The castle interior had changed too. Once cold and filled with stone echoes, it now radiated warmth. Banners of deep blue and silver hung from tall pillars, and golden sunlight streamed in through stained glass windows depicting scenes of unity, courage, and rebirth. Guards stood straighter, servants moved with purpose, and nobles bowed respectfully as Leon passed.
He could tell this wasn't out of fear—it was out of respect.
In the throne hall, a grand circular table was already prepared. Luna took her seat at the center, with Leon at her right. The other seats slowly filled with trusted knights, advisors, and key figures from the city. Among them was Dren, his usual carefree grin slightly more serious than usual, and Marian, quiet but ever-watchful.
Roselia wasn't present—still recovering—but Myria stood near the back, arms crossed, her eyes locked on Leon.
