards. His clothes were torn, blood smeared across his face. Zaria's breath caught in her throat.
It was General Baku.
The man who had trained her brothers. The man she had watched in awe all those years ago. The strongest warrior in the kingdom.
"Kneel before your king!" one of the guards barked, shoving Baku forward. He fell to his knees but lifted his chin, unbroken.
King Obade's voice was like thunder. "You have betrayed Zambura, Baku. You conspired with our enemies and plotted against the throne."
Zaria's stomach twisted. She didn't want to believe it. "That cannot be true," she blurted out.
Baku's dark eyes met hers. There was no fear in them, only regret. "Princess," he said softly, "there is much you do not know."
The king's jaw tightened. "Enough! His fate is sealed." He turned to the guards. "Execute him at dawn."
Zaria clenched her fists. Something felt wrong. Her father was not a cruel man, but this… this did not feel like justice.
She locked eyes with Baku one last time. He was not pleading for mercy. He was pleading for her to see the truth.
And for the first time in her life, Zaria realized that being a ruler meant making choices that could change the course of history.
Even if it meant defying the very throne she was meant to inherit.
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