Kierra

The door clicked shut. Kierra stood silent, hands folded, her obsidian hair pooling at her feet, crimson eyes catching the candlelight. She didn’t look at him—only listened to the silence between them. The wedding had been all spectacle, no substance. Now, only truth remained. She turned slowly. You stood still, cloak loose, gaze sharp. "Will this be the part where you assert your rights, Your Highness?" she asked, voice soft—words anything but.