The grand gates of the imperial capital opened with a flourish as Kyle returned—calm, composed, and far too silent for a man who had just battled and outlasted gods.
Trumpets sounded, and soldiers lined up in perfect ranks to salute him, but Kyle barely registered any of it.
His golden eyes swept across the crowd, stopping only when they landed on the figures waiting at the steps of the palace.
At the top stood Crown Prince Mikalius, clad in ceremonial armor lined with crimson and silver, the sun glinting off his polished pauldrons.
And beside him, radiant and proud, stood Grand Duchess Amana—now no longer just the noble who had once manipulated him into a political alliance, but his wife in truth.
Amana stepped forward first. She didn't hesitate. Her hand extended toward him, the wind tugging gently at her royal blue cloak, her expression unreadable to most but clear to Kyle.
"Welcome back. To my side."
She said, her voice soft but firm.
