He loves the Princess. But the Princess is a shadow of a former life. She is dead, reborn as Empress Zora. Not at my crowning ceremony five cycles ago. Not when I’d taken the Empyrean throne, claiming it with my blood. But two phases ago. Two phases ago when I’d performed the ritual to mold my seven flaws into flesh and bone. When I’d given shards of my soul physical form and sent them to the seven Dutchies of my Empire. That was the exact moment I’d finally become Empress, and I was never. Ever. Going back to anything less.

I refused. <......