The walls of Arpa, specifically the innermost first wall from the inside that normally separated and protected the nobles, wealthy merchants, and royalty from the rest of the city's population, were now decorated with a grim new addition—the corpses of traitors hanging prominently from it. There were fifty-three bodies in total, a sobering number that represented the full extent of the conspiracy against Arvid's rule. As soon as they had been publicly hanged in the late afternoon, even before the sun had fully gone down beneath the horizon, different kinds of carrion scavengers had already gathered around the display. Birds and other creatures picked eagerly at the exposed flesh of the hanging corpses, nature beginning its inevitable work of reclamation. They seemed to especially love to poke and tear at the eyes of the bodies, eyes that remained opened wide in death, forever depicting the pure horror those men had experienced in their final moments.
And the massive gates to the magnificent city of Arpa had finally opened with loud, centuries-old groans of ancient metal hinges and mechanisms that hadn't been used in weeks. The gates swung wide, allowing the Imperial Army that had been camped patiently outside to finally enter their own capital city. The common people of Arpa—those who lived and worked in the outer districts—had gathered eagerly around both sides of the main roads leading into the city center. They stood there clamoring with genuinely happy smiles on their faces, relief and joy evident in their expressions.
"The emperor is back! Our emperor has returned!" they talked excitedly amongst themselves, the news spreading like wildfire through the crowd. They were genuinely happy to see Arvid return. So in their enthusiasm, they hastily prepared traditional welcome offerings—fragrant flower petals of various colors and freshly popped roasted rice—and spread these items generously across the path as the Army walked past them in formal procession. It was an ancient custom signifying respect, celebration, and the honoring of an important person's arrival.
"Welcome back, Your Majesty!" they yelled out in unison, their voices combining into a thunderous roar of approval and affection. They wore broad, happy smiles on their faces and yelled louder and louder as Arvid drew closer, trying to make sure he could hear their loyalty and devotion over the general noise.
Arvid rode at the head of the procession on his sturdy onyx steed, a magnificent black horse that had carried him through countless battles and journeys. He wore his full ceremonial military armor, the glorious suit made of carefully crafted and polished metal that gleamed brilliantly in the light. He held his ornate helmet casually in his hands rather than wearing it, allowing everyone to see his face clearly. His distinctive blonde hair—so unusual in this region of dark-haired people—shined brilliantly under the setting sun that painted the Arpa skies in shades of orange and gold. They were finally home at last, after so long away.
The cleanup process in the aftermath of the purge took considerable time and effort. The great hall where the ministers and nobles had traditionally gathered for audiences and state business was an absolute bloody mess, the marble floors and walls splattered with gore from the executions. It took a dedicated team of servants and cleaners three full days of intensive scrubbing and washing to clean up all the visible evidence of what had occurred there.
But despite their best and most thorough efforts, the distinctive metallic stench of spilled blood never really left that hall entirely. It lingered persistently in the air currents and seemed to have soaked into the very stones themselves. The smell would catch you unexpectedly when the wind blew through the open sides of the structure, always keeping its subtle presence there as a silent but powerful reminder of what had happened, of the price of betrayal.
I had to conclude that the common people living in Arpa were, in many ways, painfully and blissfully ignorant of the political machinations happening in the levels of power above them. They had been standing right on the verge of a devastating civil war, teetering on the edge of chaos that could have killed thousands of them, but they hadn't been aware of any of that danger. They had simply gone about their daily lives, trusting that their leaders would handle such matters.
But such ignorance was perhaps understandable when you considered the quality of life they enjoyed. Arpa was, after all, the prosperous capital of a thriving empire. There were no beggars visible on the streets, desperately asking for loose change from passersby. There were no obviously sick or homeless people languishing in doorways with nowhere to go. The city had established proper facilities and systems to care for such vulnerable populations—they were housed, fed, and given medical attention as needed. None went hungry in Arpa if they were willing to seek help. It was an undeniable sign of a genuinely thriving and well-governed empire that took care of its people.
Naturally, the common citizens loved their Emperor who had personally brought forth progressive policies and generous funding dedicated specifically for the benefit of ordinary people during his four years actively governing the region. His investments in public welfare were second only to his father's, the previous emperor's ambitious funding programs. Not to mention that Arvid was young, vigorous, and quite pleasing to the eyes—handsome in a way that made him easy to admire and support.
But that same beloved emperor had been locked out of his own home, barred from his own capital by traitors, and practically none of the common people had known or understood what was happening. But Arvid didn't blame them for their ignorance at all. He held no resentment toward his people for not rising up on his behalf.
"Ignorance comes with a certain bliss," he had said philosophically earlier when he was getting ready for this triumphal entry, carefully donning his elaborate metal armor piece by piece with assistance from his attendants. He had never actually worn this particular ceremonial armor on any real battlefield during our long journey together—it was far too heavy and ornate for practical combat use. It was purely ceremonial, designed for occasions exactly like this one. But I had to agree that it looked exceptionally good on him, impressive and regal. He painted this perfect picture of a valiant, heroic emperor exactly like you might see depicted in an illustration from a historical tome or epic legend.
