POV: The Dictator — Christiana Blackwood
I stood by the tall arched windows of the citadel, watching Amara walk out of the grand chamber with quiet confidence. The 50 billion budget. The festival. The glory. All of it... handed to her.
I should've felt slighted. Sidestepped. But I didn't.
I felt something else—something far more dangerous.
Curiosity.
> "Why her?" I had asked Father days ago when he began assigning things to Amara, even the smallest of tasks that once fell under my authority. He didn't answer then. He rarely ever does. Instead, he looks at me like a king looks at a weapon he forged himself—proud, but unafraid to toss it aside if it dulls.
But I am not dull. I am the Dictator.
And yet… I wasn't asked to handle the festival. Not the budget. Not the crowd control. Not even the military oversight for the event. All of it, every detail—Amara.
I clenched my jaw and turned away from the window. Inside me was a storm, but I wore calm like armor.
They think I'm watching. Observing. Sulking, maybe. But what I'm doing is learning.
Amara's style is different. Tactical, subtle, obedient. And Father is drawn to that. But that obedience—it's her greatest strength, and her most dangerous flaw.
Because obedience without vision leads only to stagnation.
I walked to the table and spread out the maps of the city. I won't interfere with her festival. No. That would be childish, beneath me. But I will make my move—after.
Let them celebrate. Let the people cheer for the empire. Let Father praise her for a masterpiece.
But once the music fades and the lights dim, once the dancers go home and the Blackwood flags stop waving...
That's when the real power will shift.
> "Let her shine," I murmured, tapping my finger against the map. "While I reshape the foundation."
I wasn't just the Dictator of this empire—I was its spine. Amara may have been given the budget, but I controlled the systems she had to go through. And when the time was right, she'd see just how much depended on my hand behind the curtain.
The crown may shine in the light.
But power… power grows in the shadows.