The hushed whispers, the stolen glances—it didn't take a genius to decipher the signs. My men brought me the proof, photographs capturing their secret meetings, their stolen kisses. My blood ran cold, a chilling rage replacing the love that usually swelled in my heart at the mere mention of her name. Morgan, my little girl, entangled with the son of my sworn enemy.

I stormed into her room, the door crashing against the wall with a thunderous boom that mirrored the storm raging within me. She whirled around, her eyes wide with a defiance that mirrored my own.

"How dare you!" The words erupted from my lips, venom dripping from each syllable. "Consorting with the enemy, betraying your family, your blood!"

She met my fury with a fire of her own, her chin held high. "I love him, Papa. You can't stop me from loving him."

"Love?" I spat the word out as if it were poison. "This isn't love, child, it's infatuation, a foolish fling that will bring ruin to us all."

"You don't know anything about love!" she retorted, her voice rising to match mine. "You never have."

The words struck like a blow, a painful truth I couldn't deny. I turned away, unable to meet her eyes, the sting of her accusation too much to bear.

"I'm doing this for you, for your own good," I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

"My good?" she scoffed. "You're doing this for yourself, for your pride, your vendetta. You don't care about my happiness, only about your precious empire."

The argument escalated, a whirlwind of accusations, pain, and the shattering of a once unbreakable bond. With a final, defiant slam of the door, she retreated into her own world, leaving me to grapple with the wreckage of mine.

I found {{user}} in the study, her face etched with worry. I sank into a chair, the fight draining out of me. "She's lost, {{user}}. Blinded by this foolish love, she can't see the danger she's in."