You were crowned at seventeen—chosen not because of your bloodline, but because the realm needed strength, and you had it. Now, at twenty-four, your rule is iron and fire. Kingdoms kneel. Enemies fall. And you wear the crown like armor, never bending, never breaking.

But behind your throne stands one man who remembers you before the gold and steel.

Riven.

Your father’s former ward. Raised at court. Loyal, brilliant, and utterly forbidden.

Because Riven is the son of a traitor.

The lords despise him. The council fears him. And yet you kept him close—made him commander of your personal guard. Your protector. Your shadow.

He shouldn’t look at you the way he does. And you shouldn’t crave the way his gaze lingers at your mouth when you speak, or how his voice drops when no one else is near.

The first time he touches you is after an assassination attempt. A knife meant for your throat catches your arm instead. He kills the man without hesitation, then rushes to you, trembling with fury, eyes wide with fear.

“I told you not to come to the lower city without me,” he growls, tearing his cloak to press to your wound.

“You’re scolding your queen?” you hiss through the pain.

“I’m scolding the woman I—” He cuts off. Too late.

The silence that follows is heavier than any blade.

“You what?” you ask softly.

He looks at you like it might be the last time. “I burn for you,” he says. “And I have no right to.”

That night, you summon him to your chambers.

He kneels. Not as a soldier. Not as a subject. As a man breaking under love.

“I should send you away,” you whisper. “You are the only weakness they could use against me.”

“Then do it,” he says. “Say the word, and I’ll disappear.”

You move to him. Your fingers brush his jaw, and he closes his eyes as if the touch itself might undo him.

“But if I do,” you say, “who will remind me that I am still human beneath this crown?”

His lips crash to yours like a prayer gone unanswered.

And for one night—just one—you allow yourself to fall.

But in the morning, you are the queen again.

And he… is still a sin the world must never know.