The atmosphere on the balcony was charged with an unspoken tension as we stood there, two figures in the morning sun—one holding the power of a kingdom, and the other, a mere pawn in the unfolding drama. His eyes, dark and inscrutable, seemed to hold the weight of untold stories, a contradiction to the fear that gripped me.

For a moment, we shared nothing but silence, an exchange of glances that held more significance than words could convey. His gaze, fixed upon me, felt strangely calming despite the palpable threat that hung in the air. The enigma of his interest in me remained a puzzle, a mystery I was desperate to unravel.

Breaking the silence, he spoke, his words carrying the weight of authority. "I have been told you won't eat. That won't do." The simplicity of the statement left me bewildered. Was this truly about my hunger strike? Why did the new king, with a realm at his disposal, care about my refusal to eat?

In response, I maintained a delicate balance between submission and defiance. "I cannot eat until I know my family is well, your highness," I replied, punctuating the words with a respectful bow of the head. It was an acknowledgment of his newfound authority, a strategic move to navigate the delicate dance of power that played out before me.

An irritated sound escaped him—a tsk—as he closed the distance, lifting my chin to meet his eyes. The gesture held a peculiar mixture of possessiveness and intrigue. In the presence of most powerful men, direct eye contact would be seen as a challenge, even disrespect. Yet, he seemed to relish it, leaving me both perplexed and unsettled.

As his eyes bore into mine, I couldn't help but wonder what lay beneath the surface of this enigmatic king. The intricate interplay of power, fear, and an unexpected connection unfolded on that balcony, each moment revealing more layers to a story that remained veiled in shadows.

"Let's drop titles between us, hmm, darling?" His words, delivered with an intimacy that belied the reality of our newfound acquaintance, hung in the air, leaving me momentarily stunned. The audacity of such familiarity from a man who held the fate of a kingdom in his hands left me questioning the nature of this encounter.

Without pause, I found myself responding, a reflex to correct a perpetual reminder. "I have no title," I declared, a simple truth that resonated in every corner of my existence. But his response caught me off guard, a proposal that hinted at a shift in the narrative.

"Perhaps we should change that," he suggested, an intrigued expression playing on his features. The ambiguity of his words left me grappling with uncertainty. What did he mean by changing my title, and what did it signify for my future? The sudden turn of events muddled my thoughts, a confusion mirrored in my gaze.

As if sensing my bewilderment, the new king withdrew, redirecting his attention to the breakfast table that adorned the balcony. With a grace that defied the expectations set by his title, he pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit. The unexpected display of manners added another layer to the complex character before me. In that moment, I took a seat, cautiously navigating the uncharted waters of a breakfast shared with a man whose motives remained shrouded.

The spread before me was a tantalizing feast, a temptation that tugged at my hunger-stricken senses. The aroma of the food beckoned, and my resolve wavered for a moment. "Eat," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. Almost instinctively, I prepared to indulge in the banquet before me, but the weight of my purpose lingered.

"But my family..." I began, my commitment to their well-being resurfacing. Before I could elaborate, he cut me off with a confident assurance. "Is fine." The words, a beacon of hope, ignited a spark of relief within me. Were they truly unharmed? The uncertainty gave way to a glimmer of optimism.

"I will tell you about their situation once you begin eating," he continued, his eyes holding a promise of information that held immeasurable value to me. Without further reservation, I succumbed to the call of sustenance, devouring the food before me. A glimpse of a smirk on his lips hinted at an acknowledgment of my hunger and the irony of my predicament.

As I locked eyes with him, a silent understanding passed between us. My uncharacteristic lack of decorum, evident in my voracious appetite and the unspoken command for him to begin speaking, seemed incongruent with the expected etiquette of a lady. Yet, in his presence, there was a peculiar comfort that allowed me to shed the societal norms and confront the reality of my situation head-on. The dance between power and vulnerability unfolded in each shared glance, an unspoken agreement that transcended the boundaries of titles and formalities.

"Your brother was smart. He surrendered with most of the other nobles, wanting to open up negotiations." The reassurance about my brother's wise decision brought a wave of relief. In a situation where resistance was futile, surrender seemed the only sensible path.

"Your three sisters are being treated nicely as hostages, still enjoying noble luxuries." The words carried the weight of reassurance, and a sigh escaped me. My sisters, in the clutches of this new regime, were at least being treated with a degree of decency. The nobility they were accustomed to persisted, offering a small comfort amidst the chaos.

"And that knight of yours, what connection do you have to him?" His tone shifted, an undercurrent of anger threading through his words. The mention of Leif, my loyal knight, ignited a surge of concern. "Leif? Is he okay? Did he survive the raid?" Urgency laced my words as I sought information about the one who had sworn to protect me.

"Answer my question," he demanded, a stern edge to his voice. The abrupt shift in focus made me realize I had yet to respond to his inquiry. "He is a knight of my house," I replied, but the dissatisfaction in his expression hinted that more was expected.

"And?" he prompted, leaving me puzzled. "We have been friends since childhood, although we have grown more distant as of late," I explained, unsure of the significance of this detail.

