The wind in the South was warr.
It carried the scent of the sea and dry grass, so different from the cold air of the royal city.
By the ti Edward and the few n who remained loyal to him reached the gates of the Seventh Region, their clothes were covered in dust. Their horses were tired. So were they.
Before them stood the tall stone gates of the southern stronghold. Banners fluttered above the walls, marked with the sigil of the southern lord.
Edward pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. Though he tried to sit straight on his horse, the long journey had worn him down.
As they approached, the guards on the walls noticed them.
"Stop right there!" one of the gate guards shouted.
Several ard n stepped forward, blocking the entrance with their spears.
"State your nas and purpose!" another demanded.
Edward’s n exchanged uneasy looks. They were no longer dressed like a royal army. They looked like wandering soldiers. This they did to avoid Ernest n who pursue them.
To stay safe they had temporary cut of all contacts from the royal city so they had no idea what the current situation is.
Edward slowly removed his hood.
"I am Edward," he said firmly. "king of Nexile Open the gates."
The guards did not move.
One of them narrowed his eyes. "We need proof."
Edward’s jaw tightened. For a mont, anger flashed across his face. Once, no one would have dared question him. He travels with such much grace.
But this was no longer the capital and given Ernest move he had no choice but to travel in disguise.
"Would they let us in?" Dorothy holding their sleeping son asked. She never expected to face such fate shortly before becoming queen.
Edward looked at her and his son, he then carefully, he removed the signet ring from his finger and held it up. The royal seal glinted under the sunlight.
The captain of the gate stepped closer. He studied Edward’s face, then the ring.
His expression changed.
He imdiately dropped to one knee.
"It is truly His Majesty," he said loudly.
The other guards quickly followed, kneeling.
"Forgive us for the delay," the captain said. "We had to be certain."
Edward lowered his hand slowly. He missed this feeling—n kneeling before him.
"Open the gates," the captain ordered at once.
The heavy doors creaked as they were pulled apart. Seeing their welco, Edward was imdiately pleased that Ernest influenced had not reached the south.
Edward and his n rode inside. Dorothy was pleased to see this.
Word spread quickly through the southern stronghold.
The king had arrived.
Servants rushed to prepare guest chambers. Soldiers lined up to show respect. The southern commander ca out personally to greet him.
"Your Majesty," the commander said with a deep bow. "We received no ssage of your arrival. Had we known, we would have prepared a proper welco."
Edward dismounted his horse. His legs felt stiff when his boots touched the ground.
"There was no ti to send word," he replied. "The capital has fallen. I am sure you are aware.
A brief silence followed.
The southern commander’s lowered his face.
"We heard rumors," he said carefully. "We did not know they were true."
Edward looked toward the inner fortress.
"I will need n," he said plainly. "And loyalty."
The commander straightened. "The South remains loyal to the crown."
Edward’s eyes hardened slightly.
"To ," he corrected.
The commander paused only for a heartbeat before bowing again.
"To you, Your Majesty." he smiled lightly.
Edward walked forward, Dorothy following behind him quickly.
Hearing that the south was still loyal they all had renewed hope
He had lost the capital.
The South was his last hope to getting back all he had lost.
The Seventh Region closed behind him, he told himself one thing—
.....
Anastasia’s carriage stopped in front of the monastery.
The gates opened at once when the sisters recognized the royal crest. A few nuns bowed respectfully as she stepped down.
"Your Highness," the Mother Superior greeted her warmly. "You honor us with your visit."
Anastasia gave a gentle nod. "I have co to see Rosalind."
Rosalind was called out shortly after.
She walked into the courtyard in her simple gray robes, her head covered, her steps calm. When she saw Anastasia, she bowed politely.
"Your Highness."
Anastasia stepped forward. "There is no need to be so distant."
Rosalind gave a small smile but remained respectful.
"I hope you have been well," Anastasia said.
"I have," Rosalind replied. "The sisters have treated kindly."
