Chapter 14

The bells of New Camelot tolled across the twin suns.

Their sound was rich, deep — as if the heavens themselves honored what was to come. Down the marble avenues, crowds gathered, dressed in silks and banners woven with the gold and crimson of Emperor Arthur’s house and the deep violet of Taboo’s royal family.

Above them, the Palace of the Light gleamed — a tower of silver spires, glass bridges, and holy banners, perched like a monument to ambition against the cloudless sky.

Today, the empire would unite two worlds.

Today, the Emperor would wed the Princess of Taboo.

Inside the Hall of Unity, the wedding preparations unfolded like a dream.

Petals of star-roses floated through the air, carried by unseen currents. Choirs sang hymns older than the empire itself, voices braiding into a sound that seemed to stitch heaven and earth together.

Arthur stood at the altar, clad in white and gold armor, a ceremonial sword at his hip, his crown a simple circlet of burning light. His expression was carved from stone — regal, cold, unreadable.

The court stood behind him: generals, ministers, the priests of the Light, ambassadors from half the known galaxy.

The people of Taboo were there too, in their sharp violet tunics and veils, a quiet sea of foreign faces.

Then, the great doors opened.

And Princess Athena entered.

The hall breathed in.

She was beautiful — a vision carved from sorrow and duty. Her gown shimmered like a waterfall, threads of starlight woven through the fabric. A crown of black opals sat atop her dark hair, and her eyes — her eyes were heavy, carrying storms.

She walked slowly, every step measured, carrying the weight of a future she did not choose.

Behind her trailed King Keanu, broad and grim, his hand resting heavily on the hilt of his ceremonial blade.

As Athena approached, her gaze flickered — just once — to the empty seat in the first row.

The seat reserved for Harry.

For the Blue Swordfighter who would never sit there again.

A memory stabbed through her:

Harry laughing under the temple gardens.

Harry drawing his blade to defend her during the Siege of Light.

Harry falling, blood staining his sky-blue cloak, as the temple walls crumbled around them.

Athena swallowed the grief down, straightened her shoulders.

Duty first.

Always duty.

The High Priest of the Light raised his arms.

"By the blood of the first kings, by the stars that bore us, by the Light that binds all, we gather to witness this union."

The audience bowed their heads.

Arthur extended his hand toward Athena.

She hesitated — a pause so brief only the keenest eyes would catch it.

Then she placed her hand in his.

The ritual began.

Silver threads were wound around their wrists, ancient words spoken, vows exchanged not only between them but between planets, between peoples. The Empire and Taboo, forever bound.

Arthur's voice was steady as he recited his oath.

Athena’s voice trembled just once — when she spoke Harry’s name in her mind instead of Arthur’s.

When the ritual ended, the High Priest spoke:

"I present to you — Emperor Arthur and Empress Athena of the Unified Light!"

The hall exploded into applause, cheers, the clashing of bells and drums.

Arthur turned to her.

He leaned in — not to kiss her lips, but to gently touch his forehead to hers, a gesture of respect and alliance, not passion.

Athena closed her eyes.

For a moment, all she felt was the emptiness where Harry’s hand used to be.

Outside, the people sang and feasted, banners unfurling across the sky.

Inside, beneath the weight of gold and light, a young queen mourned.

And an emperor wondered — silently — if victory was worth the cost.