Lordaeron, having already received word of their arrival, was fully prepared. A contingent of Royal Guards in polished armor stood at attention on either side. Leading them was Calia Menethil, her golden hair meticulously styled, dressed in elegant, regal attire.
Rhodes had sent word to Princess Calia before departing, ensuring that Lordaeron would host a grand welcoming ceremony. Having been away for two months, he noted that the capital looked even more beautiful; the military had recovered, and a steady stream of refugees was returning home.
"Welcome, King Varian Wrynn. Welcome, Prince Anduin, and our noble friends from Stormwind," Princess Calia said, bowing slightly to King Varian.
As her current status was still that of a Princess while Varian was a King, she followed the protocol of human diplomacy by bowing first. Only after her coronation could she stand as an equal, exchanging mutual salutations as fellow monarchs.
"To all of you from Stormwind, your presence adds great luster to my coronation. It is an honor for Lordaeron and a testament to the unity of our Alliance," added Uther, who stood beside Calia.
It seemed Rhodes had successfully persuaded Stormwind. Uther was curious about what had transpired to make those notoriously stubborn, conservative nobles agree to let their King travel north.
King Varian stepped forward, placing a hand over his chest and returning the bow with a slight nod. "Thank you for the warm reception, Your Highness. I must apologize—it is a thorn in my heart that Stormwind was unable to provide aid during Lordaeron's darkest hour. For that, I am deeply sorry."
Varian truly regretted the lack of support. He had wanted to help, but Lady Katrana Prestor and her faction of nobles had blocked him at every turn. Furthermore, given how quickly the Scourge had moved, reinforcements might have arrived too late regardless.
"There is no need for that, King Varian. We know your heart was with us, but the distance was great, and Stormwind had its own burdens," Calia replied with a graceful smile, offering Varian a dignified way out. She recalled that many nobles had suggested fleeing to Stormwind during the invasion; had she done so, she likely never would have had the chance to claim the throne today.
Varian softened his usual edge, responding with perfect kingly etiquette: "Princess Calia, to witness the rebirth of Lordaeron and the rise of a new Queen is an honor for Stormwind. May the bonds of the Alliance grow ever stronger between us."
By referring to her as "Queen" ahead of the ceremony, he was offering formal diplomatic recognition and a blessing. Young Prince Anduin also stepped forward. "Princess Calia, may the Holy Light bless you and your kingdom."
Calia smiled warmly at the boy. He was about the same age as her own daughter. She couldn't help but reach out and affectionately pinch his cheek. "I know of you, little Anduin. Your father notified Lordaeron when you were born. To have such an affinity for the Light at such a young age is a blessing."
Thinking of her own daughter, who was still being raised in secret within the palace, Calia felt a pang of motherly concern. Perhaps she should find a future for her child. Though born out of wedlock, once Calia became Queen, the girl would be a Princess.
Anduin was the only prince of her age in the Alliance; if Lordaeron and Stormwind could be joined by marriage, her daughter might one day be Queen of Stormwind. She made a mental note to discuss this with Rhodes later to see what the Regent thought.
"Well, let us not stand here in the cold. Please, come inside," Calia said. "A grand banquet has been prepared in the palace to welcome you properly."
The group was led into the palace. Along the streets, citizens had gathered spontaneously, cheering and waving. Cries of "Princess Calia!" and "Long live Lordaeron!" echoed through the air.
Inside the Great Hall, the atmosphere was opulent. Long tables were draped in white linen, and silver candelabras sparkled under magical lamps. The air was thick with the scent of fresh bread, spices, and roasted meats.
As the host, Calia took the head of the table. To her left sat Varian and Anduin; to her right was the seat reserved for Rhodes. This placement made Rhodes's status crystal clear: as the Regent of Lordaeron, he was second only to the Queen.
Jaina, Finnall, Uther, and Tirion sat alongside the Stormwind nobles. Onyxia and Tyrygosa were also given seats. Despite Onyxia's hidden agenda, she maintained a poised exterior. Rhodes had already briefed the inner circle that these two were of the Dragonflight—and that one was a prisoner.
Calia raised her glass to begin. "Noble guests, we gather today in a reborn Lordaeron not just to welcome our friends from the south, but to witness the resilience of the Alliance. May the Light protect our lands and friendship dwell in our hearts. For the Alliance!"
"For the Alliance!" the hall thundered in response.
"King Varian," Calia said with a smile after the toast, "Rhodes wrote to me saying that you have formally recognized his position within the Alliance. Is that so?"
The hall fell silent. Everyone waited for the King of Stormwind's answer.
Varian set his glass down and nodded. "It is true. Lord Rhodes has been of immense help to Stormwind. Immediately upon his arrival, he quelled a lethal rebellion. Princess, you may not know, but a Black Dragon had infiltrated my kingdom, masquerading as a noble to steal my lands.
I was kept in the dark, and many of my nobles were under its sinister control. Even my dear Queen was a victim of this dragon's malice. It was Lord Rhodes who used his powerful Holy Light to expose and drive the beast out."
Varian spoke tactfully—Rhodes had indeed "driven the dragon out" of her political position, even if he now kept her as a pet.
"A Black Dragon? How is that possible?" the nobles whispered. "So that's why Stormwind didn't march north!"
Uther nodded solemnly. "I offer my deepest sympathies for your loss, King Varian." He remembered the records from ten years ago when the Black Dragonflight tried to seize Alterac through deception. It seemed the Black Dragons had moved their focus south.
"But that is in the past," Varian continued firmly. "Lord Rhodes showed the courage, wisdom, and martial prowess that earned my respect—and the respect of all Stormwind. I hereby represent Stormwind in formally recognizing Lord Rhodes as the Grand Marshal of the Alliance. Should the Alliance have need, the armies of Stormwind will stand ready to follow his command."
Varian had declared this in Stormwind, but announcing it here, before the Silver Hand and representatives of other races, made it an absolute, universal recognition. From this day forward, Rhodes's title was no longer a claim—it was a fact.
Rhodes smiled and raised his glass to Varian. Brother Varian, I didn't help you for nothing!
The hall erupted into a second, more thunderous round of applause. Uther the Lightbringer stood up, his voice like a bell. "Stormwind's recognition is Lordaeron's hope. Marshal Rhodes stood up in our darkest hour; his strength is why this land sees the light again. The Order of the Silver Hand stands ready to follow the Grand Marshal!"
"Salute the Grand Marshal!" the knights cheered.