Page 150 of Elysian

“Well, not entirely upset. I am also happy.” I squeezed his hands. “Happy that I have you.” I let out a shuddering breath.

Nothing was perfect, and certain people were fighting against this, but there were efforts spread far and wide to bring fairness to the realm.

That would have been the focus, but too many issues erupted from different areas. Illegal Harvests continued to work in secret. Bluebloods kept their servants sequestered. Hollows swarmed the land, all of various types, causing officers to be spread thin. Battalions, usually three hundred strong, had dwindled to groupings of forty. It was madness throughout villages; redbloods turning on bluebloods and the opposite as well. Creating more Warlords had been a sluggish endeavor, with the Elders and Elite representatives struggling to come to an agreement on who to turn and what those requirements would be.

As we pulled up before the Citadel, a man sat waiting on the steps. I squinted. Damien? He stood as we came to a stop. Cassiel helped me off the carriage.

He saw my black wedding gown.

“You . . .” His eyes flicked to Cassiel, then back to me. “I am terribly sorry to have⁠—”

“Stop it!” I shouted, clasping the bottom of the gown to lift the train. I strode to Damien. “There have been no recent deaths. I was wed.” Cassiel’s shadow cast over me, informing me of how close he followed. Damien watched, completely stunned. The last we had seen him was during Lucinda’s death rites ceremony. A quiet, somber affair where I had left quickly after.

“Go and greet your woman. Vera has been a mess in your absence,” I chastised. Damien grinned, but it quickly faded.

“Your Highness,” Damien muttered. “Matters are worsening. The Elders must decide how to divide the Guard. People are dying in droves.”

I grabbed Cassiel’s hand, bringing his attention to me. We had discussed many, many paths in the rebuilding of Sycarious, and still, they all seemed to have their pitfalls.

What lay ahead would not be an easy feat. I squeezed Cassiel’s hand. But I would not be alone. I would forever have this brutal Warlord at my side.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Waiting

Six moon rotations later

Imoved the nightstand to the other side of the parlor. Brushing my hands together, I stepped back and tucked my hair behind my ear. I touched the ribbon tying half my hair up—the gift from Cassiel.

The Citadel foyer was no longer a cold, icy place once I had a say. The estate was wholly mine and Cassiel’s. Meanwhile, Cassiel handed over the House of Lords to the Resistance to help aid villagers and establish a new decision-making system.

“My lady, I am happy to bring you more warm tea,” Velma said, holding onto her apron.

“I am fine,” I said—again. They were more anxious about this than I was for my first heat.

“He has returned every end of the sennight without fail. He will return,” Branwen mumbled. Unless he had taken heed of my request. He wore himself thin these few moon rotations, but the Hollow attacks had only worsened.

“Everything will be fine,” Tabby kept repeating, striding from one end of the parlor to the other.

“You mustn’t strain yourself,” I chastised Tabby. “Allow me to use my borrowed gift.”

If Vera were here and not off on her adventures with Damien, then she could do it herself. Tabby chewed on her lip, considering, but I walked over to her and held my hand out.

“I am sorry. This is making me mad.” She waved at her slightly swollen belly. She and Archer were expecting their child to be born sometime in the next moon rotation.

She sighed and slid her palm onto mine.

I closed my eyes, seeking that pressure in my breastbone. Warmth surged forth and tingled at my palms. Tabby’s sigh prompted my eyes to open. A serene smile flitted across her lips.

If only she had attempted using our mirroring gift, but she seemed terrified of magick. An ordinary thing now that she was with child.

“Velma, did you ensure the preventative tonic has not expired?”

“Yes, m’lady,” Velma said.

As much as I attempted to correct everyone who addressed me by my title, it had not worked. Cassiel remained King, and upon our wedding, I was named his consort which came with its own form of prestige, but not from all. Many were disgusted by my new position.

Some bluebloods continued to refuse to associate or mingle with redbloods. The laws had been dissolved, but it would take more than that to remove decades of instilled prejudice.