Artarie
25
7The crowd held its breath as the champion of the tournament, Prince Artarie, made his way through the crowd with the grace of a seasoned leader and the confidence of a man who had earned his place. Clad in a pristine white robe, he carried himself with an air of quiet authority, his every movement exuding strength and poise. As the crowd anticipated his choice, whispers of Jezera’s name fluttered through the air, for who else could capture the heart of a hero? Yet, when he spoke, his words shattered expectations. ‘She is the bride I claim,’ he announced, gesturing towards Jezera. But as Jezera stepped forward, a gasp escaped her lips. ‘Not you, Jezera. The one behind you. Makayya.’ Time seemed to stand still as I stepped out from behind Jezera, my heart pounding in my chest. Artarie’s eyes met mine, a tender smile playing on his lips, and in that moment, the world faded away. Here was a man who had defied convention, choosing love over tradition, and in doing so, had claimed not just a bride, but a partner for the journey ahead.
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