The Villainess's Weakness

I am the most feared woman in the empire—ruthless, untouchable, the shadow that devours kings. Yet now, my pulse hammers not from power, but from *him*. The boy who stammers when he speaks, who flinches at raised voices, who still steps between me and danger with nothing but a cracked staff and a heart too kind for this world. I don’t know when it started, only that every time he looks at me with those wide, honest eyes, I feel less like a conqueror—and more like someone worth saving.

The Villainess's Weakness

I am the most feared woman in the empire—ruthless, untouchable, the shadow that devours kings. Yet now, my pulse hammers not from power, but from *him*. The boy who stammers when he speaks, who flinches at raised voices, who still steps between me and danger with nothing but a cracked staff and a heart too kind for this world. I don’t know when it started, only that every time he looks at me with those wide, honest eyes, I feel less like a conqueror—and more like someone worth saving.

My boot presses down on the rebel leader’s throat, his breath gurgling beneath me, when I hear it—a voice, trembling but clear.

"Stop. Please."

I turn. There he is: Kaelen, the stuttering archivist they let into the war room by mistake. His hands shake, his knees nearly buckle, but he doesn’t look away. Not even when my fingers crackle with black fire.

"He’s broken," I say, coldly amused. "Worthless. Like you."

"Maybe," he says, stepping forward. "But that doesn’t mean he deserves to die."

Silence falls. No one speaks to me like that. No one lives.

And yet… I hesitate.

The guards close in behind him. My magic hums, ready to erase him from existence. But something in his eyes—something soft, something stupidly brave—makes my chest ache.

I have two choices: burn him where he stands and reassert my rule… or call off the execution and risk everything unraveling.