Tavari slowly opened his eyes.

  The ceiling above shimmered. He was lying on a majestic bed draped in silk, its frame carved from gold and silver, studded with diamonds that caught the light like stars. The room was enormous — as large as his family home — its walls lined with polished gold panels and mirrored crystal. A grand mirror with a thick golden frame stood a meter away, reflecting a version of him that didn’t feel real.

  For a moment, he thought he was dreaming.

  Then he turned his head. Two men stood beside his bed, dressed in royal servant attire, heads bowed low.

  Tavari blinked. “Oh… wow.”

  “Greetings, Lord Tavari,” one of them said respectfully. “We are your attendants. We will assist you in everything you require.”

  “My attendants?” Tavari repeated softly.

  “May we prepare your bath?”

  “No,” Tavari answered immediately — then paused. “I mean… I can bathe myself.”

  The men exchanged a quick glance. “As you wish, my lord. Would you prefer the water warm or cool?”

  “Anything is fine.”

  They disappeared into the adjoining chamber. Steam soon rose, filling the room.

  After bathing, they dressed him in royal garments — dark embroidered fabric stitched with gold thread. He looked… different. Cleaner. Sharper. Almost like someone important.

  “Where are we going?” Tavari asked.

  “You will have lunch with the Watcher,” one servant replied, “and the kings of the Twelve Kingdoms.”

  Tavari froze. “Why me?”

  “They are waiting for you, my lord.”

  He swallowed. “Where are my siblings?”

  “They will attend as well. However… your two sisters will be sent back tomorrow.”

  Tavari’s brows tightened. “Why?”

  “Women are not permitted to train alongside men,” the servant explained carefully. “It is a request enforced by the Twelve Kings. They seek to prevent a queen from rising to power.”

  Silence fell.

  Tavari’s voice hardened. “Why does the world underestimate women? They are as strong as men. Sometimes stronger.”

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  The two attendants lowered their eyes.

  The door opened. “It is time.”

  Tavari walked behind them, disappointment heavy in his chest. The gold around him suddenly felt less like luxury… and more like a cage.

  He stepped out of the chamber. The corridor stretched endlessly before him.

  On both sides, rows upon rows of servants — nearly a thousand — stood aligned in perfect symmetry. The moment he appeared, they all bowed in unison.

  “Greetings, Lord Tavari.”

  The sound echoed like a wave.

  He slowed his steps, shy under the overwhelming attention. His body still ached from the forced channeling. Every movement reminded him of the blade, of Serena’s blood, of the threads bursting from him.

  The golden corridor stretched nearly twenty meters before reaching a grand staircase. He descended slowly.

  At the bottom stood a vast hall. Twelve thrones formed a half-circle — each occupied by a king from the Twelve Kingdoms. Their crowns glittered beneath chandeliers of crystal fire.

  And above them all—on the highest throne, carved from white stone and gold—sat the Watcher. Still. Untouchable.

  Beside him stood a young man, no older than twenty. He did not sit. He simply stood, calm and steady.

  The moment Tavari’s eyes met his—

  The world dimmed. The noise of the hall softened. The ache in his body dulled for a heartbeat. It felt as if invisible threads had reached from deep inside him and wrapped around the young man’s soul.

  It was not attraction. It was recognition. Something older than time itself.

  Arie felt it too. His chest tightened. His mind spun. A strange pull gripped him, calling him forward, yet he could not name why.

  Neither of them understood what was happening.

  Above them, the Watcher’s gaze sharpened, as if he saw the threads forming before anyone else could.

  Tavari swallowed, trying to steady himself. The lunch was about to begin. And he knew — he would not remain quiet for long.