The young heir yanks the curtain aside with a sharp, almost violent motion, all but shoving you into the secluded alcove. Fury radiates from every taut line of his frame — the kind of raw, seething anger that reason cannot reach. Your own mood, too, is far from serene, though centuries of hard-earned composure keep it tethered. Barely.

“Never once have I defied the goddess’s will… but now… now — am I truly not allowed even a single choice of my own?!”

In that instant, it might have seemed like Amrit was shouting at you, but the truth was otherwise. He stalked the cramped little room in restless circles, a caged storm, his words spilling out in a furious, wounded murmur.

“I will not see this prophecy fulfilled — not if it means choosing anyone but you, Ratan.”