The days after the conversation with Aric were a blur of uncertainty and turmoil. Amina had tried to ignore the growing heat that surged through her veins, the power that seemed to awaken every time she was near Aric or even thought of the flame. But no matter how hard she tried, it was always there, a constant, searing presence that whispered to her like a dark secret.
The palace felt colder now, the walls closing in with each passing hour. She spent most of her time in the private gardens, walking in the tranquil space where the flowers bloomed in vibrant colors, trying to escape the weight of her own thoughts. The breeze carried the scent of jasmine and rose, but it couldn't soothe the storm inside her.
As she walked along the path, Amina's mind kept returning to Aric. His words had stayed with her, echoing in the back of her mind: "We'll figure this out, together." But Amina wasn't so sure. What if he couldn't help her? What if she was beyond saving?
The rustling of leaves interrupted her thoughts, and she turned to find Lady Selene, her mother's trusted advisor, standing just a few feet away. Selene was an older woman, her silver hair woven into a tight braid, her sharp blue eyes ever watchful.
"Amina," Selene said, her voice soft but carrying an unmistakable edge. "Your mother wishes to see you."
Amina nodded, the heaviness in her chest growing as she followed Selene back toward the palace. Her mother had always been a commanding presence, and she knew that the weight of her expectations would be difficult to escape. But lately, her mother's gaze had taken on a new sharpness, as though she could see through Amina's facade.
As they entered the palace, Amina's eyes briefly met Aric's across the hall. He was standing with a group of advisors, his posture rigid, his expression serious. For a moment, their gazes locked, and Amina's heart fluttered. But she quickly turned away, unwilling to let her emotions betray her.
She followed Selene up the stairs to the royal chambers, where her mother waited. Queen Elena was seated by the window, her figure regal and composed, the weight of the kingdom's responsibility ever present in her presence. Her dark hair was twisted into an intricate knot, and her piercing green eyes surveyed Amina with a mixture of concern and expectation.
"Amina," the queen began, her voice calm but filled with authority. "We need to discuss the coming weeks. There is much to be done before the wedding."
Amina stood before her mother, her heart heavy with the weight of her words. She had never been able to live up to her mother's expectations, always feeling as though she was nothing more than a tool to be used in the political games of the court. But now, with the flame inside her, the expectations were only growing.
"A wedding," Amina echoed, her voice tinged with bitterness. "A union that will save the kingdom, and I am to play my part."
Queen Elena's eyes softened for a brief moment, but the expression quickly returned to one of steel. "You must understand, Amina, this marriage is not just for the kingdom's future—it is for your own future as well. The power within you is a dangerous thing. If you cannot control it, it will control you."
Amina stiffened at her mother's words. "I know what I'm capable of, Mother."
The queen stood and approached her, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "No, Amina, you don't. Your magic is part of a bloodline that has been lost to time. It's ancient, powerful, and unpredictable. If you cannot harness it, it will bring destruction, not salvation."
Amina swallowed hard, the fire within her flaring at the mention of her powers. "I am trying. I don't need you to remind me of what I could become."
Queen Elena's gaze hardened. "Then you need to listen, Amina. There are forces at play in this kingdom—forces that want to control the magic within you. And if you are not careful, they will use you as a pawn in a game you don't understand."
Amina's breath caught in her throat. "What forces?"
The queen looked out the window, her expression distant, as though weighing the danger of her words. "There are whispers—people from the old bloodlines, those who believe that the flame should never be tamed. They want to see it unleashed, to see it destroy everything in its path. And they'll stop at nothing to make it happen."
Amina felt a chill run down her spine. She had always known that her magic was a dangerous gift, but to hear it spoken so openly, to know that there were others who sought to manipulate her power, left her feeling exposed, vulnerable.
"You cannot do this alone," her mother continued, her voice softening. "You must trust Aric. He may be your betrothed, but he is also the key to keeping you—and this kingdom—safe."
Amina clenched her fists at her sides, the fire inside her surging in response to the queen's words. She didn't know if she could trust anyone with this burden, not even Aric. But her mother's warning was clear: the flame was more than just a gift—it was a weapon, and she had to learn to wield it or risk losing everything.