The departure from Solmere was nothing short of historic.
By the time the carriage rolled toward the Compound gates, the crowd outside had swelled beyond anything even Jax anticipated.
Cheers erupted.
Banners waved.
Flowers were thrown.
Some celebrated the wedding.
Some celebrated the political alliance.
Some simply celebrated their favorite figures leaving town in spectacular fashion.
"Bring home the Elves!" someone shouted.
"Marry her already!" another yelled.
Bunny waved like royalty.
Nyxian blew dramatic kisses.
Zee smiled shyly but couldn't hide her glow.
Llandra stood tall, regal, yet visibly moved.
Jax only shook his head.
He had intended to leave quietly.
That was clearly impossible.
The Journey Begins
With Vaelrith's coordination and Jax's portal network, the first three weeks of travel vanished instantly.
One portal step.
And they were far beyond the Empire's immediate reach.
From there—
Grim and Steed took over.
The massive Shadow Bulls pulled the carriage tirelessly, day and night. They did not sleep. They did not tire. They did not complain.
They were very enthusiastic about this mission.
Inside, the carriage expanded into the dimensional space Jax had constructed.
And that was when the true trial began.
For the Veil.
Routine
Mornings began predictably.
Before sunrise—
Groans.
Not pained ones.
Contained ones.
Then muffled laughter.
Then the unmistakable creaking of reinforced wood.
The Veil lay in their converted training room, staring at the ceiling.
Someone would always mutter, "It is still dark."
Then silence.
Then—
"Oh, Jax—!"
Someone would cough.
Someone would roll over.
Someone would whisper, "By the ancestors…"
Eventually, the noises would quiet.
The scent of breakfast would drift through the dimensional space.
It was different every day.
Elven fruit platters.
Savory omelets.
Exotic meats.
Jax cooked like nothing had happened.
The Vixens emerged radiant.
Vaelrith sipped tea with military discipline.
The younger members of the Veil avoided eye contact.
Afternoons
With weeks of travel ahead and no threats on the road, boredom became the enemy.
The Veil trained.
They sparred.
They meditated.
They read.
Eventually—
They invented games.
Card tournaments.
Strategy simulations.
Competitive endurance drills.
At one point, Dawn introduced a point system for who could ignore "evening disturbances" the longest without reacting.
No one won.
Evenings
As the sun dipped low beyond the dimensional horizon, drinks appeared.
Wine.
Spirits.
Elven liquors Vaelrith had carried for years.
At first, the Veil resisted.
They were professionals.
Disciplined.
Reserved.
But after the third consecutive evening of what one described as "structural stress testing of the master floor," discipline softened.
Soon, even Vaelrith accepted a modest glass.
The Vixens would eventually excuse themselves.
Polite smiles.
Innocent expressions.
"Goodnight!"
Doors closed.
Silence.
Five seconds.
Then—
Movement.
Laughter.
Whispers.
More laughter.
The Veil stared at each other.
Someone would whisper, "Perhaps it will be brief tonight."
It never was.
Hours.
Absolute hours.
The bed—despite Jax's upgrades—protested loudly.
At some point during week two, two of the younger Veil members began a drinking game.
One sip for every time someone shouted Jax's name.
Two sips if it was Nyxian's voice.
Three if Bunny giggled first.
They were unconscious before midnight.
Vaelrith banned the game the next morning.
It did not stop them from counting silently.
The Days Blend Together
Nearly a month passed like this.
Day.
Routine.
Laughter.
Night.
Unrelenting enthusiasm.
Repeat.
And despite the chaos—
Morale was strangely high.
The Veil found themselves… lighter.
Less tense.
Less burdened.
Jax and the Vixens were not ashamed.
Not secretive.
Not political.
They were joyful.
And it was contagious.
Even if it was loud.
Very loud.
Arrival
On the twenty-eighth day, Grim snorted sharply.
Steed stamped twice.
The signal.
They were close.
The carriage slowed.
The dimensional walls shimmered as the party emerged into open air.
And there it was.
Etherevalis.
The kingdom rose in layered terraces of silver-white stone and luminous green crystal.
Spiral towers pierced the sky.
Waterfalls cascaded from elevated gardens.
Bridges arched like ribbons between gleaming structures.
It was not just large.
It was ancient.
Majestic.
Alive.
Even Jax inhaled sharply.
"This," Nyxian whispered, "is dramatic."
Llandra stood at the front window, silent.
Home.
The carriage continued through the outer villages.
Word spread instantly.
A carriage pulled by shadow bulls.
No guard stopped them.
No barrier blocked them.
High above, watchers observed from tower balconies.
Inside the castle's upper halls—
They already knew.
Final Preparations
Before entering the capital proper, they re-entered the dimensional space one final time.
Wardrobe adjustments.
Final checks.
Llandra wore elegance effortlessly.
Silver accents.
Elven silk.
Grace in every movement.
The other Vixens dressed refined.
Tasteful.
Powerful.
Though Jax glanced at Nyxian and Bunny and thought—
At least the essentials are properly secured.
Cleavage, however, remained undefeated.
The Veil changed into full military attire.
Formal insignia.
Ceremonial blades.
Silent and imposing.
Vaelrith stepped into the carriage chamber last.
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Professional.
Composed.
Historic.
The gates of Etherevalis loomed ahead.
The Shadow Bulls slowed.
The capital opened before them.
The next stop—
The throne.