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It did not happen all at once. There was no grand ceremony, no unanimous proclamation, no sudden, easy shift from hostility to devotion. The northern court was old, proud, and set in its ways. For generations, they had trusted only blood, only tradition, only the things that had kept them safe through centuries of cold and war. They had watched Aria arrive as a stranger, rise as a rebel, and lead as an outsider - and they did not give their trust lightly.

But they watched.

They watched her stand between their lands and the entity that would have devoured them all. They watched her keep her word, again...