The cheers echoed like thunder down the palace steps, through the square, and across the broken city walls. For the first time in a long time, there was no command behind the noise—only hope.
Then, as the applause began to settle, a small voice rose just beneath it.
Timid.
Pure.
"Lady Anna?"
The crowd parted slightly as a little girl stepped forward, barely seven, with a thin braid down her back and wide, curious eyes. Her mother trailed behind her, hands gently resting on her shoulders but not stopping her.
I turned toward them and knelt so I could meet the child's gaze, the long golden gown folding like wings around me.
"Yes, little one?"
The girl swallowed, glancing at the still-glimmering hem of my dress.
"If you're not going to be queen… then who will protect us?" Her voice trembled, then steadied with surprising boldness."Why won't you rule us?"
The square fell silent again.
Even Kai, standing behind me, went still.
Her mother looked apologetic, stepping forward, but I raised my hand gently to stop her.
I placed my hand over the child's heart, warm and steady.
"Because you don't need someone above you," I said softly. "You need someone with you."
"I've seen what happens when rulers take thrones and forget the people beneath them. I won't do that."
"But I will protect you. I'll fight for you. And I'll help build a world where you and every child like you won't need a crown to be heard."
The girl looked down, thoughtful, then met my eyes again. "But you're already like a queen."
I smiled. "Maybe. But a true queen doesn't sit on a throne."
"She stands in the storm, and makes sure no one else has to."
The girl nodded slowly and leaned forward—wrapping her small arms around me in a soft hug.
The crowd exhaled as one.
Her mother stepped forward, tears in her eyes. "Thank you, Lady Anna. Truly."
I rose to my feet again, and the people saw me—not just in gold or light or legend.
But as one of them.
As the crowd murmured in warmth after the child's embrace, a different voice pierced the moment.
Sharper.
Displeased.
"This is madness."
Gasps followed as one of the nobles stepped out from the crowd—cloaked in deep blue silk, with silver rings on every finger and a permanent sneer carved into his face. His family crest glinted at his collar, one of the old lineages that had thrived under the Chief's rule.
"You ask us—those who have led, who have sacrificed, who've upheld order—to stand as equals to these… these peasants?" He gestured to the gathering with disdain, as if the people were little more than mud beneath his boots."What justice is that?"
A wave of unease passed through the crowd. The silence thickened. All eyes turned to me.
I didn't flinch.
I stepped forward, the golden dress catching the light, the rhinestones casting halos across the stone steps.
"Justice," I said clearly, "is not measured by your title or your inheritance. It is measured by your choices."
"And I have seen more courage in a child carrying water through rubble than in nobles hiding behind velvet and fear."
The noble's face twisted. "We were born to lead—"
"You were born like everyone else," I interrupted, voice like steel beneath silk. "The difference is you were taught to believe others were born to serve you."
"That ends today."
He opened his mouth again—but Kai stepped down beside me, his shadow falling over the man. His hand hovered just near the hilt of his blade, not threatening—reminding.
"You heard her," Kai said calmly. "There are no kings anymore. No gods in noble blood."
"If you want to help rebuild this kingdom, start by putting down your pride."
The noble stared between us. Then—slowly, resentfully—he stepped back, silence trailing behind him like a fading crown.
I turned again to the people and raised my voice for all to hear.
"This kingdom will not be ruled by old names or golden thrones."
"It will be shaped by all who live in it. Farmer. Healer. Soldier. Child. No more 'peasants.' No more walls between us."
And this time, when the crowd roared, it came from every direction.
Even a few nobles among them looked down—ashamed, uncertain—but changed.
The roar of the crowd still echoed through the square when I lifted my hand once more, asking for silence—not with force, but with presence.
The people quieted.
Even the nobles still standing near the hall leaned in, uncertain, waiting to see if they would be condemned or welcomed.
I let the moment settle—then spoke with clarity, conviction, and grace.
"To those of noble blood… those whose names once ruled this land from towers and walls..."
"If your hearts are true—if you believe in the life we could build together, not in the chains of the past—then I say this to you now."
I stepped forward, golden dress glinting in the broken light, the phoenix clasp over my heart glowing faintly.
"Come to me."
"Not with titles. Not with commands. But with open hands."
"If you have wealth, land, resources—then give them freely. Not to me. Not to a throne. But to the people who will rebuild this place into something new."
"If you once held power, and now want to hold purpose—then walk beside those you once overlooked."
"You are not owed authority here. But you are still offered belonging."
A hush settled again—deeper this time.
Then… movement.
Slowly, one older noble—her crest a faded silver oak—stepped forward. Her eyes were tired, but clear.
She bowed her head low.
"My lands lie north. They grow grain and apples in the good seasons. They belong to the people now."
Then another—a man with trembling hands but a firm jaw.
"I have gold. It built walls before. Let it build homes instead."
And one by one, they came.
Not all.
Not most.
But enough.
And that was where it began.
As nobles stepped forward, one by one, casting off pride for purpose, the energy in the square changed. What had started as a riot of uncertainty had become a blooming of possibility.
And then I felt it—his presence.
I turned slightly as Kai walked toward me, descending the last few steps from the palace doors where he had stood watching it all unfold.
He moved slowly, the flicker of firelight catching in the bronze of his armor, his cloak torn at the edge but still clinging to him like a shadow loyal to light. And yet, it wasn't his wounds or exhaustion that caught my attention.
It was his smile.
Faint.
Crooked.
But full of something rich and quiet—like he was watching the sun rise for the first time in years and wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.
He stopped at my side, close enough that the corner of his hand brushed mine, then leaned in slightly.
