Epilogue
As Annalise looked out over the Dovean court room, she wondered for the thousandth time if she was dreaming. The reassuring presence of the throne at her back comforted her; its cold stone was a reminder of the many generations before who’d sat there and doled out judgments to the kingdom–some for better and others for worse.
She certainly wasn’t the first Dovean monarch, or the youngest, but Annalise hoped she would be known for her compassion, mercy, and just rulings, and that the shadow her father had long cast over the court would soon only be a distant memory.
“You may let the petitioners in,” she said to the head seneschal, who bowed and motioned for the doors of the throne room to open.
It was the first time she’d presided over the court as Queen, and Annalise couldn’t help but fear that she was unworthy. As she waited for the lords and ladies of the court to enter and find their places, she clenched her fist and dug her fingernails into her palm until it smarted.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t wake up.
Stop that, or I’ll nip you. If you’re going to make me feel pain, I might as well be the cause of it, Gryna’s voice whispered in her head, breaking her concentration and bringing a smile to Annalise’s face. Her rhys may be sassy, but she had Annalise’s best interests at heart. She reached to the side and stroked Gryna’s fiery chestnut wing in apology, marveling at the silken soft feathers. The mare flicked her ear at Annalise, then turned her head and nuzzled her hand. If they’re going to make you fret, I’ll trample them all.
Thank you, Gryna. After this we can go for a ride and I’ll give you an extra carrot for supper, Annalise responded.
A chuckle at her side made her turn. Soren sat next to her, a thin silver crown on his head. When they made eye contact, his grin stretched into a smile, and he reached for her. “Worried that you’re still asleep?”
“Yes, a notion Gryna was swift to disabuse me of. How did you know?” The sensation of his skin on hers was the most comforting thing in the world. His calluses rasped across the back of her hand, and Annalise allowed herself to fully relax.
“I feel the same way. Every day I wake up wondering if it was all a dream, and every time I look at you I give thanks to the Goddess all over again.”
A contingent of guards led by former-Lieutenant-now-Captain Rorarck marched down the aisle, saluted Annalise, and then turned as one.
“High General, why the theatrics?” Annalise asked.
General Kierson, High General of the Dovean army and Annalise’s father-in-law, stepped forward from his station on the other side of Gryna, coming abreast with the throne. “Lord Adrilla has requested your first audience as queen, as is his right, considering he’s not had his titles removed yet.”
“Ah. I see.”
“My Queen, you can always delay this for another time when it’s not in front of the entire court; you don’t have to face him today,” Soren said.
Annalise watched the old gentleman walk down the center aisle flanked by guards. He had lost weight since she had last seen him. Several feet behind him, his daughter Evelina followed, although only one guard stood at her side.
Lord Adrilla, the man who’d killed King Everet, stood before her.
It had been three months since King Everet’s death, two months since Annalise’s return to Dovea, and the sight of Lord Adrilla reminded her of her entire Rhinnean ordeal.
Queen Codela offered the Doveans the use of the castle for as long as they needed, but with Soren’s wounds fully healed and Annalise ready to return to Dovea, they left the castle as soon as the Dovean guards were called back from the countryside. She and Codela parted on good terms, with promises of an exchange of ambassadors and possibilities of mutual defense treaties left hanging in the air.
They’d returned to Dovea by boat from a fishing village on the northeastern edge of the Rhinnean kingdom and, after a month’s journey, were welcomed back with open arms. She’d sent a messenger pigeon ahead, apprising High General Kierson of the turn of events with King Nelan, and as she’d hoped, he kept her throne safe from all machinations during her journey around the continent to the warm-water port of Vintreal, the neighboring kingdom to their south. The High General waited for their return in the southern Dovean city of Frasous, and swore loyalty to Annalise as soon as her feet touched Dovean soil.
The past two months had been a whirlwind of diplomacy, statecraft, and events, but she’d persevered.
“Queen Annalise, do you wish to hear him?” High General Kierson asked.
