Spotlights swept across a sea of people. Tens of thousands of voices merged into one, chanting a single name with almost religious fervor.
"KEIRA! KEIRA! KEIRA!KEIRA"
At the center of the massive stage, beneath flashes of silver and gold lights, stood a woman who seemed to belong entirely to this world.
Keira Genevieve Rose.
Her gown shimmered like fragments of fallen stars. Her hair was styled to perfection. The moment she lifted the microphone, the entire arena fell silent—without being told.
And then she began to sing.
Her voice filled the space strong, clear, wrapping around thousands of people at once.
But in a corner of the arena, where the stage lights did not reach
The air trembled softly.
A thin fracture split open between worlds.
From within it, several figures stepped through.
Black armor trimmed with silver. Long cloaks. An aura that did not belong to this century.
No one saw them.
No one heard the faint echo of their steps.
At the front of those shadows stood a man wearing a dark crown, his silver eyes far too sharp for the modern world.
King Alaric Valtherion.
Behind him, Sir Kael Dravenhart stood tall, a hand resting on the hilt of his sword despite the absence of any visible threat.
Lucien Armand Sylvaris observed the surroundings with calculating eyes.
And Duke Cassian Evermont…
watched the stage with a breath caught in his throat.
They were all frozen in place.
Because there—
Stood the woman who had died.
The woman they had buried with their own hands.
Now alive.
Radiant.
Loved by a world that had no idea who she truly was.
Alaric did not move.
His gaze locked onto Keira.
He did not see the thousands of fans.
He did not see the lights.
He did not see this unfamiliar world.
He saw only her.
And for the first time since that night in the palace
He saw Keira smiling without the weight of a kingdom upon her shoulders.
Without a crown.
Without wounds.
Cassian spoke quietly, his voice barely audible.
"She looks… happy."
The words struck harder than any blade.
Alaric did not answer.
Because he knew.
Here, Keira did not know betrayal.
Did not know cold distance.
Did not know the night she had been left alone in the silence of her chamber.
Sir Kael lowered his head slightly.
"Your Majesty… the time is near."
Lucien glanced toward the ceiling of the arena.
"The gate will not remain stable for long."
But Alaric remained still.
Keira reached the final high note.
The entire arena erupted into thunderous applause.
Thousands of tiny lights swayed like stars.
Cassian allowed himself a faint, almost bitter smile.
"This world has made her a goddess."
At last, Alaric spoke, his voice low.
"She always was."
The stage lights began to dim. The concert was over. The crowd slowly started to disperse.
Alaric closed his eyes for a brief moment.
The night he found her lifeless flashed across his mind.
Her cold hand.
The letter.
The silence of the chamber.
He opened his eyes again.
"Now," he said.
The air above the arena began to crack.
But this time.
Not for everyone.
Only for one hotel in penthouse room at the top of the city.
One hour later.
Keira sat in her room with Daniel Collin, dressed casually now, far removed from the glitter of the stage.
She did not know.
That outside her window, above the towering buildings, the fracture between worlds had opened once more.
And the man who had once been her husband…
had waited patiently until the final spotlight faded.
Because he did not want to take her from the stage.
He wanted to see her shine one last time.
Before bringing her home.