Chapter 151: Arc 2 Epilogue (2)
Away from the boisterous celebration in the courtyard, in a quiet royal study overlooking the gardens, King Harius III poured two glasses of amber-colored brandy. He handed one to Lord Arnold, who was staring out the window at the distant bonfires lighting up the city.
"It’s a beautiful sight, isn’t it?" the King said, his voice softer than it had been on the balcony. "A city that feels like it can breathe again."
"It is, Your Majesty," Arnold replied, taking the glass. "For a time, I feared I would never see it again."
The King took a slow sip. "The court is not the same without you, old friend. The paperwork has doubled, and the number of fools giving me counsel has tripled. The kingdom needs your steady hand, Arnold. I want you to take up your post again. As Lord Chamberlain."
It was the highest honor, a full restoration, an offer Arnold would have wept for just weeks ago. But he simply smiled, a weary, gentle expression.
"You honor me, Harius," he said, using the King’s name as only his oldest friend could. "But my hand, while steady, is no longer meant for signing royal decrees." He turned from the window, his gaze clear. "I have seen my family threatened. I have watched my grandchildren cry in a dungeon. My desire for political life... it is gone. I wish to truly retire."
The King studied his friend’s face, seeing the unshakeable resolve there. He sighed, a sound of understanding, not disappointment. "I respect your wishes. But what will you do? A quiet life in Luxia?"
Arnold’s eyes seemed to hold a distant, hidden purpose. "Something like that," he said vaguely. "Perhaps I will travel. See the world that was almost taken from my grandchildren. Spend my remaining days in a place where the air is clean and the politics are simple."
"Then I wish you peace, my friend," the King said, raising his glass. "You have more than earned it."
Arnold took his leave a few moments later. But instead of rejoining the banquet, he slipped through a quiet side corridor, his movements silent and purposeful. He exited the palace through a discreet gate, leaving the sounds of celebration and politics behind.
In the shadows of a side street, a simple, unmarked carriage was waiting. The driver, seeing him approach, gave a single, curt nod.