Annalise shook herself from her thoughts and nodded. “Yes, bring him forward.” One of Annalise’s first unofficial acts upon returning to the castle was to ensure that Lord Adrilla and his daughter were moved from the damp and moldy dungeon to a well-guarded suite of plain but clean rooms.
Her hand found Soren’s, and the squeeze of his fingers helped her calm her breathing. She exchanged glances with her husband and took immeasurable comfort in his steadfast love and loyalty.
Lord Adrilla took several steps forward, then fell to his knees in front of Annalise, head bowed. “Please, Your Majesties, King Soren and Queen Annalise, hear my plea.”
“It’s Queen Annalise and King Consort Soren, actually,” Soren said, interrupting the lord before he could continue on.
Annalise fought to hold back a smile as Lord Adrilla looked up, flummoxed. “Excuse me?”
“She is your monarch; I am the King Consort, which means I’m approximately three steps above the role of royal lapdog. The only real power I hold is through however I can sway Queen Annalise’s decision making, which really isn’t much considering how stubborn she can be sometimes.”
Three steps above royal lapdog and one step below royal rhys, Gryna said with a mental whinny.
Try as she might, Annalise couldn’t stop the smallest snort from escaping, her mouth turning up at the corners. She’d spent far too long hiding her face behind a mask, and her control over her facial expressions was still lacking.
Soren had a point—he was King Consort, although it was his own decision. Annalise had offered to marry him as soon as they’d stepped foot on Dovean soil, but he’d not wanted to complicate things for the new Dovean queen and had insisted they wait until her hold on the throne was secure. They still told his father and a few of their closest friends, and the day after Annalise was crowned, during one of their sunset walks, Soren had officially asked for her hand.
They were married a week later. It would have been sooner, but she’d offered him the title of king and he’d insisted on prince consort. The lighthearted negotiations had delayed the wedding several days, and they’d finally settled on the agreement that he would accept the title of King Consort, as long as she allowed him to loudly and stridently correct anyone who called him by the wrong title. Every day, Annalise felt like she fell a little more in love with him than she already was, and he’d hardly left her side or stopped touching her since their wedding.
She tapped the back of his hand as if in reproach, and Soren smiled down at the very confused-lord still kneeling in front of them. “Don’t worry, Lord Adrilla, I take no offense and simply meant to educate.”
“Lord Adrilla, please present your case,” Annalise said.
With a gulp, the man rocked to his feet and stood with his hands folded in front of him.
“I won’t try to lie to you and sugarcoat what I did, Your Majesty, but I beg you to have mercy on my daughter. King Everet saw that she was beautiful, young, naïve, and unknowing of the ways of his court and sought to take advantage of her. I heard her screaming for help and rushed in, dealing a mortal blow to the king before I recognized who he was.”
“Do you regret your actions?”
Lord Adrilla’s jaw tensed, and he stuck his head forward, giving a brief impression of a large bearhound. His daughter, Lady Evelina, placed her hand on his arm, but he shrugged her off and rolled his neck. “To be honest, no, I do not. King Everet had already approached me and asked for my blessing to pursue Evelina, but I didn’t want any of it. We are an old family and we keep to the old ways; none of this stallion and his herd of broodmare stuff that his late majesty preferred. He thought that what I refused to allow him he could convince Evelina to give, and when that failed, he reverted to force. A king like that is no king at all.”
At his words, a flurry of whispers and conversation broke out across the court. Several courtiers crowded closer as if sensing blood in the water. Annalise ignored them, watching first Lord Adrilla, and then his daughter, who stood half a pace behind him. The young lady was approximately Annalise’s age, and she couldn’t help but feel disgusted at the liberties her father had attempted simply because of the crown on his head.
“Lady Evelina, tell me how the past few months have treated you,” Annalise said once the whispers died down.
