Life continued. Rhys's art show got rave reviews. Liam won a major case. They adopted a cat named Dante because Rhys appreciated the irony of a pet named after the author of Inferno.
Six months after the meeting with Pryce, Rhys woke from a dream—not a nightmare, just a dream—of the palace.
But this time, it was empty. No ghost. No curse. Just beautiful architecture and history without horror.
"I dreamed about the estate," he told Liam over breakfast.
Liam tensed. "Bad dream?"
"No. Just... neutral. I was walking through the halls and they were just rooms. No trauma attached." Rhys smiled. "I think that means I'm healing. Really healing."
"That's wonderful."
"I was thinking..." Rhys hesitated. "Maybe we should visit. The actual palace. Face it in daylight, without supernatural influence, and prove to ourselves it's just a building."
"Are you sure?"
"No. But I think I need to."
So they drove upstate to Ashton Estate. The palace had been sold to a historical society and opened as a museum. Tourists wandered through, taking photos, admiring architecture.
Rhys walked through with Liam's hand in his, and felt... nothing. No cold presence. No ghostly touch. Just history.
In the throne room, he stood where he'd made his choice five years ago.
"This is where it ended," he said quietly.
"And where it began," Liam added. "Where we started building something real."
Rhys turned to face him. "I love you. Not because of past lives or curses or destiny. But because you're kind and patient and you let me heal at my own pace."
"I love you too. For who you are right now, in this moment."
They kissed in the throne room—living, breathing, choosing each other freely.
A tour group walked in, and they pulled apart, laughing.
"Come on," Liam said. "Let's get out of here. Go somewhere without all this gothic drama."
"Where?"
"Anywhere. Beach? Mountains? Normal hotel with no supernatural history whatsoever?"
"That sounds perfect."
They left the palace behind—just another beautiful building, no power over them anymore.