[Lavinia's POV—March to the Imperial City]
We didn't waste a heartbeat at the border. The moment Kaelren's blood cooled on my blade, we marched—straight toward the Imperial City of Meren.
No.
Ex-Meren.
Now it belonged to Eloria.
My Eloria.
My remaining army moved in perfect formation—silent, disciplined, deadly. Not even armor dared to clatter. The only sound was the wind dragging cold fingers through the ruins behind us.
And ahead of us…Meren.
A kingdom still trembling. Still smoking from war. Still watching its doom ride closer with every step of my horse. As we descended the ridge, civilians trickled into the streets—hesitant shapes dragged out by fear stronger than sense.
Farmers with dirt-stained hands. Merchants clutching their coin pouches. Mothers shielding their children with trembling arms.
All staring at me. Not with curiosity. Not with hope. With pure, choking fear.
