The early summer dawn spilled over the mountains of Eastridge, warm but not scorching. Standing on a high platform, Evelynn gazed into Eastridge Town in the valley below—its blue-tiled roofs and white walls scented with osmanthus. Days earlier, she had led a delegation of officials to Eastridge, collaborating with the local council on two key livelihood projects: "canal reconstruction" and "granary reserve management." Today, back in the capital, she brought first-hand feedback from the people.
In the Royal Study, Evelynn outlined key points on the newly drafted Eastridge Tour Report with a brush. Lucian entered, holding a cup of warm tea. "Your Highness, how did the public sentiment from Eastridge fare?" She set down the brush, tracing the teacup's rim. "The people incline toward goodness, but canal construction is hindered by rugged terrain. Though grain reserves are now public, corruption along transport routes remains a risk. Next month, I will dispatch two 'Waterway Guard Units' and an 'Inspection Company' to supervise the projects personally." Her voice was calm, yet laced with unyielding resolve.
In the afternoon, envoys from the southern region—the sea merchant representative and members of the Church Restoration Committee—arrived at the Royal Study with the Southern Region Implementation Report. Delegates reported trade volume rebounding monthly, with the new Customs Commission regulations attracting foreign merchant fleets; the Restoration Committee had finalized reconstruction plans for three ancient churches, pending royal funding. Evelynn signed approvals one by one, stamping the "Holy Light Confederation" seal on the church restoration budget to ensure public transparency. In the ancestral hall, a believer trembled: "Thank you, Your Majesty the Queen and His Eminence the Bishop, for your justice. The south shall never again fear for faith or trade." All listeners marveled.
As the setting sun cast golden rays on the palace walls, Evelynn changed into a riding habit and mounted her familiar white-maned steed, riding alone along the Royal Garden's path. The night wind carried scents of flowers and grass, tossing her tired hair. Lucian emerged from the shadows, walking beside her. "Is a night ride advisable?" She turned, smiling. "I need air untainted by statutes—and to see the land by night." He nodded wordlessly, fastening her cloak tighter, accompanying her in silent moonlight strolls.
Arriving at the quiet Fountain Pavilion, the spring murmured, reflecting golden candlelight. Lucian unfastened his saber sheath, gently tapping the stone railing. "Does Your Highness still need my help to ease your worries?" Leaning on the railing, Evelynn's gaze softened. "Conversations today in Eastridge and the south showed me that beyond laws lie the people's hopes and burdens. Tomorrow, I must visit border counties to address their issues directly." She sighed, leaning closer. "I fear I have no strength left." Lucian stepped forward, embracing her, his voice hoarse yet firm: "Your power lies not in solitude, but in the trust and expectation you've inspired. Rest in my arms—let worries flow away with the spring tonight."
His fingers brushed her back, tracing the mark symbolizing royal blood and holy light, gentle as water. Evelynn closed her eyes, feeling warmth in her chest. "With you by my side, no storm can harm me." Lucian bent to kiss her neck, undoing the clasp of her cloak. Satin slipped away, bringing a coolness and anticipation. Night and spring song intertwined as they embraced on a soft tapestry, clothing falling away, lips and whispers echoing true vows.
Through the long night, they forgot the weight of their roles, leaving only each other's heartbeats and warmth.
At dawn, Evelynn woke to find Lucian sleeping peacefully beside her. She traced his brows, whispering: "A new journey awaits. Will you walk beside me again?" He opened his eyes slowly, filled with affection. "Until the end."