So began their work and their wait.
It was only a matter of months before Bernard’s father passed away, making him King of West.  He was made to wait with great patience and resilience as his advisors and members of court attempted to convince him to take a bride.  He would be waiting a while.
The next heir to succeed their throne was Solaris, her parents having been attacked by bandits of their own lands.
Shortly following their demise, the King of North, becoming world weary and longing for a peaceful, solitary existence in the forests, abdicated his throne, passing the crown to Bud.
Despite the fact that Solaris and Bud now reigned over their own kingdoms, they were unable to wed.  The arrangement was that none would wed until all heirs ascended to their thrones, lest the remaining kingdoms take advantage of their vulnerable, peaceful state. 
It would be too risky to simply withdraw troops of soldiers from where they were stationed, therefore, until Pixie was crowned, the armies would have to be slowly withdrawn under the pretence of restoring order in their homelands.  It turned out that this very pretence was less of a lie and more of an exaggeration.  As more soldiers were reassigned to their home towns, local crimes lessened and bandits became far fewer.  Within a few years, battle stations were manned by an absolute minimum number of people, consequently, battles became lessened and further in between. 
In the meanwhile, the four heirs would make an annual pilgrimage to the ruins.  Every year, for one week, they would congregate.
The ruins, however, no longer looked as such, for over the years, many trusted architects and builders toiled away to resurrect the ancient castle.  Though time consuming and hard labour, the workers built tirelessly for the hope and promise of peace. 
Within five years the castle had been completed.  None who knew of it, could compare its beauty and stature to any other previously existing structure made by mankind.
Around the outskirts of the gardens were erected temporary town-like campsites for each kingdom, that spilled, borderless, into each other.  The encircling encampment became known as Hope, for it was here that hope flowed from.  Seeing its potential, the four collaborators set in motion the work to turn Hope into a city.  So one began to develop, from tents to huts to houses to homes, to a real community. 
A secret city.

The year that marked Pixie’s twenty-fifth, was the year that her parents, in a crime of passion, ended one another's lives.
So it was that the final heir took their throne.
The day of the coronation, an order was sent out to withdraw all troops from their stations in any kingdom that was not their home, as well as messages to the neighbouring Monarchs delivering the news.
Each ruler spread the news of the new city of Hope, where to, they now departed to reside.  Arriving within the same hour as one another gave their meetings a sense of destiny.  The joy that each of them felt was indescribable and before the day was out, a date had been set for the dual weddings of the rulers of the realms.
Such happiness and good will had not been freely shared throughout the kingdoms for countless generations. 
Most people were wary at first.  However, so infectious was the combined joy of the Monarchs with the desire for peace and restoration on the day of the unions, all four kingdoms came together with healing unity to celebrate, not only the marriages, but the dawn of a new era of peace and cohabitation as the borders began to disappear.