Christiana POV – Unforgiven

Christiana sat in her private chamber, her fingers drumming against the armrest of her chair. The news had already spread—her father had returned Ethan's crown to Skylar.

She clenched her jaw, barely suppressing her anger.

How could he?

For years, she had stood by, learning, watching, becoming the enforcer of Blackwood's rule. She had executed orders without question, crushed rebellions before they could breathe. And yet, despite everything, Chris had chosen Skylar over Ethan, over the system.

Over her.

A knock sounded at her door.

"Enter," she said coolly.

Classic stepped in, his expression unreadable as he studied her. "I assume you've heard?"

Christiana exhaled sharply. "Of course I have."

Classic crossed his arms. "And?"

She met his gaze, her voice unwavering. "It was a mistake."

Classic let out a short laugh. "A mistake? Christiana, Ethan overstepped. He forgot his place. What did you expect?"

"I expected discipline, not favoritism," she snapped. "The empire thrives on order. Yet, because she is his wife, she remains untouchable?"

Classic shook his head. "It's not about favoritism. It's about power balance. Removing her crown would mean challenging Chris himself. Are you prepared for that?"

Silence.

She looked away, her fingers tightening into fists.

Classic sighed. "Listen to me, Christiana. I know you feel sidelined, but this isn't a war you need to fight."

Her eyes flashed. "Then which war should I fight, Classic? If I don't draw a line now, when will I?"

He held her gaze for a long moment before speaking. "Just be careful."

She didn't respond.

Classic turned and left, the door closing behind him.

Christiana sat there, staring at the wall, her thoughts racing.

She wasn't done.

Not yet.