Anastasia looked around briefly, then returned her gaze to Rosalind.
"Ernest will soon be crowned king," she said plainly. "When that happens, the court will be reshaped. I have co to offer you a place again. Your title can be restored. You can return as a noble lady."
The courtyard grew quiet.
So of the sisters lowered their eyes.
Rosalind did not answer imdiately.
"My life here is peaceful," she finally said. She had co to the monastery because it was the only way to escape the fate of marrying into the palace but now she loved the peaceful life here. No unhealthy competition, no hidden sche just a peaceful life serving God and others.
"You can still live peacefully at court," Anastasia said. "You would not be forced into anything. You would have protection and respect."
Rosalind looked at her calmly.
"I do not wish to return as a lady," she said softly. "But I am willing to leave the monastery."
Anastasia’s eyes shifted slightly. "What do you an?"
"I will continue as a nun," Rosalind replied. "If you allow it, I will serve in the royal chapel. I will live simply there, just as I do here."
Anastasia studied her face.
There was no hesitation.
No hidden desire.
Only certainty.
"You would give up your title willingly?" Anastasia asked.
"i gave that up the day I stepped in here," Rosalind answered.
A short silence passed.
Then Anastasia nodded.
"Very well. You will serve in the royal chapel. This is a good choice, we can be sisters and friends."
Rosalind bowed her head again.
"Thank you, Your Highness." Rosalind felt that her choice to be friends with Anastasia was right.
....
Trumpets sounded at the western gate of the royal city.
Preparations for Ernest’s coronation were already in full swing. Banners in his colors hung from balconies. Workers hurried across the main square, building platforms and polishing statues. Nobles and lords from all six regions arriving to show their support.
In the middle of this busy scene, another procession entered the city.
Prince Lucan and his wife, Princess Karen.
They were brought back under Ernest’s guard.
A line of ard soldiers rode before and behind their carriage. The people standing by the roadside whispered as it passed.
"Is that Prince Lucan?"
"Yes... and his wife."
"They have been missing for so long," soone said.
"I heard it was the forr king’s doing," another said.
"He tried to kill his brother for the throne how evil. It is no wonder God rejected him,"
"True," soone agreed.
"Like father like son," people began to curse the late king and Edward.
The carriage door opened once the procession reached the inner palace gates.
Lucan stepped down first.
He looked thinner than before, but his back was straight. His eyes quickly took in the changes around him—the new banners, the extra guards, the movent everywhere.
Princess Karen ca down with her son from the next carriage. The two were not allowed to ride on sa carriage to prevent accidents
She held her head high, though her fingers tightened slightly around her son. She could feel the weight of many eyes on her.
The captain of the guard bowed stiffly.
"His Majesty—" he corrected himself quickly, "his highness prince Ernest has ordered that you be escorted safely to your quarters."
Lucan gave a short nod. "We understand."
They were led inside the palace grounds.
Servants bowed, but cautiously. No one knew what position Lucan would now hold. Brother to the forr king. Son of the forr Queen Mother. A prince without power.
At almost the sa ti, another carriage approached from the east road.
The forr Queen Mother.
Her return was quieter, but no less important.
Although she only left the palace for a few months she seems to have aged a decade.
The journey had not been easy, and the fall of her son’s rule had weighed heavily on her. When her carriage stopped, she did not step out imdiately.
A maid helped her down carefully.
She looked at the palace gates for a long mont.
Once, she ruled as a queen but ..
Now she returned under guard.
Not as Queen Mother of a reigning king—
But as the mother of a fallen one.
The gates opened for her as well.
Inside the palace, preparations for the coronation did not slow.
Gold cloth was being asured in the grand hall.
The throne platform was being reinforced.
Invitations were being sealed with wax.
Life moved forward quickly.
Prince Lucan and Princess Karen were settled into a side wing.
The forr Queen Mother was given her old residence, apart from Miss Margaret the others around her were strangers.
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