Athena's pov
The morning light felt different now, brighter, yes, but also fragile. Like the world didn't quite trust it would last.
The palace was still broken. Cracked spires, shattered walls, and entire corridors caved in like ribs crushed by a giant's hand. Wolves scrambled over stone and rubble, their voices filling the air with orders and questions. Rebuilding had begun, but the ground itself still remembered the battle—blood seeping into its veins, old magic clinging to the edges like the last breath of winter.
I walked among them, issuing commands, dragging the kingdom back to its feet piece by fractured piece. I had become their goddess, their queen, their banner. There was no time to grieve what I'd lost. No time to mourn what I'd become.
I had to keep moving.
I stopped near what was left of the central courtyard, now, only a jagged stone basin remained, its marble walls blackened by fire.
A voice broke through the hum of labor.
"Athena."
