The late spring night wind carries the cool scent of evening primrose through the Royal Garden, where moonlight spills like silk over neatly trimmed roses and wisteria. Though the capital has entered a brief lull after the "Covenant of All People" celebrations, true peace remains elusive. Evelynn and Lucian stroll along the garden's stone path, checking that Silver Oath sentries on night patrol stand steady in formation.
"Your Highness," Lucian murmurs, "While the pilot programs in Eastridge and Luo Han have succeeded brilliantly, rumors are quietly spreading in the southern region: some claim the 'Universal Participation Decree' is mere bait, that real decisions still lie within the palace." His brows furrow.
Evelynn stops beneath a blooming wisteria, gently touching its flowers. "Rumors always have roots. Today I must uncover who sows them to quell this once and for all." She turns, her gaze star-bright. "In the coming days, I will meet personally with return delegations from the south and Eastridge, collect genuine feedback, and publicize the results—leaving rumors nowhere to hide."
Lucian takes her hand, his voice tender yet firm. "I walk with you, to keep you safe." He fastens a small silver emblem to her lapel. "This will let you roam among the people incognito as a 'Covenant visitor,' making it easier to uncover truth."
Following flower shadows deeper into the rear garden, several spies in simple civilian clothes have waited for hours. Mei Xia steps forward with the latest street rumor report. "Your Highness, small-scale private discussions have arisen among southern merchant guilds and within the Church, questioning whether the 'Participation Decree' should require 'neighborhood bulletin boards' for greater oversight." Evelynn nods. "Good—amend the decree on this point first. All doubts will be addressed publicly on the boards, so every voice is seen."
Deep in night, candlelight still burns in the royal secret council chamber. After lengthy deliberations, Evelynn and Lucian return to the Fountain Pavilion. Mist curls around the spring as she hands him today's collected folk songs and draft proposals. "New feedback and suggestions arrive daily, but I refuse to let governance stagnate. We must strike the best balance between efficiency and equity."
Lucian draws her into his embrace, murmuring to ease her weariness. "Your Highness, if you need a moment's respite, losing yourself in this sea of flowers is enough to reclaim strength and faith." As he speaks, his fingers undo the silk robe's clasps on her shoulders, baring snow-white skin that trembles gently in moonlight.
Evelynn closes her eyes, letting his fingertips glide over her shoulders, back, and neck, transforming all worries into the tenderness of a kiss. Her hands circle his neck, fingertips brushing the Holy Light crest on his chest. "Beyond covenant with the people, I need to cling to your heart." In whispered tones, she sheds her last defenses, a white rose in morning dew trusting her softest secrets to him.
The spring's murmur, wind's sigh, and their quiet breaths weave through the night as garden whispers seem to bless this monarch and war god who save each other. When the first birdcall breaks the silence at dawn, their hearts stand firmer, and the capital's future shines brighter.