The woman dipped into a low curtsy. She wore a pale yellow gown embroidered with orange flowers, and her curly brunette hair was pulled back and styled in a simple bun. “Your Majesty, I have hardly eaten or slept for fear of what will happen to my father. My mother died years ago from a wasting sickness, and she could not attend court for several years before. I begged my father to bring me to court this year; it’s my fault I was here at all.” Evelina paused and swallowed; her eyes glistened with tears. Annalise thought she was either a very good actress, or she was completely overwhelmed. Taking in the woman’s dress, which hung loosely on her frame, the gauntness in her face, and Lord Adrilla’s persistent cough, she judged it was the latter. After a pause so long it turned awkward, Evelina finally gathered herself. “But, to answer your question, I am extremely grateful that you allowed him to move out of the dungeon and to recuperate in his rooms. It has been a…difficult time.”
“I can imagine, especially considering your father’s distinguished age,” Annalise said.
“The healer who helped us, Alaric, has made things easier, especially once he didn’t have to sneak father his cough medications any more.” Evelina gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth.
Annalise smiled. “Don’t worry, I won’t punish a healer for doing his Goddess-blessed duty. In fact, I’ll recommend him to Guildmaster Trenk. It takes great courage to do what is right in the face of adversity and deserves to be commended for it.”
Evelina bent her head and dropped into a deep curtsy. “Oh thank you, Your Majesty. Thank you for your understanding and for your graciousness in allowing him out of the dungeon. Please, if I may be so bold, I have one request of you: my father is old, and the cold doesn’t agree with his bones. If you punish someone, please let it be me. If it weren’t for my foolishness, he would not have made the mistake he did.”
Annalise thought for a moment, weighing her options, even if she already had a good idea of what she would decree. It was to be her first official ruling on a court day, and she didn’t wish to appear hasty. In fact, she’d spent several hours over the past week mulling over the case, and had spoken at length with Alaric about the care he’d given Lord Adrilla in between his time spent tending Larken, who was progressing well with her pregnancy but had declined to appear at court functions.
Several minutes later, Annalise had finally decided. “The punishment for murder is death, and regicide is both murder and treason. Therefore, it would be entirely within my right to sentence Lord Adrilla to execution—” Evelina’s shoulders slumped, and Lord Adrilla dipped his snowy white head. “—however, I don’t believe that is a fair punishment for the circumstances of the crime. Lord Adrilla, did you plan to kill my father at any point prior to dealing the blow?”
His mouth opened and shut like a fish before he finally sputtered out words. “Of course not, Your Majesty! I’ve been loyal to the crown since I was old enough to know what it was. When I was a younger man, I sent troops and supplies to the front lines and did whatever I could to aid your father and your grandfather in their wars against Rhinnea. I assure you, if I had even one treasonous thought I would not be begging for your forgiveness and mercy now.”
She nodded and leaned forward. “I believe you, and your long history of steadfast support for the crown speaks for itself. That is why, Lord Adrilla, I will give you the honor of being the first to swear loyalty to me in front of the entire court.” Annalise held up her right hand, gloveless and adorned with the Dovean ring of state. “As this court knows, I’ve spent much of my life cursed. What we have recently discovered is that the curse is also a blessing—those who touch me and have good in their heart and no ill intentions towards me are healed, while those who are hateful or wish me ill suffer death. Lord Adrilla, I offer you this chance to clear your name: take my hand and kiss my ring, or spend the rest of your life in the dungeons of Dovelan.”
“I will take your hand and kiss your ring, Your Majesty, and gladly so. I’ve heard a great deal of your kindness and fairness and have no fear of what your magic may say about me.” Lord Adrilla stepped forward and was immediately stopped by the guards, who crossed their spears. At a word from Annalise, he and his daughter were both allowed to approach.
Annalise’s heart sped up as she gave Lord Adrilla her hand—after some experimenting with certain sickly individuals in the care of the Healer’s Guild, as well as a few unfortunate incidents at the Rhinnean court before she left, she was almost positive that they’d finally unlocked the secret of her curse. However, old fears died hard, and at the last second she fought to keep her hand steady and not snatch it away.
