Amara POV
No one knew.
Not even the whispers in the darkest corners of the empire could conjure an explanation.
Chris Blackwood had vanished from the face of the earth.
No trace. No messages. No body. No digital footprint. No informant. No underground whisper. Even B.A.M's highest surveillance satellites, drones, and field agents—all came back empty-handed.
It was as if the ruler of the world had been... erased.
And the silence was now loud.
Amara sat alone in the Imperial War Room, the massive circular table lit by a singular blue projection orb in the center, displaying real-time feeds from all divisions of the Blackwood Empire.
Not one of them had Chris. Not one.
For the first time in her reign beside him, Amara felt fear—not from enemies, not from coups or threats—but from the unknown.
She hadn't cried.
She hadn't screamed.
But inside, her heart twisted tighter every day.
A man like Chris didn't just disappear. Not without a reason.
And if this was a plan… why hadn't he told her?
She ran her fingers through her hair, the weight of her power pressing like stone against her shoulders. The empire believed she was in control—and technically, she was. But power felt hollow without the man who forged it beside her.
She tried to distract herself. Meetings. Strategy sessions. Punishments. Promotions.
Yet every time she returned to their chamber, the untouched bed mocked her. His scent was fading from the sheets.
Her palace guards walked on eggshells. The council grew more restless by the day. Citizens were beginning to murmur, "Is Amara ruling alone now?"
Some even called her "Blackwood 1-in-shadow."
But she refused to sit on his throne.
That seat was his.
Until it wasn't.
Amara paced the chamber in the dead of night, barefoot on the cold marble. The guards stationed outside had grown used to her insomnia. Her movements had become part of their routine.
She stopped suddenly, breathing hard.
"What if he's dead?" she whispered to the empty air. "What if…"
Her knees buckled slightly, and she grabbed the edge of the bedpost to steady herself.
No. She couldn't afford to break. Not now.
Not while the world was still watching.
She turned to her encrypted console, opened a private log, and whispered, "Begin audio entry."
> Personal Log: Amara Blackwood. Day 39 since disappearance.
Status: Unknown. No leads. No signs of life. No communication.
Morale is stable on the surface. Beneath, there's fear.
If anyone finds this and I'm no longer alive… know that I loved him. That I would've burned every kingdom in the world to bring him back.
And if he's out there… Chris, I need you to come home.
She ended the log and stared at the screen.
Then she whispered again.
"I'm scared."
And for the first time since his disappearance… Amara cried.
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