"If my people can live in bliss and peace, protected from the harsh realities of political conflict, then I will gladly take the full burden and backlash of their ignorance on their behalf," he had added seriously as attendants fastened the last protective piece onto his arms. He was finally set, ready and good to go. He had turned toward me then with an earnest expression.
"Please forgive them for not understanding." he had said quietly.
---
Now I rode several positions behind him in a carriage, able to observe everything that was happening from a slightly removed vantage point. From my position, I could clearly see and feel that Arvid was very much genuinely loved by his people. And equally evident was how much he loved them in return—it showed in every smile he gave them, every wave of acknowledgment, every moment he took to make eye contact with individuals in the crowd. Public opinion might change over time with circumstances, that was an inevitable truth of politics. And Arvid himself didn't personally believe that he was truly worthy of this love and adoration from his people, I knew. He struggled with self-doubt despite his successes.
"I'm a tyrant," he had confessed to me once in a moment of dark introspection.
But if he was genuinely a tyrant in the truest, cruelest sense of that word, would he be loved this much by ordinary people? Would they shower him with flower petals and roasted rice and cry out his name with joy? Then perhaps he was what one might call a good tyrant, if such a paradoxical thing could exist. But such a contradictory thing doesn't really exist in reality. Thus, the logical conclusion was that he was simply a fundamentally good emperor who was well on his way to potentially becoming a truly great one, if he could overcome his self-doubt and continue growing into his role.
Despite the warm and enthusiastic welcome we had received from the common people living in the outer first and second wall districts of the city, the situation and atmosphere inside the exclusive third wall area was dramatically and noticeably different. As our procession passed beneath the section of wall where the corpses of the executed conspirators hung as a gruesome warning, the people who came out to formally welcome us were a much more reserved and calculated group. They were mostly wealthy merchants protecting their commercial interests and some lower-ranking nobles who hadn't been involved in the conspiracy.
The higher nobility and the extended members of the royal family were positioned conspicuously behind all the others, as if deliberately taking cover or maintaining distance. And instead of cheering enthusiastically like the common people had done, they were simply watching in tense silence. Observing. Evaluating. Waiting, perhaps, to see if Arvid would somehow fail or falter, if this victory would prove temporary.
The contrast was stark and telling about the divide between social classes.
Does having royal blood really set you fundamentally apart from the rest of humanity? I found myself asking internally, troubled by what I was observing. Does it create an unbridgeable gap?
"It absolutely does," Aiona replied immediately to my racing thoughts, her consciousness stirring within me. I realized with slight guilt that yesterday I had been so focused and absorbed in the mission Arvid had entrusted specifically to me that I had almost forgotten about Aiona's constant presence within my mind and body.
"Just look at yourself as a prime example," she continued, her mental voice carrying a distinctly sarcastic edge. "Having royal blood, being of dragon descent, absolutely sets you apart from other people in fundamental ways. You can't deny that."
"That's different though," I replied to her internally, keeping my external expression neutral as I continued watching Arvid ride ahead of our carriage through the open window. "My situation is unique because I'm—because our bloodline specifically is cursed. That's what makes us different, not just the royalty itself."
"He is cursed too, you know," Aiona said, her voice shifting to something more somber and contemplative. "Not in the same supernatural way that you are, obviously—but consider this: just because Arvid had imperial blood flowing through his veins, his innocent mother was brutally murdered by political rivals. He himself was nearly killed as a child, targeted for assassination multiple times. He had to wander the land like a homeless vagabond for years just to keep himself alive and hidden. He's had to face betrayal after betrayal from people he trusted implicitly. He's been forced to get his hands bloody again and again, to make impossible choices and kill people—sometimes people he cared about. And he has to feel like a monster every single day because of the things he's had to do to survive and rule effectively."
Her voice grew even more somber. "I'd say he is plenty cursed, even without any supernatural element. Perhaps more cursed than many who have magic actively working against them."
We both fell silent, watching our fated mate as he continued greeting people with a genuine smile on his handsome face. It was an authentic smile, not a political mask—one that came from deep within his heart, reflecting his real affection for his people and his relief at being home. The warmth in that expression was unmistakable and deeply moving to witness.
And in that moment, observing him there bathed in the golden light of sunset, I made a solemn vow to myself: I would do absolutely anything to protect that precious smile of his. Anything and everything within my power, no matter the cost to myself. He had saved me, had given me purpose and a future when I had none. Now I would dedicate myself to ensuring his happiness and safety, to being worthy of the trust he had placed in me.
Whatever came next, whatever challenges awaited us in this complex capital city full of political intrigue and ancient grudges, we would face it together.
[End of Volume 01]