Page 215 of A Courage of the Chosen

“Do you promise to uphold the customs, laws, and traditions of these lands?”

“I promise,” she replies.

“Do you, for as long as you live, accept the role of our queen?”

“I do.”

Lord Garside carefully places the crown on her head and my breath catches.

Whatever magic created this realm shines in the woven silver, and from within the woman that wears it, as though she’s made of it, too. That crown has never looked more at home.

Elsie paces back the ten steps between where she stands and the throne, holding her head high as the Seelie world watches her claim what always belonged to her. She lowers herself into it, her posture composed and a little tense. The moment her back connects with the cracked gold, magic begins to whirl around her skirts, twisting up her legs in ribbons.

Light and dark fill the deep grooves that have ruptured the royal seat, and bit by bit, her power knits it back together. Elsie grips the arms, starting to rise, but I shake my head and she stays frozen, with her fists curled over the crafted edges.

For a century, the story has been told of how it began to break apart when Murdoch was killed. How it was considered a symbol of our fractured world. Now his heir has returned, bringing peace and balance with her, the place from which he ruled so graciously is whole once again.

“Queen Elspeth Aitken-Darrow of Elfayne. Long shall she reign,” Lord Garside booms.

The last groove in the throne fuses back together, and magic shoots for the glass ceiling with a loud boom. Both sides of Elsie’s power ripple through the ground in streaks tinged with the blue of Dhia’s magic, and the gathered crowd murmur as it reaches far beyond the courtyard, the city, and my senses.

Stillness. Tranquility. Serenity. That’s what’s left behind. Like there’s been an impurity to the quality of the air and suddenly it’s lifted, allowing us all to take an untainted breath.

It’s powerful, and liberating.

The throne room explodes in a cheer so loud that Erin claps her hands over her ears.

“LONG LIVE THE QUEEN. LONG LIVE THE QUEEN.”

Elsie’s subjects chant it over and over again, until I’m convinced it can be heard in the afterlife, where so many loved ones will be watching over her.

I’m finding it increasingly harder to swallow.

“They love you, mo sholas, but not as much as I do.”

Her eyes dart to mine as I speak into her mind, and she reaches out a hand for me. I place a kiss on the back of it, and she stands as our fingers knit together as though they were made for each other.

While I’d like to think we were always destined to be here, I’ll be thankful every day that Elsie chose me as hers. Fate might have brought us together, but we gave ourselves to the other willingly.

We wave at the crowd, a queen and her king consort, my official title.

“I think now is a good time to tell me what that means,” she replies, keeping her smile fixed in place.

I press my lips to her temple, sending the court into a renewed cheer.

“My light,” I whisper aloud, the two little words dusting over the shell of her ear.

Her hand freezes mid-wave, and then she graces me with her shy grin, the one reserved only for me.

Since the moment I met Elsie, she’s been my hope, my heart, my everything. By her side, I’ll get to live the kind of life I didn’t dare let myself dream of, until she destroyed every last one of my walls and danced in the rubble.

There’s a long road ahead, still lots of questions we don’t have answers to, people to mourn, and a whole century of war to leave behind. But, like everything else she’s done, Elsie will face it with courage and compassion.

And most importantly, we’ll face it together.

Chapter 65

Elsie - two weeks later