The kingdom hadn't so much prepared a hero's welcome as they'd prepared a "vaguely concerned gathering." When Evan, Lydia, Emma, and Ashe rode through the gates, people didn't cheer—they stared, as if trying to decide whether Evan was a savior or a natural disaster that had learned to ride a horse.
"They look like they're waiting for me to explode," Evan muttered.
"You did that once," Emma reminded him.
"That was ONE TIME. And it was a very small explosion. More of a... enthusiastic poof."
"A poof that destroyed three practice dummies and a watering can."
"The watering can had it coming. It was judging me."
The crowd parted as they rode through, whispers spreading like ripples in a pond. Evan caught snippets:
"That's him—the Carter heir—"
"He healed Lord Marten—"
"And the boy—Lady Cordelia's son—"
"They say he turned a crystal into a chandelier—"
"Who's the shadowy one? Is that a—"
"Don't look at it directly—"
Ashe, for his part, seemed unconcerned by the attention. He rode quietly, his cloak pulled up, his eyes observing everything with calm interest.
The king and queen waited on the palace steps, trying to look regal and not like they'd been pacing for hours. Queen Elara's expression was carefully neutral, but Evan caught the slight relaxation in her shoulders as they approached.
"Evan Carter!" the king boomed, with the forced enthusiasm of a man reading a script he'd been given five minutes ago. "You have returned! Victorious, we presume?"
"Victorious is a strong word," Evan said, dismounting. "I'd say 'mildly successful with minimal casualties and one reformed dark mage who's now considering gardening.' Also, your dark mage in the northern fortress is rethinking his career choices. You might get a resignation letter soon."
The queen blinked. "A... resignation letter?"
"From villainy. I suggested he try gardening. He seemed open to it. Marigolds, specifically. Very forgiving for beginners."
The courtiers whispered. Evan caught more snippets:
"—suggested GARDENING?"
"—did he even FIGHT?"
"—I heard he just talked the traps into disarming themselves—"
"—and the dragon just... nuzzled him—"
"—what DO you do with a reformed dark mage—"
Evan sighed. "Can we skip to the part where I get coffee? It's been a long three months of not-dying and occasional mountain climbing."
***
The debriefing room was full of important people with very serious faces. Generals. Advisors. Mages. People with clipboards and people with opinions and people who looked like they hadn't smiled in decades.
Evan slouched in his chair, golden orb floating beside him like a misbehaving balloon. Ashe stood in the corner, deliberately shadowy, observing silently. Emma and Lydia flanked Evan like bodyguards.
"So," said the head strategist, a man with a beard so intricate it probably had its own postal code and maintenance staff. "Tell us about the fortress's defenses."
"They were... decorative," Evan said. "The traps were polite. The guards seemed underpaid. The dark mage was having a midlife crisis. Overall, two out of five stars. Would not recommend for actual defense."
"And the dark mage? Malakar?"
"Steve," Evan corrected.
"His name is Malakar."
"He goes by Steve now. He's transitioning to a less evil lifestyle. I think he's considering opening a bakery. The dragon was lonely."
The strategist stared. "A... bakery."
"Evil pays poorly. Pastries are a growth industry." Evan shrugged. "Also, he needs a hobby that doesn't involve summoning lonely dragons."
Lydia stepped in before the strategist could have an aneurysm. "What Evan means is that we neutralized the threat through a combination of overwhelming magical presence and... psychological redirection."
"I broke his spirit with small talk," Evan clarified. "It's a gift."
"And the artifact?" the queen asked. "The Heart of Shadow?"
Evan pulled out the amulet. It pulsed gently in his hand, casting soft light across the room. "Right here. It's... calmer now. I had a conversation with it."
"You had a conversation with a dark artifact?"
"It wanted to be appreciated. They're all the same, really—ancient magical things. Just want someone to listen." He tucked it away. "I'll keep it safe. It's learning."
The room was silent.
Then the queen nodded slowly. "Very well. We'll... trust your judgment."
The meeting dragged on for another two hours. Evan answered questions, clarified details, and tried not to fall asleep. Ashe's presence in the corner made several advisors nervous, but no one commented.
By the end, Evan had a headache and a profound appreciation for the simplicity of mountain travel.
***