Smoke no longer curled from the shattered towers; Duskfall was quiet again—not the silence of tension or fear, but the kind that comes after a storm—the kind that let wounds breathe.
Lanterns glowed softly through the city. The streets were filled with laughter and music. Black banners lined the towers with Liam’s crest—symbol of a silver fist symbolizing strength.
Within the great hall, the dust from battles past had finally settled. Liam walked through the palace corridors, for once without weight on his shoulders. Selene waited for him in the garden courtyard where lilac trees swayed gently. Their petals fell softly to the stone path.
“Careful,” she said with a teasing smile, “they say the king-to-be is finally smiling again.”
“I am,” Liam admitted. “Because I have reasons to.”
S
