Page 33 of The Last Knight (The Cursed Kingdom #5)

G unther was the first to arrive home, the sound of the car pulling away fading into the quiet hum of the afternoon. The familiar sight of Ashcraig House greeted him, solid, unmoving,constant. A strange sensation settled over him as he stepped inside, as if the house itself held its breath.

The moment he crossed the threshold, a sharp meow echoed from the hallway. Oscar, the house cat and reigning monarch of the manor, sat poised with expectant eyes.

“What is it you require, Sir Oscar?” Gunther asked with a faint smile. “Food? A scratch? Or shall I open your private exit?”

Oscar turned, tail straight up, and trotted toward the kitchen, not even glancing back. Gunther followed, expecting the cat to lead him to his food bowl, but instead Oscar went to the back French doors, pawing at one insistently.

“Very well,” Gunther muttered with amusement, reaching for the handle. But then he froze.

A familiar figure stood in the garden.

Sterling.

Bathed in a wash of golden sunlight, the prince looked like something he was, a man caught between this world and another. His silver-blond hair caught the breeze, and his otherworldly gaze moved slowly over the garden with curiosity.

Gunther opened the door and stepped out into the warmth of the day. Oscar promptly flopped down on the sunlit step with a satisfied grunt, indifferent to the weight of the moment unfolding.

“You’re here,” Gunther said softly, approaching Sterling. His voice sounded gruff to his own ears.

“I am,” the prince replied, turning his luminous eyes on him. “I had to make sure you were well. I wasn’t certain you would…survive.”

Gunther stepped closer and placed a hand on Sterling’s shoulder, grounding himself in the moment. “It was you who brought me here,” he said, though he already knew the answer.

Sterling gave a slight nod.

“I returned to where I’d last seen you…to bury you properly. You deserved the honor of a warrior.” His voice caught faintly, just for a second. “Instead, I found you, barely breathing, broken, but alive.”

He glanced toward the house, then back at Gunther. “So, I brought you here, to your realm. I thought perhaps your healers could succeed in saving your life. And if not…at least you would be, as you’ve always wished, in your realm when the end came.”

Gunther’s throat tightened. The depth of emotion, the unspoken bond, rose like a tide inside him, and he had to blink back tears. “There’s no way I can ever repay you for what you’ve done.”

Sterling met his gaze, his expression calm but filled with quiet affection. “It is never about repayment. You are my friend, Gunther. That is enough.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the breeze stirring the trees around them, birdsong echoing faintly in the distance. There was nothing else to say. Everything important had already been spoken.

“I won’t see you again,” Gunther said, his voice husky and he cleared his throat.

Sterling nodded once, the gesture small, solemn. He reached out and placed his hand over Gunther’s shoulder, firm, grounding, final, and held his gaze with warmth and something achingly eternal.

Then, he simply faded.

Gunther remained there long after, standing beneath the canopy of leaves, head bowed. Tears slid silently down his cheeks, not of sorrow, but of gratitude.

He was finally home.

And he had been brought there, not by chance, but by a friend who had crossed worlds to give him one last gift.