Chapter 19: A King's Return

The fires of war had faded, replaced now by the glow of torches, lanterns, and candlelight. Inside the great hall of Virellia Keep, rebuilt with loving care and magical stone, Sir Salty stood tall — bruised, scarred, victorious.

The people hailed him as a hero. A saviour. A king in all but name.

But he had eyes only for them — Sarah, Michelle, and Isabella.

Queens in their own right. Warriors of fire and steel. Women of passion, power, and loyalty. His Dirty Dozen had thinned in battle, but these three remained by his side — not only as allies, but as something deeper.

As the revelry calmed, the crowd parted. Sarah stepped forward first, her red curls spilling over her silk gown, eyes smouldering.

“We’ve waited long enough,” she purred.

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The Queen’s Chambers

Inside Sarah’s royal chambers, the cold stone of the tower was warmed by firelight and velvet. Music drifted from below — but here, there was only breath, heat, and skin.

Salty kissed her first. Deep, slow, grateful.

Then Michelle joined — dark hair tumbling, voice like honey, fingers tracing the map of his body, his battle-worn muscles still firm, still filled with fire. She whispered, “You don’t just rule with a sword…”

And lastly, Isabella — silent, sharp-eyed, always the watcher. But tonight, her guard fell. Her touch was commanding. Her aim, perfect, even here.

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Entwined Like Destiny

Their bodies entwined, over and over again — not just once, but as the night stretched into the early light of dawn. Passion was shared like victory wine — heated, honest, and consuming.

There were no more questions of death, no ghosts of war. Only whispers, gasps, and names said in reverence.

Sir Salty made love not as a general, not as a legend — but as a man who had survived and fought for a future he could now finally touch.

Each Queen gave herself to him, and in return, he gave them his fire.

The stars themselves, it was said, dimmed out of jealousy that night.

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At Sunrise

In the golden hush before morning, the four lay together. Arms tangled. Bodies spent. Hearts full.

Sarah looked to the future. “You know this peace won’t last forever.”

Salty smiled and traced a scar on her shoulder. “Then we’ll fight again. Together.”

Michelle murmured, “Let them come. We have love. We have strength.”

Isabella simply loaded her crossbow and said, “Next time, I shoot first.”

They all laughed.

For now, the war was over.

And love — fierce, wild, and utterly earned — reigned supreme.

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