The clash of steel and the roar of battle rang through the palace courtyard, an orchestra of chaos as Kael and Selene fought side by side. The rebels—well-trained, ruthless, and determined—poured from the shadows, overwhelming the palace guard in numbers and skill. But the prince and his bride, bound by the Soul-Oath, moved as one. Every strike they made was a perfect synchrony, a seamless union of strength and strategy. They had become a force to be reckoned with, their combined fury unrelenting.
Kael's sword cut through the air, a blur of deadly precision, while Selene danced around him, her blade a sharp extension of her will. She struck with surgical accuracy, each movement calculated, deadly—every twist and turn a reflection of years of hidden strength. She had always been a warrior
