Phantom’s POV
The conference room hums with fluorescent light, the buzz overhead mixing with the restless murmur of reporters. The air is thick with perfume, ink, and anticipation. Cameras flash like lightning, each burst ricocheting off the paneled walls, momentarily blinding. The microphones on the long table hiss and crackle, amplifying every cough, every shuffle of paper.
I stand at the podium, no longer a prince answering to another’s crown—now king. Every word I speak carries the weight of my people, every silence is dissected. Calm is my armor, restraint my weapon.
“King Phantom,” a voice cuts through the noise, sharp, insistent. “Can you confirm who your chosen mate is?”
The air tightens. Reporters lean forward, pens poised, cameras ready to capture the moment. My heartbe
