Chapter 9 - The Cleansing Fire
The following night, the sky above Richmond did not burn with the cold blue light of Inquisition suppression stones. Instead, a warm, golden glow radiated from the citadel spires as the ancient protective wards realigned themselves naturally with the restored balance of the bloodline.
Inside the grand courtyard, thousands of citizens had gathered, holding torches and lanterns, celebrating the miraculous recovery of Princess Evelyne. The great bells rang out across the valley, carrying the news over hills, rivers, and distant provinces.
Up on the high stone balcony overlooking the cheering multitude, King Alaric stood proudly, raising a silver goblet to toast the people.
To his right stood Princess Evelyne, wearing a magnificent gown of deep blue silk and silver embroidery—the very robe she had once hated, now worn with grace, strength, and absolute joy. She wasn't sitting in a wheeled chair; she stood tall, confident, and radiant, her hand resting comfortably over Rowan’s arm.
And standing beside her was Rowan. He had finally washed the mud from his bare feet and donned a clean, tailored tunic of dark wool, though he had refused any royal decorations or golden chains. He was, and always would be, a man of the wild, but now he had a home.
Down in the crowd, High Inquisitor Malakor and his remaining followers packed their horses into the shadows of the outer gate, realizing that no amount of council decrees or dark laws could ever sever a bond forged by destiny and true love. They rode away into the night, swallowed up by the very wilderness Rowan had once walked out of.
On the balcony, Alaric leaned over to his daughter, smiling through happy tears. “So, my girl… what do you say we take a walk through the royal gardens? Without any guards, and without any chairs.”
Evelyne laughed—a sound like silver chimes in the night breeze. “I would love nothing more, Father.”
She looked up at Rowan, whose dark eyes reflected the golden glow of the festival torches.
“Are you coming, Rowan?” she asked softly.
May you like
Rowan smiled, intertwining his fingers with hers. His travel-stained days were behind him, but his journey had only just begun.
“Always,” he said.
