Transmigrated as the Villainess Princess - Chapter 192

Chapter 192: Back with Uncertainties
Ahcehera’s journey back to Sinalta was smooth, but her mind was anything but calm.

As the vast expanse of space stretched before her, she found herself caught in a web of thoughts she couldn’t quite untangle.

She was not one to dwell on unnecessary emotions. She had lived her life under duty, under expectation, under the weight of a family name that carried power and blood.

Her decisions had always been calculated, her heart kept tightly sealed, her desires nothing more than whispers drowned beneath the roar of responsibility.

And yet, someone had managed to slip through the cracks of that carefully built wall.

Archinsyne.

The name echoed in her mind like a soft melody that refused to fade. It was not love, she would never be foolish enough to claim such a thing for a man she barely knew.

But something about him lingered. A shadow at the edge of her thoughts, a presence she could not shake.

Perhaps it was the way he carried himself, always composed yet never rigid, his actions deliberate yet unassuming.

Or maybe it was the way he had always been there, in the background, quietly supporting her without expecting anything in return.

She had been surrounded by loyalty her entire life, yet his was different, selfless, unspoken, not bound by blood or duty, but by something more elusive.

Why did she feel safe when he was near?

Why did she think of him even now, as the great planet of Sinalta came into view?

She clenched her fists as she stared out the window of the starship. This was absurd.

She had fought against the very concept of vulnerability for years, ensuring that no one could ever truly reach the deepest parts of her.

And yet, in the quiet of space, she was forced to admit it. Something about him unsettled her.

The starship landed with a soft thud, the mechanisms hissing as the pressure adjusted to the atmosphere of Sinalta.

The moment the doors opened, she was met with a gust of cool air, tinged with the familiar metallic scent of the city’s high-tech structures. And then she saw him.

Rohzivaan Mors.

Her mate. The man chosen by fate, the one who was supposed to stand beside her through war and peace, through life and death.

He stood at the edge of the docking bay, tall and imposing, his presence commanding yet warm.

His violet eyes found hers instantly, and the moment she stepped down from the ship, he moved, crossing the distance between them with urgency.

Before she could say a word, he pulled her into his embrace.

“You’re back,” he breathed against her hair, holding her tightly, as if reassuring himself that she was real.

Ahcehera did not move. She did not return the embrace.

She was frozen, her hands hovering slightly above his arms, unsure if she should push him away or let herself melt into the familiarity of his touch.

But that was the problem, his touch did not feel as familiar as it should have.

Why?

She had fought beside Rohzivaan countless times. She had trusted him with her life, with her plans, with the weight of their people’s future.

He had always been her greatest ally, her partner in war. Yet now, standing in his arms, she felt something she had never felt before.

Distance.

It was not physical, he was right there, holding her. And it was not logical, Rohzivaan had not changed. He was the same devoted man he had always been.

So why did it feel like something had shifted inside her?

Slowly, she placed her hands on his arms and stepped back.

His brows furrowed slightly, but he said nothing about it. Instead, he cupped her face gently, his thumbs brushing over her skin as he searched her gaze.

“You must be exhausted,” he said softly. “Come, let’s get you home.”

Home.

Ahcehera let out a quiet breath and nodded. “Yes. Let’s go home.”

But why did it feel like home was no longer where it used to be?

As they walked away, she cast one last glance at the starship behind her. Her reflection caught in the metallic sheen of the hull.

For the first time in years, she did not recognize the woman staring back at her.

That night, Ahcehera stood on the balcony of her chambers, staring at the endless skyline of Sinalta.

The towering spires of the city shimmered with artificial starlight, their neon hues reflecting off the glass surfaces.

It was a view she had seen a thousand times, a sight that once made her feel grounded. Yet tonight, it felt distant, almost foreign.

She inhaled deeply, the crisp air filling her lungs, but it did little to clear her mind.

The warmth of Rohzivaan’s embrace still lingered on her skin, yet it was not the comfort she had expected.

Instead, there was an unfamiliar weight pressing against her chest, something she couldn’t quite name.

Was it guilt?

No.

Doubt?

Perhaps.

She clenched the railing, her knuckles turning white. Why was she thinking like this? Why did she hesitate when Rohzivaan looked at her with the same unwavering devotion?

Why did the memory of a different pair of eyes, a cold, unreadable gaze, linger in her thoughts?

Archinsyne.

The name alone sent a strange unease through her. It wasn’t love, wasn’t longing, but it was something. Something that had taken root in the depths of her mind, refusing to be ignored.

She exhaled sharply. No. This was not the time to entertain foolish thoughts. She was Ahcehera Bloodstone, the kingdom’s strategist, the daughter of a powerful lineage.

Her emotions had no place in the decisions she had to make.

And yet, as she turned away from the balcony and stepped back inside, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something within her had already begun to change.

Sleep did not come easily that night. Ahcehera lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the dim glow of the city casting soft shadows across her room.

Every time she closed her eyes, flashes of the battlefield haunted her, the burning skies, the scent of blood, the relentless zerg tides.

But amidst the chaos, there was always a figure standing beside her.

Archinsyne.

His name echoed in her mind like a whisper she couldn’t silence.

She turned onto her side, gripping the silk sheets. She shouldn’t be thinking about him. Yet, for the first time in a long while, she felt… uncertain.