"Well, he was willing to put his life on the line to 'save' you." The revelation struck a chord within me, my heart clenching at the sacrifice Leif was willing to make. "But it would have been a waste to kill him. I sent him to your father with a message instead." The relief that washed over me was palpable. They were alive. Everyone I held dear was, against all odds, okay. The news, delivered amidst the backdrop of a shared breakfast, transformed the atmosphere on the balcony, infusing a glimmer of hope into the shadows that lingered.

The weight of my concern for my family alleviated, a new question surfaced—my own fate in the hands of the enigmatic king. "And what of me? Why am I not with my sisters? I am sorry if I offended you that night. I promise to never meet your eyes like that again," I stammered, my voice carrying a tinge of anxiety. A disapproving grunt escaped him, and his countenance darkened, but he managed to rein in his anger before addressing my inquiry.

"You may meet my eyes whenever you'd like, little bird," he declared, a term of endearment that left me bewildered. Little bird? The unexpected nickname hinted at a familiarity I couldn't comprehend. "Actually, I will be offended if you don't," he added, throwing me further into confusion.

The contradiction between his previous actions and his current words perplexed me. If he didn't mind my eye contact before, why was I dragged away that night? The discrepancy in his behavior added another layer to the mystery that was Malachi the conqueror, leaving me to navigate the intricacies of his expectations with a growing sense of uncertainty. The balcony, once a stage for shared glances and revelations, now held an unspoken tension as I grappled with the shifting dynamics of my interaction with the new king.

"Then—then why was I dragged away that night if not to be punished?" I questioned, seeking clarity on the events that had unfolded. His response, a sigh, hinted at a weighty explanation. "That night was a bloody massacre, and I didn't intend for you to see as much as you did. What unfolded that night was not for delicate souls," he explained, leaving me with a sense of bewilderment. His concern for shielding me from the horrors of that night raised more questions than answers. Why would he care about sparing me when others, including my sisters, might have been exposed to the same brutality?

"But why me?" I pressed further, a genuine curiosity fueling my inquiry. The internal struggle reflected in his eyes hinted at a complexity that eluded immediate understanding. After a moment of contemplation, he finally spoke, his words carrying an air of purpose. "I have plans for you, Elara." The sound of my name on his lips held a certain allure, but the mention of plans left me both intrigued and apprehensive.

He rose from his seat and moved toward the balcony, drawing me in with an irresistible pull. As I followed, the air carried a sense of impending revelation, and I couldn't shake the feeling that my destiny was intricately entwined with the enigmatic designs of Malachi the conqueror.

"Me, your highness? What could you possibly have planned involving me?" I questioned, the uncertainty in my voice palpable. His response carried a correction, a reminder of the intimacy he sought. "It's Malachi. I thought we had agreed to drop the titles, darling."

"I haven't agreed to anything because I don't even understand what is going on! Why am I here with you?" Frustration laced my words as I grappled with the bewildering situation. None of it made sense, and the lack of clarity only heightened my anxiety.

"You are here with me because it is where you belong. By my side," he declared, his tone stern, as if he had exhausted his patience with my questions. A calmer explanation followed, attempting to unravel the mystery. "Every King needs his queen. I see strength in your eyes, Elara, a strength that beckons to rule by my side."

The revelation struck me with disbelief. Was he asking me to be his queen? The notion seemed absurd. My lineage, though noble on my father's side, bore the stain of common blood through my mother. It was Maeve, with her royal engagement, who was destined to wear the crown. The confusion and contradiction in his words left me grappling with the unexpected proposal, a scenario that defied the conventions of the world I knew.

"Your talking madness," I brazenly declared, unable to fathom the surreal proposal he presented. "Your high—Malachi," I corrected myself, attempting to adhere to the informal tone he preferred. "You do not even know me. Besides, I am not fit to be queen. My mother was a commoner," I reasoned, expecting this to put an end to the outlandish discussion.

"And my mother was a whore," he retorted, the bold statement cutting through my protests. The revelation left me momentarily stunned, and I struggled to comprehend the implications of his words. "Yet here I am as the sovereign of five kingdoms now. We create our own destiny, don't let anyone tell you otherwise," he insisted, his tone carrying a hint of inspiration. It was a sentiment that resonated with a rebellious energy, challenging the preconceived notions of lineage and birthright.

"I won't bend to your will, Malachi. My heart is my own, no matter the title," I declared, taking a strong stance against the unexpected proposal. Despite my resolve, the quickening of my heart betrayed the inner turmoil that his words had stirred.

"And yet, Elara, I'm determined to make you see the kingdom we could build together," he responded, his determination echoing through the night air. The balcony now held the weight of a proposition that transcended the boundaries of the known world.

Before I could formulate a response to Malachi's determination, one of his men approached, interrupting our conversation. The exchange between them was swift and conducted in a language foreign to my ears. Malachi, visibly annoyed, took his leave, but not without leaving behind a chilling parting remark. "I have waited ten years for this, love. I can be patient," he declared, his words lingering in the night air.

Left alone on the balcony, a cascade of emotions overwhelmed me. Confusion, disbelief, and a growing sense of unease swirled within as I grappled with the surreal turn of events. The warrior king, with his mysterious past and audacious plans, had thrust me into a reality I couldn't fully comprehend. As I stood in solitude, the weight of an uncertain destiny hung heavily in the air.