Amira of Ironclad Empire

The faint chirping of birds stirred me awake, their songs blending with the soft rustle of the afternoon breeze brushing through the trees. I opened my eyes to the golden glow spilling through the window, stretching in slanted rays across the room.

My body felt rested, yet a tight knot lingered in my chest, as if something clawed from within. I pushed myself upright, brushing my shoulder-length waves back from my face, the loose strands tumbling softly against my neck. The creamy shawl Helena had tucked around me slipped to my elbows, and I sighed, feeling the silence pressing down on me.

This is it.

The dreams and memories clung vividly to my mind, refusing to fade even as I rested. They weighed on me, pushing me toward a choice I had been avoiding for too long. Kazmir deserves the truth.

Swinging my legs over the bed, I found myself steady, though faint aches still reminded me of the lingering poison. My pale blue dress crinkled faintly with the movement, its soft fabric catching the evening light. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror—a pale face, shadowed eyes, and shoulders stiff with determination. He needs to know.

By the time I descended the staircase, the estate was awash in the soft hues of sunset. Golden light bathed the halls, melting into streaks of amber and rose that poured through the tall windows. The faint scent of dinner preparations drifted through the halls, grounding me as I moved toward the terrace.

Kazmir stood near the garden's edge, his back to me. The glow of the setting sun outlined his broad shoulders and caught faint highlights in his unruly dark hair. He had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, and the emerald-green tunic he wore shimmered faintly where the gold embroidery reflected the light.

He looked peaceful, but there was an unmistakable restlessness in the way he shifted on his feet, the soft breeze tousling the lock of hair that stubbornly refused to behave. I hesitated, my chest tightening painfully. What if this peace shatters? What if my words are too much for him to bear?

As though sensing me, Kazmir turned around abruptly, his green eyes lighting up the moment they met mine. His entire face brightened, and he strode toward me with eager energy, his steps quick but careful.

"You're awake!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement. He reached for my hand, his warmth and presence washing over me like a comforting wave. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Water? Food? Should I call Helena? Or Sebastian? Or both? Wait—do you want me to carry you? You look a little pale—"

"Kazmir," I interrupted gently, squeezing his hand to ground him. "I'm fine. Just… a little tired still."

His brows furrowed as he studied me intently, his lips forming a slight pout. "You don't look fine," he muttered, his tone soft but insistent. "You still look pale, and I can see the shadows under your eyes. You've been through so much. Are you sure you're okay? Really?"

I smiled at his relentless concern, the way his energy was so focused on me, as though I were the center of his world. "I'm really okay," I reassured him. "But I need to talk to you."

His expression instantly turned serious, though his hand never left mine. "Of course," he said, his voice gentler now. "Whatever it is, I'm here."

He offered me his arm, his movements careful yet enthusiastic, like an overexcited puppy trying to stay composed. "Let's walk," he suggested, his energy softening into a tender protectiveness. He supported me gently by the elbow, matching his pace to mine as though afraid I might falter.

"Sebastian already took care of that cursed perfume," he added. "I told him to dispose of it properly—far away from the estate, just in case."

I nodded, leaning slightly into his steady hold as we moved through the garden. With each step, I could feel the remnants of the poison loosening their grip on me. My divine power is growing, I thought. Soon, the potency of the poison will drift away completely.

The garden was bathed in the warm hues of the dying sun, the golden glow giving way to deeper shades of orange and pink as the first stars began to blink in the sky. The faint hum of crickets mingled with the cool, fragrant air, heavy with the scent of roses and jasmine.

Kazmir stayed close, his steps deliberate and unhurried, his hand brushing lightly against my back—a subtle but constant reassurance. The warmth of his presence wrapped around me like a protective shield.

We reached a stone bench beneath a flowering tree, and Kazmir helped me sit. He hovered close, his green eyes scanning my face for any sign of discomfort. "Do you want me to get anything? A blanket? Tea? A—"

"Kazmir, I'm fine," I said with a soft laugh. "But there's something I need to tell you."

His playful energy settled into calm attentiveness as he sat beside me. "Go on," he said gently.

Taking a deep breath, I began. "My name wasn't always Amira. In my previous world… I was Katherine. Katherine Davis."

Kazmir tilted his head slightly, his expression softening. "Katherine," he repeated, as though testing the name on his tongue. "What else?"

I spoke about Korea—its vibrant cities, its people, and the life I had left behind. As I described Claude and Eleanor, his playful energy dimmed, replaced by a protective fierceness.

"If they ever traveled here," he said after a pause, his tone lightening, "I'll make sure to make them dolphins." His reference to his antics from the day before brought a laugh from me, though it was marred slightly by a residual cough.

His face immediately twisted with concern. "You're okay, right? Is it your chest? Should I—"

"I'm fine, Kazmir," I reassured him, squeezing his hand. "Really. It's just the poison fading. My divine power is stronger now. The pain isn't as bad as it used to be."

He still looked uncertain, but he nodded, his green eyes watching me closely.

As the conversation grew lighter, I decided to tease him. "You know, Kazmir," I began, feigning nonchalance, "if we ever visit Aurelion after the wedding, I might just follow their traditions."

Kazmir's brow furrowed in confusion. "Traditions? What traditions?"

"You know," I said, trying to suppress a grin. "Their coastal attire—light fabrics, maybe something daring. It's only appropriate, right?"

He blinked, clearly trying to imagine what I meant. "Light fabrics? Like… thinner tunics?"

"Not exactly," I said, biting my lip to keep from laughing. "More like… less fabric. Like swimsuits."

"Swim… suits?" He looked utterly baffled, his green eyes wide. "Wait, you mean you wear less? In front of people?"

"Yes," I said, nodding solemnly. "And it's completely normal there."

Kazmir's jaw dropped slightly, his expression a mix of horror and disbelief. "Amira," he groaned, covering his face with his hands. "You can't."

"Why not?" I teased. "It's their culture."

"Because," he said, his voice muffled behind his hands, "you're mine. And if anyone else dares to look at you, I'll… I'll…" He floundered, then sighed dramatically.

"Fine. But if we go to Aurelion, I'll buy you an entire wardrobe myself. You're wearing a cloak. A big one."

Laughing, I leaned against him. "You're impossible, Kazmir."

"And you love me for it," he said, his playful grin returning as he wrapped an arm around me.

And in that moment, I realized I did. For all his puppy-like enthusiasm, his protective nature, and his unrelenting care, I had fallen for him completely.