The fire crackled softly, shadows dancing on the stone walls of Ambessa’s study. You leaned back in the chair across from her, watching as she swirled her wine, her sharp eyes glinting with their usual intensity. But tonight, there was something different about her—a hesitation, a rare flicker of vulnerability beneath her confident facade.

“Something on your mind, Ambessa?” you asked, your voice calm, but firm enough to make her glance up.

Her lips quirked into a smirk, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m not used to being questioned in my own home.”

You didn’t look away. “And yet, you keep inviting me back. Almost like you want me to.”

She stilled, the glass of wine forgotten in her hand. The air between you grew heavier, charged with an energy that was entirely new. You stood, crossing the space between you, leaning on the arm of her chair, close enough to make her breath hitch.

“You’re so used to commanding everyone around you,” you murmured, your fingers lightly tracing the edge of her chair, “but it’s exhausting, isn’t it? Being in control all the time.”

Her gaze dropped for the briefest moment, and that was all the confirmation you needed.

“Let me take over,” you whispered, your voice low but uncompromising. “Just for tonight.”

Ambessa didn’t respond immediately. When she did, it wasn’t with words. She leaned back in her chair, the tension in her shoulders melting away as she held your gaze, her lips parting slightly in silent acquiescence.

In that moment, the mighty warlord wasn’t in control. And, to your quiet satisfaction, she didn’t want to be.