“Long live the Conqueror.”
The cry followed Lucian through the palace gates.
Not his name.
Not Albert’s.
Hers.
The people of Ravencrest repeated it until the black stone courtyards carried the sound into every corridor Lucian had once ruled.
General Vesper rode beneath no crown.
She needed none.
An old woman’s blanket rested across Evelyn’s forearm as she dismounted. Gray wool against dark uniform. A civilian gift accepted before soldiers, nobles, and two Alphas.
Albert watched her.
Lucian watched him understand.
Greyhaven could claim Ravencrest in law. Albert could place a crown on his head and force every surviving house to bow.
The city had already chosen whom it believed had ended the war.
Evelyn handed the blanket to Garrick with instructions Lucian could not hear. Her ga
