Epilogue
Winsome giggles of children fill the corridors of the renowned palace. A few people have come together from different states of the country to celebrate along with the Queen's family on the basis of her becoming a grandma again... for the third time.
She was delighted to become a grandma, someone was awfully delighted to become an aunt all over again too.
Ravine Jocastia Renaldi.
She turns 58 this year and her lovely partner has turned 55 already. The two lovebirds, kiss in an old school fashion on the lips.
On their lap were their grandkids as their mother was busy with the guests and handling other chores.
"Your majesty. The emperor of Southern Palatinate is here." Ravine looks at the informer. Memories flash in front of her eyes as she smiles at them. They were a distant part of her brain. Her husband beside her pats her back as she welcomes the King of Souther Palatinate.
"Wow..." the King says without hesitation.
"You're as beautiful as you ever looked, Ravine." He says to the empress.
"Careful where your mouth is going, Rhys. She's still my wife." Says the jealous King of Eulandia and the biggest businessman in the world. Their grandkids cluster around their legs, questioning who was this man at all.
They tell him yet another story.
Stories, stories and more stories to say.
Ravine and Aaron have led a life full of adventure and tales that were talk-worthy and which swoon over even adults.
Their love lasted for long 33 years, and their eldest daughter, middle baby boy and the youngest daughter were all bright and smart, elegant princesses and prince.
Princess Karina, Prince Ronald and little princess Aurora were the beloved children of Aaron and Ravine.
They've come a long, long way together...
And today, the older couple celebrate the welcoming of their youngest grandchild. A gift form heavens.
Every royal of the Kingdom who've scattered after the Amendment of the rules come back.
Because the girl was named after her Grandmother.
What kind of legacy will this little carry on herself? Will she turn out to be like Ravine? Get inspired by her grandmother's indefatigable and zestful life?
The future holds many more stories...
At night after the memorable gathering in naming the child, Ravine and Aaron narrate yet another story to their beloved grandchildren.
They were aged 8 and 6, both ardent listeners to their grandma's amazing stories.
They loved their grandparents more than anything.
"Oh!~ So that's how you met grandpa? So romantic, granny!" Aaron laughs delightfully, his chest rumbling with old age.
"That's right! We met in a garden. A garden full of wine and we met in a small little hut. We made love too, princess." Aaron boops the little girl's nose, the girl giggling adorably.
"Stop! Don't tell them that!"
"But it's not good to not tell them too, you know." He says to the old woman.
As night came by, the old lovebirds gather at the terrace of the palace again.
The moon was full and round. Their fascination with a distant reflecting rock in the space hasn't died even after 33 years.
"Ah..." she sighs.
"I want to live like I was 23 again..." Says the old woman.
"Me too. I want to relive my life with you, Ravine. I want to get old with you all over again." The old man says.
The lights from the after party glows below them, the kingdom rejoices along with the royals, the citadel lit up brighter than the night sky.
Out of the blue, the couple sense a sharp cold breeze behind them.
Turning around, they see a tall, slim man wearing a hat and sighing in relief. His clothes were ragged, his eyes burned like liquid gold.
"Who are you?" Ravine furrows her eyebrows, looking at the male who looked like someone out of a fiction.
"Ravine and Aaron... you had a wish for me, isn't it?" The two look at each other.
A smile spread on their face.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
THE END...?












