Dawn's first light filtered through the glazed windows of the palace's south wing, spilling onto the newly restored square before the Hall of Gold and Stone. Since the formal implementation of The Throne and Sacred Right Ordinance, regional councils had grown increasingly active, bringing initial results to the city: improved street security, publicized grain reserves, and even historically indifferent merchants now volunteering for public affairs. Evelynn felt ,yet knew the true trials had only just begun.
Clad in a plain silver ceremonial robe with a holy light emblem at her waist, she entered the morning assembly. Lucian followed closely, draped in a deep blue military uniform, his gaze alert as he scanned the officials in the hall. The agenda opened with reports with reports on implementations from each jurisdiction. The Earl of Eastridge spoke first: "Your Highness, since the nobility's taxes were made public, instances of corruption have dropped significantly, boosting popular morale. The original territorial patrols have also been reorganized into 'Local Guard Regiments' per the new law, with remarkable results."
The representative of southern sea merchants was called to the stage again. Nervous yet candid, he said: "The new tariff system caused short-term fluctuations in southern trade, but we've adjusted shipping routes per the Customs Commission's recommendations. Normalcy should resume next month, and the increased transparency may even attract more foreign merchants." All present nodded in approval.
During the meeting, a civilian representative raised the issue of unequal enforcement in grassroots judicial cases. Evelynn's expression turned solemn; she promptly announced the establishment of "Grassroots Hearing Halls," allowing more citizens to appeal directly to chief justices and local magistrates. Her decisiveness and fairness won unanimous approval.
After the meeting, Evelynn and Lucian strolled shoulder-to-shoulder to the rose garden in the Royal Garden. Morning dew lingered, blending the fragrance of roses with the earth's scent. Lucian handed her a cup of light rose tea: "The new laws have been implemented smoothly—your wisdom is admirable." Evelynn sipped it, smiling softly: "Smooth doesn't mean easy. The real test is making people trust the system, not rely on personal favor or authority." She set down the cup, leaning against his broad shoulder, her voice growing tender: "Thank you for always being by my side, sharing these burdens."
As night fell again, in the Fountain Pavilion of the palace's secret garden, candlelight and the sound of flowing water wove a quiet melody. Evelynn changed into a moon-white silk robe, its hem fluttering to reveal a different kind of tenderness since she took power. Lucian gently draped a gauze shawl over her shoulders, his voice low yet warm: "Your Highness, tonight's council will discuss the 'Church Restoration Fund.' Have you formed a decision?" Evelynn nodded: "Transparency remains paramount. The fund should be overseen jointly by the Holy See and elected representatives to avoid past abuses of clerical puppetry." She paused, her gaze softening on Lucian. "Since we're on affairs of state... and matters of the heart—tonight, may I forget all statutes and simply be a woman craving warmth?"
Lucian understood, taking her hand and leading her deeper into the Fountain Pavilion. Water murmured in the pavilion, candlelight flickered on the fountain's surface, reflecting their silhouettes. He bowed his head to kiss her lips, gentle as water. Evelynn embraced him tighter, her fingertips gliding over the emblem on his chest, feeling its solidity and warmth. Silk robes slipped open; by candlelight they clung together, softness and passion intertwining, forgetting the throne's weight.
In the dead of night, as the fountain still sang, they wove a chapter beyond the new code with their most sincere whispers and embraces—a chapter where, beyond systems and power, their warmth and trust in each other endured.