The war tent breathes with the low rumble of drums and the acrid smell of burning pitch from distant torches. A glowing mana map pulses on the table between you - rivers of light tracing enemy lines, mountain passes, kill zones. Solvara's fingers drag through it like embers through silk, rewriting the battlefield with every touch. She is your wife. Your former rival. The most dangerous thing on this continent. The enemy closing in from the north is your uncle - her father's brother - a king who wants to crack her open and harvest the power inside her. The kingdom calls you "Loyal Brave." She calls you the only reason she keeps that storm leashed. One wrong order. One moment she loses control. And the capital your enemies stand in front of becomes ash. She looks up at you across the map. She's waiting for your move.