The Queen of Vaelthane

The air was thick with anticipation. The banners of Vaelthane fluttered in the evening breeze, casting long shadows over the gathered crowd. The people had rebuilt, they had fought, and they had sworn loyalty to Kael. But tonight, they were here for something more.

Tonight, Vaelthane would have a queen.

Kael stood at the steps of the grand hall, his expression unreadable as he gazed over the people who had come to witness history. His soldiers stood at attention, the healers of the kingdom lined the sides, and in the distance, bells tolled in slow, solemn rhythm.

And then, she stepped forward.

Fenir.

Draped in dark silver and deep blue, the colors of Vaelthane, she moved with a quiet power. No longer a beast, no longer just a warrior—she was something more. The people whispered as she passed, recognizing the fierce woman who had stood beside their king through war and ruin.

Kael met her gaze as she ascended the steps. His pulse thundered in his ears, not just from duty, not just from what was expected—but because he knew this was right.

Fenir stopped before him, tilting her head slightly. "A queen, Kael?" she murmured, a teasing edge to her voice. "I never imagined myself one."

His lips curled into a smirk. "Neither did I. But Vaelthane needs more than a king. It needs someone strong, someone who understands power, someone who will fight for it as fiercely as I do."

She studied him for a long moment, then exhaled. "And you're sure I am that person?"

Kael's voice was steady. "You were always meant to be."

The High Council of Vaelthane, those who had once doubted Kael, now stood before him, prepared to acknowledge Fenir's place. The ceremony was not one of fragile traditions but one forged in fire and blood.

Kael took her hand, lifting it before the people. "Vaelthane has risen. And now, it has a queen."

The roar of the people echoed into the night.

And the world would remember this day.