Revelation in the shadows.

"You're going to get yourself killed one day with that curiosity of yours," Rhys muttered.

Amara looked up at him, her expression conflicted. "Maybe," she said softly. "But sometimes, curiosity is the only way to find the truth."

" For what...?!"

Rhys shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "You're impossible," he said.

" You don't understand!!."

The dungeon walls seemed to close in as Amara's voice, sharp and desperate, echoed off the stone. Her face was flushed with emotion, her hands trembling. 

"I mean, sorry, but you need to understand me. My family has believed in myths, the ancient history of this land for generations. It's not just some hobby." She took a deep breath.

" It's in my blood." 

She continued " I grew up surrounded by these stories, these truths. And this pendant, my family believed it holds power, a connection to the Firelands." Amara sighed after explaining for so long. She looked up to meet his eyes but, Rhys crossed his arms, his expression caught somewhere between exasperation and curiosity. "Amara..." he began, his voice low, trying to calm her down, but she cut him off.

"When I tell you something, understand that I'm not some delusional historian nerd chasing fairy tales," she shouted, her tone laced with frustration. "I know what I felt back there." She said with determination.

"She's pregnant. And if you don't believe me, then check it out yourself. Bring a doctor. Do whatever you need to do."

Rhys opened his mouth to respond, rubbing his hand over his face as if trying to process the whirlwind she had unleashed. "What? How...?" he began, his brow furrowed. "Bring a doctor? And for what then? Even if what you're saying is true—"

Before Rhys could finish, a voice interrupted their heated exchange, cutting through the tension like a blade.

"A doctor?" the voice drawled, dripping with amusement and condescension.

Both Rhys and Amara froze. The sound of boots echoed against the stone floor, each step deliberate and measured. Amara's heart sank as she turned to see the prince standing at the entrance to the dungeon, his arms crossed and a smug smirk curling on his lips.

"What is this?" the prince asked, his voice cool and sharp. His gaze shifted from Rhys to Amara, lingering on her with disdain. "And how, may I ask, is this lady here? What exactly is she doing in my dungeon?"

Amara swallowed hard, her face paling. She could feel the heat of his gaze, the weight of his authority pressing down on her. Rhys stepped forward, his stance protective as he positioned himself slightly between Amara and the prince.

"Your Highness," Rhys began, his tone steady but laced with a hint of irritation. "She was curious about the beast. That's all. I was keeping an eye on her."

The prince raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Curious?" he repeated, as though tasting the word. His gaze locked on Amara, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. "Curiosity is a dangerous thing, especially for someone like you. What were you hoping to find, hmm? Some grand revelation about our prized beast?"

Amara clenched her fists, summoning what little courage she had left. "I wasn't doing anything wrong," she said, her voice firm despite the tremor in her hands. "I'm a historian."

"So....?." The prince chuckled, the sound cold and mocking. "A historian," he said, as though the word itself were a joke. "And what great discovery have you made tonight, scholar? Please, enlighten us."

Rhys's jaw tightened, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Your Highness, this isn't the time—"

The prince held up a hand, silencing him. "No, let her speak," he said, his gaze never leaving Amara. "If she has something so important to say, let her say it."

Amara hesitated, her heart pounding. She glanced at Rhys, who gave her a barely perceptible nod, his expression urging her to tread carefully.

She took a deep breath. "The beast," she said, her voice steady despite the weight of the prince's scrutiny. "It's not just a beast. And..." she trailed off as if doubting the words she had to tell. 

" It's pregnant." She finally spoke.

The prince blinked, his smirk faltering for a fraction of a second before returning in full force. He laughed, the sound echoing harshly in the confined space. "Pregnant?" he repeated, his tone dripping with disbelief and ridicule. "And how, exactly, did you come to this brilliant conclusion?"

"I felt it," Amara said, her eyes piercing through prince's deliberately.

The prince's laughter died down, replaced by a look of cold amusement. He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. "You just know?" he said, his voice low and menacing. "What nonsense is this? Are you trying to make a fool of me, scholar?"

"That's enough," Rhys interjected, his voice sharp. He entirely couldn't understand amara but he wanted to challenge the prince. He said "If you don't believe her, then bring a doctor. Have it checked."

The prince's eyes flicked to Rhys, his expression in disbelief. For a moment, he caught Rhys's intentions . He stepped back, a smirk tagging to his lips.

"Very well," he said, his tone light but with an edge of sarcasm. "If it will satisfy your little scholar, I'll consider it. But don't think for a second that this changes anything."

He turned on his heel, his cloak sweeping dramatically behind him as he strode out of the dungeon. The sound of his boots echoed until it faded into silence.

Amara let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, her shoulders slumping. Rhys turned to her, his expression a mix of concern and frustration.

"You really don't know when to stop, do you?" he said, though there was a hint of admiration in his voice.

Amara looked up at him, her eyes filled with determination. "I can't stop," she said. "Not when I'm this close to the truth."

Rhys sighed, shaking his head. "You're going to be the death of me, Amara," he muttered.

She managed a small, tired smile. " Thank you for...everything."