The air in the room was heavy with tension, a palpable mix of power and authority radiating from Ambessa Medarda as she stood near the fireplace. The faint crackle of the flames cast shadows across her sharp features, highlighting the strength in her jawline and the unwavering determination in her eyes. She wasn’t a woman who welcomed interruptions, let alone flattery.

“You’ve been staring for quite some time,” she said, her deep voice cutting through the silence like a blade. She didn’t bother to turn to face you, instead swirling the dark liquid in her glass with an air of indifference.

You hadn’t meant to get caught. But there was something about her presence—commanding yet poised, intimidating yet magnetic—that made it impossible to look away. Ambessa wasn’t the type of person who needed to try to captivate a room; she simply was.