Page 152 of Crowned By Roses

My gaze trails all the way up Castletree, its bark shiny, branches bursting with leaves. His life is tied to Castletree. And Castletree survived. A part of Papa must have lived within the roots. And when we brought it back to full strength⁠—

A joyous and heartbreaking sob rings through the air as Mom covers her mouth, tears streaming down her face. She runs, leaping into Papa’s arms. He snatches her around the waist and spins her, then kisses her like it’s the first time in centuries. And for a moment, I see them as they must have been a hundred years ago. The golden light over the Queen’s Realm shines like the sun above Luxor. Their love is as new as it ever was and as resilient as the pyramids they both loved.

Papa pulls away and wipes Mom’s tears with his thumbs. He whispers something to her, and they’re laughing and kissing again. Then her head falls into the crook of his neck, looking as if it’s always belonged there.

For the first time since he emerged, Papa’s gaze lifts from her face. It lands on Wrenley. Her whole body is shaking, hands clenched into fists as if trying to stop it. He doesn’t say anything, just opens up one arm. And my little sister runs into it. He tugs her tight against his chest like he’s known her every single day of her life. And it doesn’t matter that he hasn’t. He’s loved her all the while without even knowing her.

Then Papa looks to me. For so long, I grieved the fact that I never had a chance to say any last words to him before he died. Never got to tell him thank you for the love and the lessons, the hurt and the healing. But now I understand. We never needed words, the two of us.

Papa smiles, soft and knowing and filled with love. I smile back. It was just us two at the beginning. We found each other. And through the rosebush, we found them.

Our family.

And a whole enchanted world.

I run to them, embracing my parents and my sister, knowing this is the beginning of another beautiful adventure.

Dayton

It’s my favorite time of year at Castletree, that period between summer and autumn when the air gets a tiny chill and the green leaves on the boughs stain orange and red and yellow. Soon, the Queen’s Realm will slip into autumn. Our first changing of the seasons at new Castletree.

And stars, I know it’ll just be the start of hundreds more together.

“Daytonales.” A voice snaps me to attention, and I drop the green-orange leaf to the ground. “Didn’t Rosalina want to see you?”

I look up at Marigold, who hovers above me, dusting a high stained-glass window, her small wings fluttering madly to keep her afloat. We’re standing in the gardens, and she’s decided that even the outside of Castletree needs polish.

“Right!” I give her a wink.

There will be an opportunity to ruminate on the seasons later. Today, my queen tasked me with a very important job: to gather everyone.

After all, not every day is your mate’s coronation day.

I move to head inside when I see a couple walking hand in hand. George picks a flower and tucks it behind Aurelia’s rounded ear.

“It’s almost time,” I call to them. “Everyone’s gathering in the east garden!”

“We’ll be there,” Aurelia says with a gleaming smile. She’s got a twinkle in her again since George’s return. Oh, and after Rosalina tied her mother’s life to Castletree, just like George’s life is woven with it.

With Castletree’s health restored, George’s memories have returned. He’s been regaling the staff with all his stories, and I’ve found myself sucked into one or twenty.

Petals fly in the air, and a sunflower-yellow head pokes out of the patch of flowers, shears in hand. Heidigog, Castletree’s new resident gardener, narrows her gaze at George. “Were you picking one of my bloomies?”

George pales and runs a hand through his hair. “Well, I, uh⁠—”

Aurelia gives a tinkling laugh and kisses her husband’s cheek. “You never learn, do you, George? Didn’t picking a flower get you into this whole mess?”

I chuckle and head inside. Sira’s former creatures are slowly finding their places. Caspian has been instrumental in helping them discover where they belong in the realms and the Below.

Which, apparently, is looking quite different. I’ll have to visit Cryptgarden soon. Many of the Elderblood decided to return to the Below and have implemented their solagems as a way to bring daylight to the people down there.

So much life has returned to Castletree in the two short weeks since Sira’s defeat. The castle is a hive of activity, staff in a frenzy putting together last-minute details for Rosalina’s coronation. Ribbons dangle from the ceiling, which is more accessible now that the fae are remembering how to fly. Rosalina doesn’t even need to touch them. It’s as if seeing another fae with wings has awakened something inside us, long forgotten.

I smile at the thought, then smack straight into a brick wall—except it’s not a wall but a six foot five, solid, icy brick of a man. “Sorry, Kel,” I say. “Didn’t think you’d cut me off like that.”

Keldarion glares down at me, scroll in hand. “It’s King Keldarion to you.”