Chapter 88: The Week after
The seven days that followed were a whirlwind of ash, debris, and relentless rebuilding efforts. The capital city remained awake around the clock, its streets lit by the flickering flames of pyres that burned through the first night, their smoke billowing into the sky like a dark, rising second horizon.
The death toll was estimated in the tens of thousands, with the injured numbering in the hundreds of thousands, many of them lying in makeshift hospitals set up in public squares and abandoned buildings. Everywhere, the streets echoed with the sounds of hammers striking nails, chisels carving away at damaged stone, wagons creaking under the weight of rubble, and desperate voices calling out the names of the missing loved ones amid the chaos.
The Church of the Eternal Will was systematically dismantled. Its soldiers, once fierce guardians, were reduced to dust in the streets. The church’s covert agents embedded within the palace, the guilds, and the military and every other important body were either killed in the purge or captured by imperial forces, an operation so thorough that no room for dissent remained. There were no trials, no public hangings; the Crown simply announced that the traitors had been eliminated, and the city’s people was left to pick up the pieces and move forward.
On the second day, House Harwic was formally attainted by imperial decree. The proclamation was read aloud in every town square and posted on every notice board, its language unmistakably harsh. Titles and privileges were stripped away, lands confiscated, and assets seized to enrich the Crown. The noble lineage of Harwick was erased from the official registers, and any survivor attempting to reclaim its legacy faced the harsh reality of being branded enemies of the Empire.
Hector Harwick was still unaccounted for, missing amidst the chaos, while his steward, Aldric, was caught attempting to flee through the south gate in a haste to escape. Now incarcerated in a small cell beneath the palace, Aldric awaited judgment, whatever mercy the Emperor might decide to bestow. Yet, all signs pointed to a forthcoming harsh punishment, as no leniency was expected in the aftermath of such devastation.
The truth about Edmund Kane emerged on the third day of the investigation.
It was uncovered during a detailed review of Harwick’s archived files, revealing a scandal so severe that even the Emperor’s most trusted agents hesitated before sending it to higher authorities. The records that had falsely condemned the Kane family, other families and atrocities were later exposed as deliberate forgeries. The witnesses who had testified against Edmund were found to be Harwick’s operatives under false pretenses. The officials from the Registry, who had signed off on his detention order, were revealed to have been paid bribes. Every charge, every accusation, and every scrap of evidence that had condemned him to a cell, to face death, was completely fabricated.
Edmund Kane had been murdered by the very individuals who had stolen his identity.
The revelation spread across the capital like wildfire, news travels fast when lives are at stake. Nobles who had clandestinely whispered against Dominic during the Tribunal now hurried to disassociate themselves from the previous verdict. The name Kane was irrevocably changed overnight. It was no longer a symbol of shame or treason; it became a badge of martyrdom.
Dominic received the news in the solitude of the manor’s study, his body still in recovery, his hands clutching a cold, damp cup of herbal tea.
He did not rejoice.
He did not cry.
He merely sat there, staring at the official proclamation, feeling its weight pressing into his chest. His father was innocent. His entire family had been unjustly shattered. Now, the Empire was offering words of condolence.
"Are you all right?" Theresa asked softly from the doorway.
𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎
"No," Dominic replied quietly. "But I will be."
She approached, gently took the cold tea from his hands, and replaced it with a freshly poured cup. Then she sat beside him, her shoulder lightly pressing against his, neither speaking.
And that silence was enough.
The invitations began arriving on the fourth day, in a steady stream of urgency and variety.
They flooded in, letters from noble houses, their seals embossed with intricate heraldic symbols, seeking favor and influence; requests from powerful merchant guilds, their parchment layered with signatures and official stamps, vying for patronage; summons from diverse political factions, each promising rewards to sway the city’s emerging hero to their side.
Some letters were carefully polite, written in formal, flowery language. Others bore traces of desperation, with hurried handwriting and imperative tones. Several appeared as barely concealed proposals, dripping with veiled promises.
Florence burned most of them in the courtyard fire, the flames crackling as they consumed the delicate paper.
"You’re not going to any of these," she said firmly, tossing another letter into the blaze. "You can barely walk."
"I can walk," Dominic replied from the couch, his voice strained.
"Barely," Florence countered.
