The world seems to stop for one endless heartbeat.
Then the light fades. Silence drapes over the meadow. Warm. Peaceful. Final.
I open my eyes slowly. The kings are already kneeling before me. All four of them.
Emotion swells so hard it almost hurts. “You don’t have to kneel to me,” I whisper.
“Yes,” Oberon says roughly. “We do.”
“You’re our queen now,” Ashton adds softly.
“Our choice,” Sylvian says.
“Our future,” Cassius finishes.
Tears blur my vision before I can stop them.
And standing there in the sunlight, wearing the crown while the four most powerful fae in the realm kneel willingly at my feet, I realize this was never about power. It was about love. About choosing each other. About building something stronger than fear or hatred or the endless wars that came before us.
Something lasting.
Something worthy.
A moment later, a figure stands before us, radiating an otherworldly glow that makes my heart skip a beat. The goddess Varua. Her hair flows like liquid gold, shimmering in the light, and her eyes sparkle with the brilliance of a thousand stars. I feel small under her gaze, but not insignificant. More like a single thread in an infinite tapestry, essential to the whole.
Beside me, my men stand. Ready to protect me if need be. Even from the goddess herself.
“You have done well,” Varua says, her voice echoing with a divine resonance. She looks at me first, then each of the kings in turn, her expression both stern and approving. “You have passed my final test. The test to see if you could put aside your petty differences and put your people above all else. To stop the fighting.”
Her words send a chill through me. If any of them had taken the crown… they would have failed. I glance at Oberon, Ashton, Sylvian, and Cassius, their expressions reflecting the same realization. The weight of what could have been settles over us like a shadow, and my heart sinks at the thought of what could have happened.
Varua’s gaze sharpens as she turns to me, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. “And you,” she says, her tone softer now, almost maternal. “You, Alette, will make a fine queen. You have shown strength, compassion, and a willingness to sacrifice for those you once hated. These are the qualities of a true ruler.”
My throat tightens, and I force myself to speak, the words barely more than a whisper. “Are you… sure?”
Varua’s lips curve into a faint, knowing smile. “Humility is another mark of greatness. You may be human, but your heart is stronger than most who have walked these lands. You see beyond power. Beyond pride. You choose connection where others choose division.”
Her gaze lingers on me, deep and searching, as though she is weighing something far older than this moment.
“You will unite the fae,” she continues, her voice steady and certain. “And with these kings at your side, you will bring peace to a fractured world.”
The words settle heavily over me, but before I can respond, her expression shifts, becoming more formal, more ancient, moreregal.
“And know this,” she adds, her voice carrying now, echoing faintly across the meadow. “The crown is not merely a symbol of rule. It is a binding. A transformation.”
A chill traces down my spine.
“You will no longer be bound by the fragile limits of mortal life. The crown will remake you. Time will no longer claim you as it does other humans.”
I forget to breathe for a second.
Immortality.The word isn’t spoken, but it hums beneath everything she says.
“It would not serve the fae,” Varua says, her tone turning almost wry, “to place their future in the hands of a queen they must one day bury.”
Her gaze softens, though the weight of her words remains.
“Nor would it be fitting,” she adds more quietly, “for four kings to claim a bride only to watch her fade while they endure.”
