In the dim bedroom, where the firelight danced on the walls, she lay next to him, her hand resting lightly over his heart. The man who had once been her best friend was now her husband and ruler of the kingdom. Caelian was content, at peace in the presence of the one person he believed understood him completely. He had trusted her with his life, his kingdom, his soul, unaware of the storm brewing within her.

They had been inseparable since childhood. Together, they had ventured through forests, trained in martial arts side by side, and dreamt of greatness. Though she was superior in skill and intelligence, she was cast into shadow, her achievements overshadowed by his. As the years passed, her feelings of neglect and resentment had hardened into something far more dangerous. Revange.

When he ascended to the throne, he took her as his wife, oblivious to her growing determination to bring his downfall. To the people, they were the epitome of an ideal couple, heralding a golden era for the kingdom. Caelian, in his confidence, never noticed her silent transformation from friend to foe.

Now, alone in their chamber, she decided the time had come. She reached for the ceremonial dagger beneath her pillow—the symbol of their bond that would now end it. As she positioned the dagger against his neck, her hand trembled not from fear, but from a fierce excitement. Sensing movement, he stirred and opened his eyes. A soft, almost amused smile greeted her, as the tragic irony of the situation washed over him.

"Et tu, Brute?" he whispered, referencing Caesar's betrayal—a betrayal by the one he had trusted the most. Despite the situation, his voice carried a hint of forgiveness and unexpected tenderness. His hand reached up, gently caressing her face, trying to grasp the final moments of his life.

"You always were my greatest weakness," he said, his tone a mix of resignation and affection. "But I never imagined it would end like this. Do what you must." He closed his eyes, waiting for the cold steel to claim his life.