The northern wind bit sharply at Isla's face as her convoy returned to the capital. Night had swallowed the road long ago, but the fires that burned across the valley still glimmered faintly in the distance, a reminder of what she had just stopped. The men behind her rode in silence, the weight of her power still pressing on their minds.
Luca rode beside her, his horse's steps matching hers. Neither spoke for a long time. The air between them was thick with unspoken things — questions, fear, awe. When the lights of the capital came into view, the silence finally cracked.
"You didn't have to ride in," Luca said quietly. "One order and they would have surrendered. They were terrified of you."
Isla kept her eyes on the path ahead. "Fear built Dante's kingdom. I will not build mine the same way."
He turned to look at her, his voice low. "Then what will you build it with?"
She hesitated. "I don't know yet."
