“Do not thank me. Use them.”
At sunset, Sabine stood on the balcony above the Blackwater with Lucien beside her.
The city stretched below, uncertain and restless.
Bells rang in confusion.
Some for union.
Some for emergency council.
Some for temple purification.
Some because no one knew which command to follow.
People gathered near the bridges.
Temple banners still hung, but some had been taken down.
Servants carried rumors faster than messengers.
Lucien looked at the circlet on her brow.
“How does it feel?”
“Heavy. Honest.”
He almost smiled.
“Like it is waiting to see what you do with it.”
“Yes.”
They stood in silence for a moment.
The Blackwater moved below them, dark and patient, carrying the reflection of a palace that had not yet decided whether it was celebrating or bleeding.
Lucien’s hand found hers on the balcony rail.
This time there was no table hiding it.
No council watching close enough to make it useful or dangerous.
Just the two of them, the river, the bells, and the first evening of a reign neither of them had wanted in this shape.
“I thought I had lost you in the chamber,” he said quietly.
“You waited.”
“Barely.”
“But you did. You trusted the timing and answered with me.”
He turned to face her.
“That is not rescue.”
“No. It is better.”
