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A column of soldiers, marching in perfect formation and singing, approaches the congested crowd.

The noise instantly dies down as people instinctively make way for the soldiers, who march up to stand in front of Vina, forming a barrier between her and the protesters.

Vina, we all know you went to negotiate with the dukes today, to fight for us.

We're not about to let you be humiliated in front of the dukes today!

We might not be ready for another battle, but we'll win anyone in numbers!

Thank you, all of you!

Everyone, come quick! I think they're over there!

A group of rowdy children fearlessly push through the crowd, squeezing their way right up to Vina.

It's really you!

You know me?

Of course! We've all heard your story. The great hero of the Exemplars, our very own Speaker!

I've made so many new friends recently—they're all people who walked back to Londinium with you.

They told me you would definitely recognize them. Take a look.

H-Hello, Vina?

Annie? And there's Anabella! Oh, Jones! You're here too!

I guess they were telling the truth then!

But... Why have you come?

We ran into this lady with really tan skin. She said you might run into trouble and told us to come help you!

Uh... did we actually help?

Of course you did!

Thank you, Morgan.

More and more people gather in front of the steps, while those who had been protesting for Diane start to quiet down.

Sigh... whew—

She thinks about everything that has happened over the past few days.

She thinks about the drunken Diane, the departing Glasgow Gang, and the stolen crown.

Bloody hell...

Vina relaxes, sitting down on the steps and gazing at the fiery red sky.

The retired soldiers sit as well, huddling with the other citizens around Vina.

Ha, let's all take a break, okay?

Can I ask you something?

Will we ever have a king again?

I don't know, but not having a king might not be such a bad thing.

Why is that?

You'll understand when you grow up.

Huh?

What do you think—will this be good or bad for Victoria?

It's still too early to tell.

If we have to accept the dawn of a new era, then we all need to change the way we think to keep up.

A Parliament regulated by the people, no more individual authority, no king… that's a first in Victorian history.

Even I have to admit, she may well be biting off more than she can chew.

Catherine glances at the Speaker, who is sitting on the steps without her expected grace, and can't help but wonder.

Vina is surrounded by the children. They all smile and laugh together.

Every so often, she raises her voice to share jokes about the dukes or what she managed to wrestle from the dukes. Things that belonged to the people.

The sunset's warm light bathes her figure, before slowly fading as the time passes.

I'd say the days ahead will only get better.

She breathes out a ring of smoke, watching as the thin wisps drift away into the dying light.

Parliament has passed a resolution: The crown will be placed on the throne in the Palace of Westhaleg, guarded around the clock by the Defense Forces.

Until a suitable candidate for the throne is identified, the Crown will be guarded by Parliament.

Once a candidate is chosen, a nationwide referendum will be conducted under Parliamentary review and supervision to finalize the coronation.

Additionally, Parliament will soon announce decisions regarding the distribution of living supplies and other public welfare matters—

Ha, Parliamentary supervision.

These meetings are truly exhausting. I much prefer settling matters at a grand banquet.

At least there's wine when my lips are parched. *sigh* Sir Davis is certainly taking his sweet time fetching the wine.

Your Grace, Duke of Caster, where are you headed next?

You already know the answer, so why pretend to ask?

Getting the news from you is quicker than waiting for Wellington's spies to report back.

So how about you, Eleanor?

Your Grace, we're hardly close enough to be exchanging warm farewells.

Your words wound me, Eleanor. I suppose I'll have to present a fine bottle of wine on my next visit to old Normandy and ask him to put in a good word about me to you.

Your carriage has arrived, sir. Allow me to get the door for you.

Much obliged, Earl of March.

And remember, we are all Victorians, after all.

Of course.

Ah, it's been so long since I last heard these bells. The sound brings back memories.

Your Grace, I've brought you one of the finest wines from our cellar!

Even those Sarkaz devils couldn't sniff this one out after they took my estate.

Sir Davis, you are a man of rare wit.

Rest assured, there will always be a place for you in the Gododdin territories.

The Duke of Gododdin takes a sip of the wine and turns to make a remark, but then suddenly freezes.

He is confronted with a stunning sight—

...The sun has set...

The crimson sun sinks slowly, as though setting the entire city ablaze.

The scars the Sarkaz had torn into the city stand out even more vividly in the evening glow, as if they are still bleeding.

(Sneezes) The winter sunset truly shows no mercy.

Ah, much like the Speaker's attitude toward us, I suppose.

I could send someone to deliver a few sets of winter clothing for Your Grace.

Take care of yourself—Victoria isn't ready to do without you just yet.

Many thanks.

After all, we can't very well go before Wellington, can we?

Why the sudden melancholy, Your Graces?

I find this sunset rather breathtaking.

Day fades into night, and night into day—how often do we get to witness such a sight?

Londinium's thick fog and heavy clouds rarely part like this.

Eleanor, back in the day, the lads at school would always joke that it was the sun that had to follow behind Londinium.

It would rise as we please, and never set if we willed it.

Now, though, she has to go full speed just to barely keep up with the setting sun.

That thought keeps me awake at night.

Day or night, sunrise or sunset, only Londinium can be Victoria's capital.

Earl of March, remember my words.

Droll. Very droll indeed.

Hah, the sun really does move.

Another bell tolls.

More black-feathered fowlbeasts stir and take to the skies over the city, circling before flying through the steam towards the setting sun.

As the sun dips out of sight, the glow of the twin moons becomes ever clearer.

Night approaches.