"You know," he said low enough for only me to hear, "I've seen you in torn battle leathers, bloodstained and furious…"
His eyes traveled over the radiant gown, the spirit-blessed light that still clung to me.
"But this?" he whispered with a smirk. "You're terrifying in gold."
I laughed softly, unable to stop the warmth rising in my chest.
"And yet you followed me across time anyway."
He didn't answer right away. His eyes lingered on the crowd, the nobles giving freely, the children watching wide-eyed, the guards laying down their weapons—not in defeat, but in peace.
Then, finally, he spoke—his voice lower this time, more serious.
"I followed you because… something told me you'd do exactly this. That you'd change everything."
He looked at me again, and for a flicker of a second, there was something unspoken in his gaze.
Something heavy.
Something he wasn't ready to say out loud just yet.
I met it with quiet understanding.
"You have that look," I said softly, "like you're holding onto something."
He nodded once, smile still ghosting his lips. "Maybe I am."
"But not tonight."
He looked back out over the city.
"Tonight… you lead."
And I did.
But I knew—as the fires dimmed and the stars returned—that whatever Kai was carrying inside him… it would find its way to the surface.
Soon.
The celebration began to fade as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of lavender and burnt orange. Lanterns were lit in the square, and people began clearing debris, some singing softly, others laughing for the first time in what felt like years.
But I felt it—the shift in Kai's energy.
Not heavy. Not dark.
Just… waiting.
So I turned to him, brushing my hand lightly against his as the last noble made their offering and the people turned back toward the rebuilding.
"Come with me," I said softly.
He didn't hesitate.
We slipped through the temple's side corridor, down the quiet path that led behind the old council hall—now a cracked, vine-laced ruin where the stars peeked through the broken ceiling.
There, under the open sky, far from the crowd, I finally stopped.
He leaned against one of the broken stone pillars, arms crossed, watching me with that same quiet smile.
"You looked like you were going to explode if you didn't say something," I teased gently.
Kai let out a breath of laughter, his eyes not leaving mine. "I still might."
I tilted my head, waiting.
He dropped his arms and stepped closer. His voice, when he finally spoke, was quieter than usual. No fire, no sarcasm.
Just him.
"When I saw you on that altar… wearing that dress, surrounded by people who didn't deserve you… I thought I was too late."
He looked down for a moment, jaw tight.
"And then I saw what you did. What you chose instead. How you turned a wedding into a revolution."
"Anna, you're… more than I imagined. Stronger. Wiser. And maybe more terrifying."
I smiled, but he wasn't done.
"But here's the thing that's been burning a hole in me since I stepped out of that portal."
He stepped forward, closing the distance, until only a breath stood between us.
"You've changed time, fate, a kingdom. But I don't want to lose what we were in the middle of all that."
"I came back for you not just because of the world—but because… you're my world too."
The stars above pulsed in silence.
I swallowed.
Words caught in my throat—not because I didn't feel something, but because I felt everything.
"Kai…"
He reached up, brushing a strand of my glowing pink hair behind my ear, his touch soft as memory.
"You don't have to say anything now," he said. "Just… don't shut me out when it matters."
I leaned into his touch.
"I won't," I whispered. "I couldn't, even if I tried."
The night closed in around us—not with fear, but with calm.
Two warriors. Two survivors. Two people still learning how to live after saving the world.
Together.
The wind whispered through the broken stone archways, and somewhere in the distance, music from the square floated on the night air. But none of it reached us—not really.
Here, under the open sky, it felt like time had stopped again.
Just for us.
Kai sat on the edge of the stone ledge, elbows resting on his knees. I sat beside him, the soft rustle of my enchanted gown brushing against the marble, my fingers trailing over the glowing feather brooch at my collar.
For a long moment, we didn't speak.
Then I did.
"There was a time I thought I'd never see you again," I admitted. "Back when everything collapsed. Back when I thought I'd lost Mary, and Sarah, and you… all at once."
Kai looked at me, his expression softer than I'd ever seen.
"I thought I'd lost you too," he said. "After we split ways, after I let you go... it haunted me."
He rubbed the back of his neck, his voice barely audible.
"I kept replaying that last moment in my head. The one where I didn't stop you. I told myself I trusted your path—but the truth? I was just scared."
I turned toward him fully. "Scared of what?"
He looked at me then. Really looked.
"That if I held on too tight… I'd break you. Or you'd vanish. And if I didn't hold on at all, I'd never see you again."
That truth struck somewhere deep in my chest—because it mirrored the exact thing I had never said out loud.
I reached for his hand. "You didn't lose me, Kai. Not really."
He laced his fingers through mine. "Maybe not. But I think… part of me's still afraid. Not of you leaving again. But of this—"
He paused.
"—us. Of what happens after the war ends. When there's no more enemies to fight. No more portals to chase. Just… life."
I nodded slowly. "I know that fear. I've lived in battle for so long, I don't remember what peace looks like without expecting something to break it."
The stars shimmered above us. A falling one streaked across the horizon, like a sign, or maybe a promise.
"But maybe," I said, "that's why we stay close. Not because we need each other to survive…"
I looked at him.
"But because we choose each other to live."
Kai's eyes glinted—not from the stars, but from something wet held just behind a smirk.
"You're really bad at casual conversations, you know that?"
I laughed. "So are you."
Then he leaned in, forehead brushing against mine.
"So… if we survive this kingdom, the politics, the rebuilding… what then?"
I smiled, my voice just above a whisper.
"Then we figure out what kind of world we want to build. Together."
His lips brushed mine—soft, unhurried, like a question he already knew the answer to.
And I answered him without words, just a hand over his heart, and mine over his.
Here.
Alive.
Together.