One day after Veyra fell, Aiden cleared the grand spire of everyone except Elizabeth. The crystal-veined command chamber sat at the top of the citadel, its wide windows looking out over the smoking ruins of the capital and the distant kingdoms still untouched.
Maps covered the massive obsidian table. No harem members. No generals. Just the two of them.
Aiden sat on the throne carved from black stone, legs spread. Elizabeth stood across from him in a simple dark robe, hair pinned back, eyes sharp.
She had already proven herself the sharpest mind in his growing empire. Today he would test how deep that alignment went.
"Show me the board," he said.
She unrolled the main continent map and weighted the corners. "Church remnants in the north still hold three major fortresses. Their inquisitors are scattered but reforming.
