The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 296: Arrival

On the seventh day, the sun bled across the horizon like a wound.

And there, rising from the valley floor like a dream carved from winter itself... the heart of winter.

Caelen reined his horse to a halt on the crest of the final hill, and for a moment, he simply stared.

The capital of Nevareth.

Magnificent. Terrible. Beautiful in the way that dangerous things are beautiful... all sharp edges and cold light and the promise of something that could either save you or destroy you.

The palace itself dominated the skyline, its ice-carved spires reaching toward the sky with architectural audacity that defied physics. Walls rose from the valley like frozen waves caught mid-crash, and even from this distance, Caelen could see the way light refracted through them, casting rainbow patterns across the snow.

But beauty couldn’t hide tragedy.

Even from here, he could see the evidence of what had happened. The outer districts bore scaffolding like wounds wrapped in bandages... buildings being rebuilt, structures still bearing scorch marks despite the snow. Relief crews moved through the streets in organized chaos. Memorial sites dotted the damaged areas, stone markers where the dead were being remembered.

The grief hung over the city like fog, palpable even from this distance. Thick enough to taste. Heavy enough to drown in.

And Eris had been at the center of it. Had closed the portal. Had saved what remained.

Had faced hell itself while he’d been dreaming uselessly in Solmire.

"Father?" Rael’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Is that where Mother lives now?"

"Yes." The word came rough. "That’s where she is."

So close. Finally so close.

Caelen urged his horse forward, down the final hill toward the capital gates, toward the end of this desperate journey.

Toward her. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

The gates of the capital rose before them... massive things of reinforced ice and steel, manned by guards whose posture screamed military discipline and whose eyes held the wariness of people who’d seen too much death too recently.

A royal escort met them before they’d even fully entered. Palace guards in formal dress, their uniforms pristine despite the chaos their city had endured. They approached with deep bows, their movements precise and professional.

"Your Majesty." The captain’s voice carried respect tinged with something else. Surprise, perhaps. Or concern. "King Caelen Caldrith of Solmire. We were not... that is, we did not expect... "

"I received Emperor Soren’s wedding invitation." Caelen kept his voice steady, formal, though exhaustion bled through at the edges. "I’ve come to attend."

And to see her. Gods, I need to see her.

"Of course, Your Majesty. If you’ll follow us, we’ll escort you to the palace. Your party will be accommodated with all appropriate... "

"Thank you." Caelen cut him off gently. Seven days of relentless travel had stripped away his patience for ceremony. "Please, lead on."

The guards exchanged glances but didn’t argue. They formed up around Caelen’s party... himself, Ophelia’s carriage, Rael’s smaller entourage... and began the procession through the capital streets.

Word spread ahead of them like wildfire. The King of Solmire has arrived.

The citizens of Nevareth stopped and stared.

Some with curiosity... another foreign dignitary, more political theater for a city already drowning in it. Some with resentment... what did Solmire want with their tragedy? Why was he here?

Caelen barely noticed. His attention fixed on the streets themselves, on the evidence of recent catastrophe.

Relief sites still operating. Temporary shelters housing displaced families. Workers clearing rubble with systematic efficiency. The burn patterns on buildings that even snow couldn’t fully hide.

And everywhere... everywhere... the tension. Thick enough to choke on. The way people moved in tight groups, watching each other with suspicion. The way conversations died when strangers approached. The atmosphere of a city that had been wounded and didn’t know who to blame.

This is what Eris had been navigating. This chaos. This fear. This political nightmare where every action was scrutinized, every decision questioned, every gesture interpreted as evidence of her fitness to rule.

And she’d faced it without him.

Had faced demons and politics and a hostile court, all while he’d been dreaming uselessly an ocean away.

I should have been here. Should have...

But he hadn’t been. And now all he could do was arrive too late, as always, and hope she didn’t hate him for it.

The palace grew larger with every block. Closer. Real.

And somewhere inside those walls, Eris existed.

Breathing. Living. So close he could almost feel her.

Caelen’s hands tightened on his reins until leather creaked.

The palace threshold loomed before him.

Caelen dismounted with movements gone mechanical from exhaustion, every muscle protesting seven days of brutal travel. He moved to Ophelia’s carriage, helping her down with careful hands, noting the way she winced slightly, the strain of the journey evident in her pale face.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

"Fine." She smiled, small and tired. "Just ready to rest."

Rael appeared at his side immediately, small hand clutching Caelen’s with nervous excitement. His son’s eyes were wide, taking in the palace’s magnificence, the unfamiliar guards, the cold grandeur of this foreign place.

"Is Mother here?" Rael whispered.

"Yes." Caelen’s voice caught. "Somewhere in this palace. We’ll see her soon."

Gods willing. If she’ll see me. If she doesn’t...

He couldn’t finish the thought.

This was it. The moment before everything changed. Before he walked through those doors and into whatever came next.

Terror and longing warred in his chest. Guilt and love tangled until he couldn’t separate them. Desperation threatened to overwhelm him... the desperate need to see her, to confirm she was real, that the dreams weren’t all he had left.

Seven days. Seven days of relentless travel, of sleepless nights, of missing her with an ache that had settled into his bones and refused to leave.

And now... finally, impossibly... he was here.

About to see her again.

After everything. After all this time. After destroying everything between them and spending months drowning in regret.

What will I even say? How do I...

The palace doors opened before he could finish the thought.

An attendant emerged, clearly flustered, his formal composure cracking at the edges. He bowed hastily, his movements stuttering with nervous energy.

"Your Majesty. King Caelen. Welcome to Nevareth. We... that is, you weren’t expected, but of course you’re most welcome. The Emperor is currently... " He paused, searching for words. "The Emperor is in council. There’s been a... a situation. Duke Cassius was... and Lady Eris is... "

He trailed off, realizing he was babbling, unsure how much to say, how to explain the chaos the palace had descended into.

"Take me to Emperor Soren," Caelen said. His voice came steadier than he felt. "I’ll wait for the council to conclude if necessary."

And then I’ll find her. Then I’ll see her. Then...

"Of course, Your Majesty. Please, follow me. Your party will be shown to guest chambers. Refreshments will be brought. If there’s anything you require... "

"Just take me to the Emperor."