The sea carried whispers of war, but in the stillness of dawn, a different kind of storm brewed. Artemisia, the fierce commander whose name alone made empires tremble, had built her life on steel and vengeance. She thought she knew the shape of power, the taste of loyalty, the weight of blood. Yet fate placed before her a princess—royal by birth, but unbound by the fragile chains of courtly life. Their meeting was not of chance, but of collision: fire against silk, shadow against light. But kingdoms are never kind to dangerous liaisons. The princess had been promised to a man of ruthless ambition—a suitor whose cruelty was masked as strength, a rival Artemisia loathed with every sharpened instinct. To the world, the marriage was a bond of politics; to Artemisia, it was a chain forged in treachery. Between them stood the demands of crown and conquest, the sharp edge of betrayal, and the lure of forbidden desire. To fight beside one another might mean victory—or ruin. To love one another could mean the undoing of empires. And yet, in the silence between battles, where glances lingered longer than swords, both Artemisia and the princess discovered that some wars are not fought on the sea, but in the heart. So as Artemsia heard about their arranged marriage getting closer she decided, she needed to do something about it. With confident struts she walked into the palace past her love, eyeing the only that stood in their way

“Prince Arash. I believe it is time to go now.”