Chapter 10 - A Kingdom Reborn
One year later, the winter frost had melted away to reveal lush green valleys surrounding the grand fortress of Aethelgard. The old political corruption that had plagued the northern packs was entirely eradicated; Duke Jackson and Gillian remained in lifelong confinement in the deep towers, stripped of their titles and influence, permanent reminders of the consequences of treachery.
In the royal private gardens overlooking the southern frontier, Chantal walked slowly along a stone pathway, her hand resting comfortably within Caden’s grip. The war with the southern packs had never materialized; once the southern lords witnessed the unyielding strength of the restored Valois-Montfort bloodline—and the unbreakable military alliance forged between Caden and Chantal—they had quickly sued for permanent peace.
"You're smiling," Caden noted softly, pulling her closer against his side as a gentle spring breeze rustled the blooming white roses around them.
"I was just thinking about the day you ordered me to the pyre," Chantal murmured, her dark eyes sparkling with amusement. "You looked entirely miserable."
Caden chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "I was miserable. My wolf was screaming at me, my council was demanding blood, and the woman I was destined to love was standing on a pile of firewood pretending she didn't care about a thing in the world."
"I did care," Chantal whispered, turning to face him, her arms sliding around his neck. "I cared enough to make sure you didn't have to fight your entire kingdom alone."
Caden wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him as he looked down into her warm, loving eyes. The fears of the past, the chains of silver and wolfsbane, and the heavy shadows of conspiracy were all distant memories now. Here, beneath the bright spring sun, Aethelgard was safe, unified, and prosperous under a true royal pair.
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"No more pyres," Caden promised, his voice thick with deep, unwavering devotion. "Only us."
Chantal smiled, leaning up to meet his lips in a tender, lingering kiss as the bells of Aethelgard rang out across the peaceful valleys, heralding a golden age that would last for a thousand years.
