The early spring wind drifted gently into the imperial garden through the palace's stone arches, carrying the crispness of freshly melted snow. Evelyn stood where the snow had thawed, her hand brushing the royal blood insignia atop her scepter. Her gaze crossed the spring and settled on the distant "Hall of Sacred Law"—a chamber where new laws for all had once been decreed, and regulations for the Holy Light's involvement revised. Now, it needed purification once more, tainted by the remnants of hidden tides.
Lucian approached with Meixia and Ilea, reporting in a low voice: "Residual ancient incantations have been found in the Hall of Sacred Law, suspected to be a revised version of the 'Crimson Moon Curse.' They hint that someone seeks to rebuild old systems under the guise of new laws. Chancellor Gu has had the hall doors locked; no one may enter without permission."
Evelyn's brows furrowed. She tapped the stone steps with her scepter. "Since this place concerns the public trust in our laws, we shall perform the 'Ritual of Severance' here today—using royal blood and the fire of Holy Light to utterly dissolve the remnants of old curses, then establish a new chapter of sacred law for all." She turned to Lucian. "You and Meixia guard the outer gates. Ilea and I will enter together to ensure nothing is overlooked."
Lucian nodded in reverence. "I await your command, and shall keep the hall safe without fail."
The hall doors creaked open beneath the sigils of the Holy Shield. Ancient fragments of sacred hymns and new legal codes were carved side by side on the stone pillars. Evelyn, wielding her royal flame scepter, stepped inside. Ilea climbed the high platform and spread a tattered old scripture before the Holy Fire Furnace.
The queen's voice rang clear: "This is the old law established by Lachlian's saints through the ages, yet it was abused by a few, fracturing our faith and the people's hearts. Today, with royal blood as seal and Holy Light as witness, we sever its old covenants and establish entirely new sacred law."
She touched the tip of her scepter to the old scripture. White flames erupted, surging like a spring; ancient curses crumbled to ash in the blaze. Ilea promptly handed over the new legal code. Evelyn 划破 the title page with a drop of her blood, and the new chapter was branded by Holy Fire: "The sacred law of all shall be rooted in justice and trust, rejecting all fear and manipulation."
After the ritual, Lucian returned with news: an unfinished old mural had been found in the hall's rear corridor, depicting a cracked bone scripture and a flame-dancing altar—hinting that the "White Seal Envoy" had plotted deeper conspiracies. Evelyn took the sketch, her gaze cold. "If this mural is not eradicated, it will become a seed spreading in the future. Tomorrow, all ancient relics in the palace must be thoroughly inspected to sweep away every last trace."
She glanced back at the Hall of Sacred Law, her figure as steadfast as a pine on a rocky cliff. "Though the envoy is destroyed, the remains. Only by forging Holy Light and the people's hearts together can we forever seal the rifts."
Night fell again. The Spring Pavilion in the imperial garden was bathed in both ice and candlelight. Evelyn wore a deep blue nightgown, her snow-white skin like frost-kissed jade beneath the moon. Lucian appeared silently, drawing her tightly into his arms. "Your Highness," he murmured, "today's severance of sacred law has reshaped the kingdom's trust—but it has also drained your strength once more."
Evelyn nestled against his chest, her voice soft. "Only in your arms can I lay down the crown and find myself again."
He undid the silver clasp at her gown's chest, his lips and tongue brushing her neck, his fingertips trailing the collarbone that trembled faintly from war and weariness. Evelyn's breath hitched; she looped her arms around his neck, her fingers undoing the buttons of his midnight-blue military robe.
Candlelight and spring water shimmered in harmony, their skin glowing in the night and snow-moistened air. Lucian's kisses deepened from gentle to fervent, his fingertips and lips weaving love and devotion. In his warm embrace, Evelyn closed her eyes and sighed, letting go of all fatigue and scheming.
As their passion peaked once more, the wind outside the snow curtain seemed to whisper blessings, and the spring's murmur sang like a sacred hymn. In their sincere embrace and passionate kisses, they wrote the most intimate covenant: no matter how sacred laws evolved, the honesty between their hearts would remain the eternal foundation of the kingdom.
Deep into the night, the candle flame dimmed, and snow shadows fell over their intertwined forms—witness to the thawing and rebirth of royal power and love in this seventy-fifth chapter.