The siege lasted three days. Darius's remaining forces defended the walls desperately, but they were demoralized and outnumbered. On the third night, a group of citizens within the city opened the gates from the inside, choosing their rightful queen over the usurper.
Elara's army poured into the city, met with cheers from the populace who had suffered under Darius's cruel rule. But Elara had no time for celebration. Darius himself still remained, barricaded in the palace.
She made her way through the familiar halls, now marked by the scars of conflict. Every step brought back memories of her childhood, of happier times before the coup. The palace felt haunted, filled with ghosts of the past.
Kieran stayed at her side, refusing to let her face Darius alone.
They found him in the throne room, sitting on the very seat that had belonged to Elara's father. He looked older than she remembered, worn down by paranoia and the corrupting influence of dark magic.
"Princess Elara," Darius said, his voice bitter. "Come to reclaim your birthright?"
"I've come to end this," Elara said. "Your reign is over, Darius. Surrender, and I will grant you a fair trial."
Darius laughed, a harsh sound without humor. "A fair trial? From you? Your father would have done the same. He was weak. He would have led this kingdom to ruin."
"My father was a good man," Elara said, her voice hard. "And you murdered him. You murdered my entire family."
"I did what was necessary!" Darius shouted, rising from the throne. "This kingdom needs strength, not sentiment. I would have made Astoria great again!"
"You would have made it a nightmare," Elara countered. "You killed innocent people. You used dark magic. You sold your soul for power."
Darius's hand moved to his sword. "Then let us settle this the old way. You and me. Winner takes the throne."
Kieran moved to intervene, but Elara stopped him with a gesture. This was her fight. Her responsibility.
They dueled in the throne room where her family had once held court. Darius was skilled with a blade, trained by the same master who had taught Elara's father. But Elara had magic, and more importantly, she had purpose.
Their fight was brief but intense. Elara used her starlight not to kill, but to disarm, to disable. She didn't want to become like Darius, to let vengeance consume her.
In the end, she stood over him, her blade at his throat, his sword across the room.
"Do it," Darius spat. "Kill me. Prove you're just as ruthless as I am."
Elara looked at this man who had destroyed her life, who had killed everyone she loved. It would be so easy to end him. So satisfying.
But she thought of Kieran's words, of Aldric's teachings, of the kind of ruler she wanted to be.
"No," she said, lowering her blade. "You'll stand trial. You'll face justice. That's the difference between us, Darius. I don't rule through fear and death. I rule through law and mercy."
Guards came then, led by Sera, and took Darius away.
Elara stood alone in the throne room, looking at the seat that was now hers by right of blood and conquest. She felt Kieran's presence beside her.
"Ready to be queen?" he asked gently.
"No," Elara admitted. "But I'll do it anyway. Because they need me. Because this is who I'm meant to be."
She walked to the throne but didn't sit. Not yet. There was still much to do. A kingdom to rebuild. People to heal. A future to forge.
But for the first time since that terrible night when everything fell apart, Elara felt hope. Real, genuine hope for what came next.