Liam gave a small nod, his jaw clenched in quiet acknowledgment. He wasn't the best with words when it came to emotional moments like this—but his silence said enough. He respected her. He had heard her. And he was grateful.
Together, they both rose to their feet, the air was still heavy with the weight of ancient power, but something between them had shifted—some invisible current now flowing with mutual understanding. No more mistrust. No more animosity. Whatever came next, they would face it not as enemies, not even as strangers, but as survivors who had earned each other's respect.
Liam turned back toward the altar, his gaze fixing on the glowing treasure once more. It still shimmered, untouched, unmoved, as if it had been waiting centuries just for this moment. He took a slow step forward, then another, the sound of his boots echoing faintly off the chamber walls.
The queen remained behind him, watching in silence, her expression unreadable.
