Suffox, Five Years Later
The world had changed — not suddenly, not with the thunder of revolution or the echo of a verdict, but with the quiet rhythm of living.
The Duchy of Suffox had become something new under its Grand Duke and Duchess.
Where once the land was marked by smoke and loss, now the fields flourished again — not because of decree, but because its people had begun to believe that gentleness was no longer weakness.
The manor itself bore the marks of a lived-in home.
Books cluttered the library tables, roses climbed the stone walls, and the scent of bread and earth replaced the cold perfume of politics.
From the terrace, Serena watched as the morning mist curled above the meadows. She held a letter in her hand — parchment softened by years of folding and refolding.
It was Christopher's handwriting.
