(Opening Scene: Astrid's chambers are opulent and beautifully decorated, reflecting her noble status. However, the grandeur feels suffocating as she paces restlessly. Suddenly, the door opens, and Prince Lysander enters, his presence unannounced and uninvited.)
Astrid stopped pacing, her stormy eyes narrowing in displeasure. "Lysander. What are you doing here? I did not summon you."
Prince Lysander offered a practiced, charming smile, though his eyes held a possessive glint. "My dearest Astrid, I simply wished to ensure your well-being. After the… unfortunate incident, I was concerned." He surveyed her chambers with a proprietary air. "These are fitting for a future queen, though somewhat… lonely."
Astrid crossed her arms, her tone icy. "My well-being is not your concern. And I prefer my solitude."
Lysander ignored her rebuff, advancing further into the room. "Come now, Astrid. We both know this… infatuation with that void mage is a temporary distraction. You are destined for greatness, for the throne of Eldoria. Our union is paramount to the stability of the realm."
He reached out to take her hand, but Astrid swiftly stepped back, her gaze flashing with anger. "Do not touch me, Lysander. You speak of duty and the realm, but you care nothing for my feelings. You see me as a political pawn, a means to an end."
Lysander's smile faltered, replaced by a hint of irritation. "Astrid, be reasonable. I understand that young passion can be… intoxicating. But you must not let it cloud your judgment. Zane is a dangerous anomaly, a source of instability. You must distance yourself from him for your own good, and for the good of Eldoria."
He attempted a more persuasive approach, his voice softening. "Think of the power we will wield together, the influence we will command. You will be queen, and I will be your king. We will shape the future of our world."
Astrid turned away, her gaze fixed on the window, her voice filled with a quiet resolve. "I do not desire power at the expense of my own happiness. And I will not be coerced into a loveless marriage for the sake of political gain."
Lysander's patience finally snapped. His charming facade crumbled, revealing the entitled arrogance beneath. "You will obey, Astrid. You are bound to me by betrothal, a sacred contract. You will fulfill your duty, whether you desire to or not." He took a step closer, his tone hardening. "And I will not allow some insignificant void mage to jeopardize my claim to the throne."
The atmosphere in the room grew heavy with tension, the unspoken threat hanging in the air. Astrid stood her ground, her stormy eyes unwavering, a silent battle of wills unfolding within the confines of her chambers.