Goldenheart001

"When will you stop hunting your fellow beings? "Your mind has been poisoned, you are being fed lies, you have been bred to despise us, you know nothing about us, and you are all born as warriors to hunt us. We do bleed the same blood you shed.When are you going to wake up and realize that we are bleeding and dying while telling you that we won't use our power against you? and stop... stumbling... through the dark!"

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" ah, you commoner! My beloved people, you were made for battle, you were made to be warriors, and you were made to stand up for and save the weakest among us! We have been eradicating Alakijon the beast's tribe for thousands of years. They steal from and kill our people, using our blood to prolong their immortal souls and destroy our land. They are beasts; they killed our Mighty king and set us on fire. Our people are dying of retaliation. Wake up, people. "Prince Rogba said

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*** MATURE CONTENT***
warning


After the enchanting and lingering kiss, Prince Rogba leaned back slightly, their lips barely grazing. The steamy puffs of their breaths intertwined as her intoxicated eyes slowly opened. But before his radiant face could come into focus in her hazy vision, his tongue found its way back into her mouth. Another deep, impassioned kiss followed, raw and electrifying. He continued to explore, savor, and caress the depths of her mouth, as if he couldn't quench his thirst for her.

As he indulged in her lips, Arẹwa was overwhelmed by an indescribable pleasure, a sensation that threatened to consume her senses. A warmth, both fiery and sweet, started to swell within her breast, stomach, and between her thighs.

A gentle moan escaped her lips, and her trembling hands moved instinctively, resting delicately against his bare chest. A contented rumble emanated from Rogba's throat, and suddenly his mouth was on her jawline. He kissed and nibbled along her jaw, gradually tracing down the curve of her neck, tasting her as though she were something celestial. The pleasure was so intense that Arẹwa could only writhe in response.

The exquisite and fiery sensation coursing down her bosom intensified suddenly. When he sucked on the sensitive skin of her neck with fervor, she shivered, feeling as though electric currents were coursing through her entire body. Prince Rogba, unable to hold back any longer, slowly removed her dress, leaving her half-naked as they sank onto the bed.

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" come here.. come here... towards me Ida's clan heiress, your body is weak I didn't think you could complete this mission... look towards the darkness.. it's a spirit realms..go go in..." she said commanding
" no! no!! no!!! some one help!!!." Arẹwa call for helps

Fractured Alliances: Betrayal and Love  in the Shadows of War

Today marked the final judgment of the Archduke of the North. The anticipation hung in the air, thick with tension, as the kingdom awaited the prophesied moment. The grand hall was brimming with courtiers, each eye fixed on the prophetess as she stepped forward, offering greetings to the King of the Silver Throne.


"Greetings to the king," her voice resonated through the hall. "Here is my evidence."


The Archduke's bodyguard was seized, his stoic facade giving way to vulnerability. "Talk!" the prophetess commanded. But before he could utter a word, he collapsed, and the imperial physician rushed forward, confirming his demise.


As the lifeless body was swiftly taken away, the hall descended into a hushed silence. The King of the Silver Throne stood, his eyes piercing through the dimness of the hall. "As of this moment," he declared, "I shall issue my orders."


All ears were attuned to his words, each syllable carrying the weight of destiny. "The general will oversee the interrogation," he continued, "the Archduke will be dethroned, and I will announce the new Archduke of the North."


The crowd stirred, whispers and murmurs creating a symphony of uncertainty. The King's gaze swept across the assembly, every subject in his kingdom contemplating the ramifications of this judgment.


"All subjects may return home to reunite with their people," the King proclaimed, his voice resonating with authority. "However, the former Archduke shall be sent to the cold castle, where hope for life is but a distant memory. He shall not see the world again until we convene on this matter."


With a finality that echoed in the hearts of all present, the King departed, leaving the hall in a state of both awe and trepidation.


"Whaoh, what a tragic existence. I've heard you have no heir to carry forth your legacy,," remarked the head of Ida's clan, a sardonic smile playing on his lips.


The Archduke's eyes blazed with defiance, his voice firm, "This is only the beginning!"


As the guards dragged him away, the shadows seemed to elongate, swallowing the hall in darkness. Whispers of clandestine conversations, promises of revenge, and alliances formed in secrecy swirled through the air, foretelling a storm on the horizon.


The fate of the North now hung in the balance, a precarious equilibrium on the verge of collapse. .


Chapter 46: "The Last Judgment of the Archduke"