Fourty years after breaking the curse, Rhys received another message from Brother Ignatius.
"The Void Lord has declared Pryce fully redeemed. His soul has achieved genuine transformation. He's being offered a choice: remain in the In-Between, or move on to whatever comes after. True rest."
Rhys was sixty-three now, gray threaded through his dark hair, but his eyes still sharp. "What did he choose?"
"He wants your permission first. Won't move on without knowing you're at peace with his redemption."
"That's not for me to decide."
"Actually, it is. The curse bound you together. You gave him consequences. The Void Lord says you're the only one who can truly release him."
Rhys thought about it. About Elara and Valerian. About six lifetimes of suffering. About Kai's blood on the walls and cold hands in the night.
Then he thought about the painting. The foundation. The lives saved. The growth, however slow, that had happened in forty years of facing consequences.
"Tell him..." Rhys paused. "Tell him I release him. From the curse, from the guilt, from the debt. What he does with that freedom is up to him. But he's paid enough. It's time to rest."
Brother Ignatius smiled. "I'll convey your message."
That night, Rhys dreamed.
He was in the meadow—the In-Between. Pryce stood there, looking peaceful for the first time in three hundred and forty years.
"Thank you," Pryce said simply. "For everything. The consequences. The mercy. The chance to become better. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but you gave it anyway. That's real grace."
"I didn't do it for you," Rhys replied. "I did it for myself. So I could live without hate weighing me down."
"I know. That's what makes it grace." Pryce smiled—not the possessive smile from before, but something genuine. "I'm ready now. To let go. To move on. To finally stop existing as the villain in your story."
"You were never just a villain. You were also a cautionary tale. A lesson. A reminder that obsession destroys everything it touches."
"And now?"
"Now you're proof that even the worst people can change if they face consequences and do the work. That's important too."
Pryce nodded. "Goodbye, Rhys. Thank you for surviving me. For thriving despite me. For being the person I never had the strength to become."
"Goodbye, Valerian. Rest well."
The dream faded.
Rhys woke beside Liam—sixty-five now, silver-haired, still warm and solid and real.
"You okay?" Liam murmured, half-asleep.
"Yeah. Just... saying goodbye to a ghost."
"Good. You deserve to be haunted by nothing but happy memories."
Rhys smiled and settled back into sleep.
Outside, somewhere in the cosmic space between life and death, Prince Valerian's soul finally, finally let go.
Released from the In-Between.
Released from guilt.
Released from existence.
Just... gone. At peace. Whatever came after, he faced it as someone who'd learned, grown, and earned his rest.
The curse was over.