Usurper of flames

Rani POV

Chapter 6: Usurper of flames 

In this life, I owe only myself. I owe myself this kingdom, a throne won through iron and fire, a dynasty born from the ashes of another. I will not soften for the sake of a man who sees me only as a pretender, nor will I surrender to remorse over the path I chose. He may see a monster when he looks at me, but it is a monster of his own making—a creature born of his family's cruelty and my people's silent, unbroken rage.

No. I owe myself victory. And if I must become the very thing his line fears, then so be it. I will not turn away from what I have started. I will claim this throne, and I will keep it, no matter the cost.

Ambition has always run in my veins, like a quiet flame that refuses to be quenched. Being born the middle child—neither the first to be celebrated nor the last to be coddled—left little room for promises. Unlike my elder brother, I was not the heir. And unlike my older sister, I was not burdened by the responsibilities of the family. Nor was I born a man, and in others eyes, that alone had always drawn a line through my claim to anything resembling power.

Perhaps it was that very disregard that fueled my need to create my own path. To make my own throne. From the moment I understood the way my family's eyes passed over me, I knew that I would have to take what wasn't given, so, I learned. I watched. I sharpened my mind like a blade, learning how to see what others overlooked, how to find the cracks where even the strongest walls falter.

In Dravida, a place torn between loyalty and longing for freedom, I found my purpose. It was my homeland, but more than that, it was my proving ground—a place where I could plant the seeds of my own rule, free from the weight of others' expectations. Every step I took there was a calculated risk, every city and outpost freed from Albions rule, every alliance a stepping stone to something greater. The people, desperate for change, came to see me as their symbol, their sword. They saw strength where others saw only a daughter discarded. Yet my mother her throne to me, despite my numerous successes where others had failed. To them another common soldier, so I would have to claim another's crown as my own.

How naive I was.

After stealing Albions crown of ice I realised strength is rarely enough to keep a throne secure. It's a kingdom made of shadows and whispers, and I've learned that wielding it takes more than just a strong hand. It takes cunning, patience, and a willingness to be both feared and loved

I am neither good nor bad, neither saint nor sinner. I am a servant of my own ambition, and I have long accepted that those who walk this path rarely find themselves basking in the warmth of others' approval. But approval is a fickle thing. It fades, blown about like dust on a battlefield, easily forgotten. Legacy, however—that remains.

To be remembered and revered, to craft a legacy that endures beyond whispers and courtly gossip, decisions must be made. Hard decisions, ones that burn the heart to make and scar the conscience. But I did not come this far, did not seize this throne, simply to please. Reverence is born of fear as much as love, and strength as much as kindness. Those who call me ruthless mistake survival for cruelty, ambition for cruelty, and my goals for something darker than they are.

In truth, my choices have not always been just or noble, nor am I foolish enough to claim that they were. But those who judge me do so from the comfort of lives untouched by the struggles that made me. They have never fought for a throne that was never meant to be theirs. They have never had to mould destiny itself to fit their hands.

So let them judge. Let them call me ruthless, heartless, cunning—whatever it is they need to whisper to feel safe in my presence. They may see my actions as wrong, but history will see the legacy of what I build here. And when they remember my name, it will be with reverence, and perhaps a little fear. For I plan to be remembered, even if I must become a villain in the stories that live beyond me.