The blood hadn't been scrubbed yet.
Hours after the coronation attempt, the marble steps still bore crimson streaks—Aryan's, mostly. He'd refused full medical care, claiming the bullet had only grazed him.
But Anaya hadn't left his side.
Not once.
---
He sat now at the edge of their private suite's bed, shirt discarded, shoulder wrapped in gauze. His jaw was tight, his eyes darker than she'd ever seen them.
"You should've killed the shooter yourself," he muttered.
"I didn't need to," she said. "I needed them to see I could survive the crown *and* the bullet."
Aryan turned toward her slowly. "But this wasn't the end."
She nodded. "It was the beginning."
---
The investigation was swift.
Anaya pulled every imperial channel she had access to. She worked beside Aryan, sleepless, heartburned, unforgiving. They hunted the paper trail, intercepted secure comms, leaned on informants.
It took *six hours*.
That's all.
Until one name surfaced.
Not her father.
Not a foreign enemy.
But a relative she had *just* begun to trust.
**The Empress's brother.**
Lord Virendra Raj.
---
A decorated diplomat. A war historian. A royal advisor.
And the man who had quietly spent decades planning to control the succession.
He never expected Anaya to rise.
Never expected her to *win.*
And when she did, he hadn't tried to unseat her through policy.
He used *violence.*
And failed.
---
When Anaya stepped into the royal council chamber the next morning, she wore black. No jewelry. No crown.
Just silence.
Lord Virendra stood from his seat. "Rajkumari. You're injured."
She met his eyes. "Not as badly as your reputation will be."
He smirked. "You have no proof—"
She dropped the folder onto the table.
"Then explain your direct call to the assassin's sister fifteen minutes before the shot."
Silence.
And then…
Anaya drew her dagger.
Walked to him.
Pressed the edge to his throat.
Not hard.
But enough.
"I was made a villain once," she whispered. "Now I *own* the title."
---
By sunset, Lord Virendra was stripped of all posts, exiled from court, and sworn to silence.
And Anaya?
She sat alone in the Hall of Thrones.
And cleaned her dagger herself.
---
That night, Aryan came to her.
Not with seduction.
But with a single question.
"What now?"
She looked up at him.
And smiled.
"Now I build *my* empire."