Lord Adrilla took her hand without hesitation, and after he kissed her ring, he knelt before her and swore his loyalty. The collective inhale of the court turned to cheers when he stood tall with no sign of disease or injury and bowed before her.
His daughter was next, and when she also stood without injury, Annalise smiled tenderly at her. “Please, Lady Evelina, I understand that these past few months have been rather traumatic for you, but you are welcome to stay at court for as long as you like under my invitation. I fear that we have not been as hospitable to you as you deserve, and I would like to build my court into one safe and welcoming to all.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I must speak with my father as to his plans, but your invitation is greatly appreciated,” Lady Evelina said with a deep curtsy.
After Lord Adrilla hopped off the dais with a pep in his step that was more suitable to a gentleman thirty years younger, there was a veritable rush on the throne with lords, ladies, and other courtiers battling as much as civility allowed for a chance to prove their loyalty.
In between people, Annalise glanced at Soren, who was watching the entire proceeding somberly. She was amused at how seriously he still took his job as her protector. When she’d given him the title of King Consort, she’d offered him new lands, titles, and riches, but he’d declined them all. Even now, he wore his crown about as comfortably as if it were a pair of shoes a size too small.
Soren caught her gaze and spared a smile for her before his expression returned to a scowl at all who approached. He played the part of brooding consort almost too well—if she hadn’t watched him practice in the mirror when they’d bathed together, she might have thought he was actually serious.
Her thoughts turned unbidden to what happened the night before when he tired of her attempts to distract him though kisses and caresses, and a flush of heat suffused her cheeks, even as their laughter, the sloshing of water, and the sensation of his wet skin on hers echoed in her ears and danced across her skin like a ghost’s touch. She managed to school her expression before the next supplicant, but judging from the smirk that flashed across Soren’s face, he’d seen her gaze and guessed what she’d been thinking about.
Later, after they’d finished their court session for the day, she asked him about what he thought of his first day in court by her side as they walked through the castle gardens towards the stables. Spring had come to Dovea, chasing away the cold winter frost and blanketing the bushes and trees in delicate green buds that had just begun to unfurl.
Soren laughed and squeezed her hand. “To be honest, I was afraid of saying something rather dumb. The last thing you need to worry about is your court thinking you’ve chosen a dolt for a husband.”
“I doubt they’d ever think that. If you ever hear whispers, just let me know, and I’ll make a proclamation banning anyone from gossiping about your intelligence.” Annalise paused for his laughter before fully facing him. “You are going to make a wonderful king, Soren.”
“A wonderful king consort, you mean. And thank you; you’re going to be the best queen that Dovea’s ever had.” Soren kissed Annalise gently, like she was a final winter snowflake that might melt before enfolding her in his arms.
“I hope I’ll be half as good a queen as you seem to think,” she whispered into his chest.
“You’re already a far better monarch than your father; we are at peace with Rhinnea, the nobles are happy that you’ve promised to raise their taxes no higher, and the peasants were ecstatic at the news of your new food and housing initiatives.”
Sometimes I think you humans are just like magpies; always worrying about shiny, useless coins instead of enjoying fresh water and a good meadow of grass, Gryna chimed in as she walked behind them.
“Yes, well, it’s amazing how much coin is freed up when one doesn’t spend on food and drink for useless courtiers and concubines and instead works to make sure the people who built this country with the labor of their bodies are taken care of and feel secure. Really, the decision was the easiest thing. It’s nothing,” Annalise said dryly.
“It’s not nothing; I’ve travelled all over and it’s a rare monarch indeed who is so willing to put their people’s needs over their own.” Soren’s hand rubbed Annalise’s back soothingly, and she sighed against him.
A polite cough caused Annalise to step away from her husband, and she gave a cry of delight when she saw who was waiting for her further down the path.
“Oh, I’m so glad that you could come, Aunt Helene!” she cried as she hurried towards the older woman and the large dark brown rhys that stood at her side.
