Chapter 10: A King's Wrath

The grand halls of the Aurelian Palace echoed with the heavy footsteps of King Alistair Aurelius. His face was dark with fury as he paced before his throne, his golden robes swirling around him. The news had reached him swiftly—his son, Prince Cassius, had formally declared his intent to marry Princess Amara of Khaliri.

A Black woman. An African princess.

King Alistair had always known his son was stubborn, but this? This was beyond defiance—it was betrayal.

When Cassius finally entered the throne room, he found his father standing at the center, his expression thunderous. The tension in the air was suffocating. The court had been dismissed, leaving only the two of them in the vast chamber.

"You would bring shame to this kingdom," King Alistair spat, his voice laced with venom. "You would taint the Aurelian bloodline—our legacy—for the sake of a foreign woman?"

Cassius clenched his jaw, his hands forming tight fists at his sides. He had expected resistance, but hearing the words aloud ignited a fire within him.

"This is not about blood," Cassius said firmly. "This is about strength. Amara is not just any woman—she is a warrior, a ruler in her own right. She is more worthy of the Aurelian throne than any of the pampered noblewomen you parade before me."

King Alistair's eyes narrowed. "Do not speak to me of worth, boy. You think love can protect a kingdom? You think your infatuation is more important than the traditions we have upheld for centuries?"

Cassius took a step forward, his voice unwavering. "I am not infatuated, Father. I respect her. She challenges me in ways no one else has. She is not a delicate flower in need of protection—she is a flame, and she will burn brighter than any queen this empire has ever known."

The king scoffed, shaking his head. "And what of our people? Do you think they will accept her? A Black queen, ruling over them? They will revolt."

Cassius's expression darkened. "Then let them revolt." His voice was low, steady, and dangerously calm. "If the people of Aurelia cannot accept strength, then perhaps they are weaker than I thought."

Alistair's fury boiled over. He stepped forward and struck Cassius across the face, the sound echoing through the chamber like a clap of thunder.

Cassius did not flinch. He stood tall, his head turning back to face his father, his eyes burning with defiance.

"You are my son," the king growled. "But if you continue down this path, you will no longer be my heir."

The threat hung between them, heavy and suffocating. Cassius inhaled sharply, his heart pounding in his chest.

For a moment, silence reigned. Then, slowly, Cassius smiled.

"You've always said I must earn my crown," he murmured. "Perhaps it's time I take it instead."

Alistair's eyes widened slightly—only for a second—before narrowing into a glare. "You dare challenge me?"

Cassius straightened his shoulders, the weight of his decision settling upon him like armor. "I dare to choose my own path. If that makes me unworthy in your eyes, then so be it. But I will not be ruled by fear or prejudice. And I will not abandon Amara."

The king's lips curled into a sneer. "You are a fool, Cassius. You will bring this kingdom to ruin."

Cassius turned on his heel, walking toward the grand doors. As he reached them, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder.

"No, Father," he said, his voice resolute. "I will change it."

And with that, he left, leaving his father standing alone in the throne room, his face twisted in rage.

Outside, Cassius exhaled, the weight of his choice sinking in. War was coming. Not with swords and armies—not yet—but with politics, with whispered betrayals and hidden daggers.

But Cassius was ready.

For Amara.

For the future he would build with her.

For the kingdom he would one day rule—on his own terms.