“I’ll never get tired of it, you know. I’ll never stop wanting to hear you say it.”
Her lips brushed mine. “I love you, my husband. I do very much love you.”
Epilogue
“It is unfortunate, Mistress,”Piffle whispered in my ear, “that the Lady Seraphine was not here for last year’s color.”
I stole a glance in her direction. She sat next to Korven, draped in a deep pine green—the year’s color of the Sprouting Festival. Both of them listened to my husband addressing his people at the podium in the center of Heartstone Wood. Seraphine held their baby, grinning broadly as Arthur spoke with more kindness and wisdom than any king his people had ever known.
Korven frowned, attempting to keep their wild little Avici in his lap.
“I agree with you, Piff. Though, Seraphine’s beauty has no limitations.”
He hummed, nodding. “Do you think she might accept a gown from me?”
I held back a laugh. “Have you already made it?”
“You know me well, Mistress,” he giggled and I joined him, pressing my lips together tightly when Killian frowned my way.
“What are you whispering about?” Morella leaned in to ask, ignoring the elbow jab from her husband.
“Beautiful gowns,” I said under my breath, bringing my attention back to Arthur.
“And so, it is with humility and great honor that I welcome you all to the first day of the Sprouting Festival, not as your king, but as a man ready to lead his people and deliver prosperity throughout all of Heartstone Wood.”
Cheers erupted from the stands with almost everyone bolting from their seats, clapping and tossing petals into the air.
Seraphine nudged my son and he rose with reluctance, tossing his firstborn, Avici, up onto his shoulders and holding her legs in place—no doubt so he wouldn’t need to partake in the applause.
Two months after the curse breaking, Arthur had finally been able to control the Beast well enough to return to the surface without the monster taking over—just in time for the start of the Sprouting Festival and the first family gathering of the royal Ravenfae.
As the crowd dispersed to begin the festivities, I met Arthur on the stage, kissing him soundly.
“Give me the truth, wife. How was my speech?”
“Kingly. Endearing.” I pulled him close, whispering in his ear, “Will you wear the crown tonight when you fuck me, husband?”
His breathy laugh tickled my skin. “Tonight? Why the wait? I imagine there must be a?—”
“King Arthur,” Killian interrupted.
I moved aside to greet him, threading my fingers through Arthur’s.
Killian held out his hand, king to king. “Good speech.”
“Arthur!” Morella burst, squeezing in front of Killian and wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek. “You were brilliant! Did you see the crowd? They were hanging on your every word!”
My husband laughed. “Thank you, Morella, for the praiseand for attending. Your mother has not paused a moment in planning your stay in Heartstone for weeks now.”
Morella’s face lit with joy. “Will you join us for the festivities, then? I hear it is tradition to play word games with the names of the flowers that grow here, is that true?” She didn’t let him answer as he opened his mouth to speak. “I would love to try my hand at it! I think I’d do well!”
Killian grabbed her waist, her belly rounded with child. “You would crush any competition, Moh Dhóches.”
They stared at each other in heated silence and my eyes darted back and forth between them with a brow raised.
Arthur kissed my cheek and hid a chuckle. “Well, yes, I’d be happy to join you just as soon as I borrow your mother for a few?—”
“Arthur!” It was Seraphine’s turn, shoving her way through the King and Queen of the Citrine Cliffs. She threw her arms around him and he caught her there, squeezing her tightly.
