Far away, in Château de Brissac, Queen Isabella's laughter filled the halls as she opened the book Henry had given her.
But the moment her fingers touched its pages, the laughter stopped.
The false Crimson crumbled to ash in her hands.
The runes she had sought for years turned black, smoke rising from the dying script.
"No…" she hissed. "No!"
Her ministers stepped back in terror as the ash scattered into the air, leaving only silence.
Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled — but this time, it sounded almost like the roar of fate itself.
---
That night, at Chambord, the siblings stood on the balcony overlooking the dawn. The war was not yet over — Isabella's armies would march again — but for the first time in months, there was peace in their hearts.
Famoura leaned against the stone rail, her brother beside her.
"You risked everything," Henry said softly.
"So did you," she replied. "You faced her without fear."
He smiled faintly. "You're the brave one."
"No," she said, looking toward the horizon. "We both are. That's why we'll win."
The wind carried their words into the distance — over rivers, forests, and battlefields — whispering the tale of two siblings who defied a queen and protected a power greater than any throne.
And though war still waited beyond the hills, for that brief, fragile dawn, the kingdom breathed again.