Lysandra watched silently from the window, a small, tentative smile curling at the corners of her mouth. Since the battle, she had remained quiet, yet not distant. If anything, she seemed more present, as if the near-death experience had burned away some of her natural shyness. She still blushed when Dominic caught her looking, her cheeks flushing, but she didn’t immediately look away.
The political landscape shifted rapidly, marked by unforeseen alliances and betrayals. Lady Vex made a single, discreet visit, cloaked in plain grey fabric that rendered her almost invisible in the dim light, effectively disguising her formidable presence. The ice mage, who had previously used magic to freeze Church soldiers into motionless statues during a surprise assault, now sat calmly in the ornate sitting room of her manor.
There, she offered the Collegium extensive resources, state-of-the-art laboratories, talented researchers, and generous funding, in exchange for a strategic partnership on the dubious and experimental corrupted heart project. Theresa, assessing the offer with a measured and quiet confidence born of experience, accepted without hesitation. Lady Vex then quietly departed, leaving behind no fanfare, as if the encounter was just another routine transaction amid escalating tensions.
Vora’s departure was notably subdued, marked by a quiet sense of finality.
She arrived unexpectedly at the manor on the sixth night, slipping through the shadowed corridors without announcement. Her bronze eyes, usually sharp and commanding, were shadowed with visible exhaustion, yet her demeanor remained formidable. She lingered only briefly to deliver her crucial message: Eidolon was departing from the capital city. The core was fortified and secure. She promised to remain in contact when the timing was right.
"Rest well, Lord Kane," she said softly, her voice tinged with the distant, smoky quality of unresolved memories. "This battle has concluded. The next is already in motion."
She vanished before Dominic could even ask for clarification about her cryptic words.
Tobin Varn’s recovery was slow but steadfast. The curse had nearly claimed her life, yet the combined efforts of the Collegium’s healers and the capital’s priests managed to break its grip. By the fifth day, the dark veins had vanished, leaving only pale scars on her arms and a deep exhaustion that would linger for weeks. Throughout her ordeal, her sister remained by her side. When Frank prepared to return to Caldmore, Tobin, with quiet determination, asked to accompany him.
She left with Frank on the sixth day, her sister riding close beside her.
Before her departure, she sought out Dominic in the manor’s courtyard, her hands clenched tightly, her voice barely a whisper from the stress.
"I never got to thank you properly," she said.
Dominic shook his head gently. "You didn’t have to."
"I needed to." She locked eyes with him, and for a fleeting moment, the fear that had haunted her was replaced by a stronger resolve. "You gave me my family back. I won’t forget that."
He watched her and Frank as their carriage headed toward the city gates. She had been a pawn in someone else’s war, a scared girl manipulated by men who held her family hostage. Now, she was returning home, stronger.
It felt like a small but significant victory.
Before Frank departed, he left behind a trusted confidant in the capital and issued a stark warning: the Church was far from finished, and Hector Harwick was still out there, lurking in the shadows. He also handed over a sealed letter from the Emperor’s office, its contents unread, its weight heavy on the desk where it rested.
Dominic hesitated, unable to bring himself to open the letter immediately.
On the seventh day, as the sun descended behind the city’s rooftops, casting a golden glow, Dominic finally broke the seal. The letter was succinct and formal. The Emperor summoned him to the Palace of the Sun the following evening, instructing him to bring his companions and wear the colors of House Kane.
He was commanded to assume the seat traditionally reserved for the Duke of Arkania.
The territory outlined in the letter included both the lands of Kane and the neighboring Harwick domains, a territory once lost to his family now restored, and his enemies’ territories annexed to his own.
Dominic gazed at the words, lost in thought for a long moment.
The manor was enveloped in a profound quiet. Wobbly, the small violet-pulse creature, slept peacefully on the pillow beside him. Through their bond, Dominic sensed Theresa’s calm, steady presence in her study, and Florence’s restless energy as she moved through the courtyard, keeping watch.
Three women had stayed by his side through the darkest times, women who fought valiantly, bled courageously, and believed unwaveringly in him when the entire world seemed to turn its back.
Tomorrow, the capital would honor their sacrifices.
But tonight, the manor was still. And for the first time in many days, Dominic allowed himself a moment of genuine rest.