It was time for Chris to marry.
Summer was drawing to an end, autumn was approaching, and the Kingdom of Bagnia's traditional Harvest Festival was not far off.
Elena and her family, who had remained in Tavitsky to rest and recover some of their strength and dignity, also set out for Anvil Fortress at this time.
Chris and Elena met for the first time in the hall inside Anvil Fortress.
A heavy, solemn grandeur filled the fortress's great hall.
Beneath the towering stone vaults, the cold fluorescent lights bathed everything in a solemn white glow. The lingering traces of gunpowder, rust, and tears seemed frozen in the air.
Chris stood on the dais at the far end of the hall. Instead of ceremonial finery, he wore a crisp, dark green Commander Uniform without any superfluous ornamentation. A golden sash and a Double-Headed Eagle insignia were his only adornments.
Below the dais, Elena and her father stood to one side.
Their brief rest had not entirely dispelled the exhaustion of their long journey, but the sight before them now held their attention completely. They watched in breathless silence.
Elena stood at the front, wrapped in a coat bearing her family's insignia. With scrutiny and curiosity in her eyes, she quietly studied Chris, the man who would soon become her husband-this powerful man who might well be a tyrant.
On the other side of the hall stood a heartbreaking gathering.
Two women in plain black clothes stood at the front, struggling to hold back their tears. They were the widows of the two fallen Centurions.
Young children huddled beside them, their uncomprehending eyes carrying a little unease and a vague longing for their fathers.
They were too young to understand what death meant. They only had some notion that their fathers had