“Admittedly,” he said, “my mother was more present in Rey’s life than Isla. Reyana loved her mother, but... She didn’t know her well. That was a choice Isla made, and it is a choice we’ll have to live with.”
It was a brutal yet honest truth. Deckard prayed he would never have to make such a choice regarding his children.
Deckard and Evylin, too, had undergone significant changes since their journey began. Almost a year ago, when Deckard arrived in the quaint Whickam Village, he had no idea he was on the verge of a life-altering introduction. Upon entering that dining room, he’d encountered the most notable woman in existence—the extraordinary, resilient, and adventurous individual who, by some stroke of Allore’s will, became his wife.
What began as a mutually beneficial arrangement evolved into what Deckard could only describe as a magical union. Or perhaps, better stated, the divine influence of Allore’s power flowing through their veins.
Regardless of its origins, the undeniable connection between Deckard and Evylin was something that neither could articulate. And he didn’t often desire to attempt to do so.
He was simply content to love the woman who had changed his life forever.
Too soon, their leave expired, and the day of coronation arrived.
Following a late night spent in the company of their friends, Deckard and Evylin enjoyed a prolonged morning in bed. Mrs. Wilumson finally roused them by persistently knocking on their door until they awoke. Almost immediately, she directed Deckard out of the room to allow the servants to prepare them for the coronation.
“We are married, Mrs. Wilumson,” Evylin said, laughing as the older woman nearly pushed Deckard out the door. “There’s no reason Jonn and I can’t dress in the same room.”
“This is a special occasion, dear,” Mrs. Wilumson argued. “You’ll both thank me later.”
With that, the door closed in Deckard’s face. A servant instructed him to follow to the next room. Over an hour later, Deckard appeared in an all-black uniform adorned with fine fabrics and intricate golden embroidery that made him feel both regal and confined, like a bird in a gilded cage. He was requested to bear the Relic and to leave it hanging to glitter over his coat. The servant clarified that each Mage and Warrior involved in the ceremony had received specific outfits tailored to their resource and province.
Deckard contemplated that Loclight, as the site of the Order of the Heavens, would present a somewhat somber image, considering the dark attire they were obliged to don. At least, that was his thought until Evylin graced him with her presence in the foyer. He had regarded her as spectacular on numerous occasions in the past; however, she now represented a truly royal transformation. The lustrous silk of her obsidian gown billowed around her like a crystalline shadow, with only the bodice tailored to her figure, covered in shining silver beads like stars, while the skirt and cape-like sleeves flowed elegantly around her.
The servants had styled her hair in an elegant bun, keeping the off-the-shoulder neckline exposed. She’d donned her usual rosette necklace, and the moonstone dagger was secured at her waist. Her silver and onyx earrings glimmered in the light, and her dimples revealed her amusement as he gazed upon her.
“That’s quite the expression you’re wearing,” she teased, standing before him.
Deckard took her hands but spoke to Mrs. Wilumson instead. “My apologies, ma’am,” he said. “You were right. This is a wonderful surprise.”
“You look quite dashing yourself,” Evylin said, straightening his already perfectly straight cravat. “Such kingly attire! A crown will suit you quite nicely.”
That caused Deckard to frown. “We don’t have to wear crowns, do we?”
Brea entered, wearing a black gown, which had a distinctly militaristic flair. “Of course not,” she replied, flashing him a knowing smile. “Crowns are unnecessary and ostentatious.”
“Thank Allore.”
Brea continued as if he hadn’t replied. “Youwillwear an insignia befitting your station, however.”
Deckard, both intrigued and concerned, arched his brow at her. “I take it I’ll get jewelry, and Evylin will receive a weapon.”
The women laughed, but Brea neither confirmed nor denied the assumption. Thom, Calyn, Ethenn, Ilain, Vayden, and Reyana all arrived in the parlor shortly, each dressed in black. Deckard scanned their friends. He thought to ask why they’d wear the color of Space as well, but he realized the significance readily: This was their means of showing their support and allegiance to Deckard and Evylin.
For a spare moment, Deckard thought he might cry. Then a gentle sweep of encouragement from Evylin met him in the air, and he bolstered his emotions.
“Thank you all,” Deckard said, meeting each of their gazes. “This is...”
Smiles met his pause as his friends—hisfamily—awaited his final words. Evylin slipped her hand under his arm, looking up at him with radiant joy.
Deckard lifted his chin. “I don’t deserve this life,” he said. “A year ago, I accepted a mission that I hoped would propel me one step forward in my career. Instead, it brought me all of you. I wish I could say I was selfless enough not to desire this moment. That would be a lie.
“Since I was a boy, I hoped to matter in this world. On the cusp of becoming an oligarch,” he scoffed at the sentiment, “I find myself doubting my ability to lead justly. Yet, I know now that the future isn’t solely up to me.”
Deckard set his hand on Evylin’s, meeting her rich brown gaze. “My success isn’t mine alone. I only fail if I forget to rely on those standing beside me. My desire was to be like Euon Sergus—a legend the world could never forget. But I forgot the key to Sergus’s success. Which is rather embarrassing because I spent nearly three months making the same speech at every settlement in the Shires.”
Chuckles met his self-mocking statement.
Running his thumb along his wife’s fingers, which were curled around his bicep, Deckard turned to scan his troop. “With his dying breath, Sergus didn’t take credit for his actions. He simply said he’d done his duty, and the men who aided him were the only thing that made his actions possible.”