Gryna and Brunen nickered back and forth before the chestnut mare trotted past Annalise with her head and tail high and led Brunen to the stables where Annalise guessed her mate, a gray stallion named Lavinor, waited for their afternoon flight.
Helene held her arms out to Annalise. “I know I’m late, and I’m still terribly upset that I missed your wedding, but there were a few loose ends to tie up in Murana before I could make an extended trip; I didn’t feel right leaving when we were in the midst of trade negotiations with Rhinnea and her new monarch.”
“I completely understand. How is Queen Codela doing?”
“Fabulously. She’s still got a little way to go before she gets her court whipped into shape, but she’s making wonderful progress. I have every hope that the two of you can forever break the cycle of war between Rhinnea and Dovea.”
“I am so glad to hear that. We have fought each other for far too long, and our rumored enemies are too strong to continue the feud.” Annalise hugged Helene tightly. “And my cousin? How is Lord Linnean settling into his chieftainship?”
“Like a duck to water–serene on the outside, paddling furiously underneath. He was most grateful for my help; even if technically it just came from a regular citizen.”
Annalise’s smile faltered at the thought of what her aunt had given up. “I’m sorry that you had to abdicate your throne, especially considering how you didn’t need to do so in the grand scheme of things.”
Helene waved her hand in the air as if dismissing Annalise’s apology like it was a fruit fly. “None of that; none of us knows what might have happened if you didn’t have our backup at such a crucial moment. It’s really no trouble at all, and this way I can visit you as often as I would like without having to worry about pesky matters of state.”
Annalise opened her mouth to reply, but paused when Gryna’s voice floated into her head.
You promised me a fine ride this afternoon, Bright One. The spring sun is warm, and the wind ruffles my feathers.
I’m sorry, Gryna. I’ll be there shortly.
Gryna’s faint whinny echoed through her head. Tell your husband that Lavinor waits for him.
You and Lavinor both know that Soren’s afraid of heights.
As if my mate would let his rider fall.
“Judging from your expressions, the rhys are talking again,” Soren said as he looked between the two women standing in front of him.
“Brunen is getting impatient. She wants to put Gryna and Annalise through their paces and see how their bond is developing,” Helene said.
“Gryna is impatient as well, and wanted me to make sure you knew that Lavinor would be more than happy for you to come along if you wanted a front-row seat,” Annalise added.
Soren smiled. “I’ll leave the rhys riding to you, my beautiful wife.”
At just that moment, with a great flap of wings, Brunen and Gryna descended into the garden. Lavinor, the great gray stallion, circled overhead.
“Gryna says that Lavinor wouldn’t let you fall,” Annalise said as she ran her hands over Gryna’s saddle and trappings. She always preferred to be the one to tack the mare, but sometimes Gryna bullied the stable hands into the work if she was particularly impatient.
“I’ll think about it. Maybe one day. Tell him I said hello and that I think he looks magnificent,” Soren said, waving to the stallion above.
Annalise put her hands on Soren’s chest and rocked up onto her toes so she could press a kiss to his lips. “We’ll be back in a few hours.”
He returned her kiss and then boosted her into the saddle. “You two have fun. I’ll hold the fort down here.”
Her hand cupped his warm, soft cheek. “I love you.”
His eyes were alight with warmth, and his smile made her heart sing. “I love you too. Go, enjoy yourself. I’ll be waiting for you to get back.”
At one word from Annalise, Gryna shot forward like an arrow from a bow. She took four huge galloping strides, then launched herself into the air.
The wind whistled around Annalise, and she laughed from the sheer exhilaration of it all. The bright spring sun glinted off Gryna’s wings, and the blue sky above beckoned.
She was home. She was loved. She was free.
THE END
Author’s Note: Once again, thank you SO MUCH from the bottom of my heart for reading this story of mine. If you’d like to see some character artwork of Annalise, Soren, and Gryna, hop on over to @melodycraneauthor on Instagram!