By the time Claudia returned to her home of Avianoia from the deserts of Sharavia, winter had deepened its grip on the royal capital. A delicate veil of snow covered the city.
The gown Noah had woven for her with magic was a deep emerald and adorned with charcoal-gray fur. Enchanted to provide warmth, it allowed her to walk through the palace halls in comfort, the hem of her dress fluttering with every step.
She was now standing before her father with arms full of gifts.
“Father! I brought you souvenirs!”
Volkhard, seated upon his throne with his cheek propped lazily against one hand, regarded her in silence as she deposited the gifts unceremoniously onto his lap.
The court conjurers at his side, however, looked far less composed. Their expressions were strained, as though fearing some arcane catastrophe would suddenly explode from within the packages.
“My journey to Sharavia was so much fun! There were enormous snakes—oh, and dragons too! And the whole city glittered like gold, just like the sun!”
“I see. And did you seize the opportunity to survey an optimal route for a possible invasion?”
“Father! I wouldn’t do that. I went to have fun!”
“How dull.” With detached interest, he sifted through the gifts, the faintest smirk curving his lips. “I must say, I would prefer a tale of the golden bird that appeared rather than accounts of serpents and dragons.”
Claudia merely tilted her head with a cherubic grin. “I was sleeping sooo soundly that I didn’t see a thing.”
It was unlikely that the gathered conjurers would notice that their exchange was contrived, and that each was able to see through the other’s words—except for one. Karlheinz rubbed his temples in visible exasperation as he watched them.
To him, Claudia extended a small parcel. “Here! This one’s for you.”
“What’s this, Your Highness?”
“A shed snakeskin! It’s supposed to bring wealth!”
“I shall accept it with gratitude,” he replied, though his face remained inscrutable.
Pleased with his reaction, Claudia turned back to her father.
“In Sharavia, they have something called a harem, and the young ladies there studied and refined their skills. It reminded me of the academy I attended when I was ten. I had such a wonderful time learning back then.”
“Hmm,” Volkhard said thoughtfully.
“Father, if I work hard to grow and develop my skills, would that make you happy?”
The king snorted, as if the answer were obvious. “What parent would not take pride in the achievements of their child?”
“Then I shall do my best!”
From among the mountain of packages now occupying his lap, Claudia pointed to the smallest box.
“Open that one last. And when you do, make sure Karlheinz is with you.”
“Why?” He arched his brow. “Does it have some strange enchantment that is only dispelled under such a highly specific condition?”
No, but it will buy me some time.
Claudia’s eyes twinkled as she offered no explanation. Turning gracefully on her heel, she strode toward the great double doors of the audience chamber.
“See you later, Father! And you too, Karlheinz! I’m going back to my tower for a nap.”
“Your Highness?” Karlheinz called after her. “Are you not going to visit your brothers?”
“Nope! I’ll be back soon enough anyway.”
With a carefree laugh, she walked toward the threshold, pausing only once to glance back and offer a small wave.
Waiting for her in the hallway just beyond the doors stood a familiar figure.
“Noah.”
“At your service.”
Noah extended his hand, ready to escort her.
As she took it, just before the teleportation spell whisked them away, Claudia murmured a single word.
“Goodbye.”
Noah cast his gaze downward as the spell took hold.
They returned to the tower hidden deep within the forest, the only home Claudia had ever truly known. Though she seldom visited, it remained the sanctuary where she had been raised after her exile as an infant, where she had dwelled even after the memories of her past life had awoken.
“Please, take a seat, Your Highness.”
“Thank you.”
“I shall prepare tea. His Majesty has, no doubt, already surmised your involvement in the events at Sharavia.”
At this, Claudia merely chuckled, lifting her shoulders in a shrug.
Many had witnessed the golden bird that had emerged over the desert city. Tales had spread of its monstrous form being felled by a surge of magic and the cursed light that had ensnared the capital vanishing in an instant.
People spoke in hushed voices of their fears that the fabled treasure of the royal family, the Golden Falcon, upon which their kingdom’s prosperity relied, had been destroyed.
Yet, amid these murmurs of doubt, a single woman had appeared and spoken to no one in particular.
“How dreadful. That such a creature should reveal itself under an ill-omened lunar eclipse. Could it be that the Golden Falcon was never a blessing at all, but a curse in disguise?”
Like wildfire, agreement spread. It was not long before the whispers turned to speculation about who had destroyed the Golden Falcon.
“The Golden Falcon showed its true form on the night of the eclipse,” someone murmured, “and yet, His Majesty foresaw its danger.”
“To think, he left the palace in secret, placing a double in his stead, to deal with it without spreading panic!”
“He knew the curse would reach its peak under the eclipse, and he struck it down at precisely the right moment! Were it not for his actions, all may have been lost!”
“And he stood side by side with his betrothed, Lady Naila, each protecting the other. Truly, what a formidable pair!”
King Ashbal himself had eventually come out and addressed his people directly.
“Until now,” he proclaimed, “our kingdom has relied on the gold bestowed by the Golden Falcon, believing it to be our salvation. But I tell you this—I, who was raised among you and walked the very streets you walk, have witnessed with my own eyes the strength of our people. Your spirits shine as brightly as the sun and are unbowed by even the fiercest of sandstorms.”
The gathered citizens stood spellbound, eyes glued to their young sovereign above as they nodded along. His words were not those of some distant monarch, but of a man who had known their struggles, who had lived their hardships alongside them.
“Each and every one of you possesses worth far beyond mere gold,” he continued. “And if we stand together, then not a single soul shall be left to starve or suffer! We shall forge a land brighter than the very sun, even if we do not have the Golden Falcon!”
With that said, King Ashbal smiled.
It was not the expression of a ruler sneering at his subjects, but of a man gazing with pride upon those he called his own.
“That, my people,” he said, sweeping a hand before him, “will be our true city of gold.”
A roar of thunderous applause followed.
“Long live King Ashbal, the Sun King!”
“Glory be to his reign! May it be as prosperous and brilliant as the sun!”
From where she stood at the back of the platform, a lone woman stepped forward. Ashbal turned to face her, and for a moment, they stood together, their gazes locked, each drawing strength from the other.
At the sight of them, standing as one, the crowd swelled with renewed fervor.
“Blessings upon King Ashbal and his future consort, Lady Naila!”