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“All my mother’s witches have their powers back. You have nothing to fear.”
“I am sorry to leave you at a time like this, but I will come back soon before the baby comes.”
He kept his promise. For half the year, he remained in Prozeus, rebuilding the Great Hall and its environs. A wall had been built around the palace for better protection. He sent letters saying how he was even more determined to keep the place safe for our child.
Rowali was ecstatic when she found out about the baby. She spent many afternoons holding my belly. Each time, her hands seemed to measure my girth.
“I cannot wait to see your little one, Luella!” she exclaimed.
When I looked at her, I started seeing the woman she would become. At fourteen, she was about my height, her dark braid reaching her waist. The Arrowspear girl dressed in Mogochislenian clothes, with flared sleeves and long hems. She said she did not do it because it was expected but preferred them over the flimsier dresses of Arrowspear. I told her that she was only finally feeling the cooler weather of the continent, and she only nodded at that.
Razuku, Cora, and Eli had accompanied their king to Prozeus. Razuku had asked for Cora’s hand in marriage, much to the latter’s delight. They said they would wait for my child and me before formalizing their betrothal and marriage. I was overjoyed.
When Ardere came out in the spring, his father was there. We were not like any other couples in Mogochislenia. He did not wait outside the door. Instead, he was there inside, holding my hand. He was there when I pushed out the beautiful baby boy, who lustfully cried right after the world welcomed him. He was there when some flames simmered over my skin and dissipated as soon as Ardere was born.
He was born on fire.
The warlock physician made a little cry, and his midwife screamed. They had never seen anything like it. Before Metheus could hold the baby to stop the flames, they died. Because he was born ablaze, we called him Ardere.
After his first year, we set off to travel back to Arrowspear. My mother wept. It was not like her to show strong emotions. I might have made her weep more than Samuel had, more than Carolina had. I promised that Ardere would visit Queenspell frequently. I also told her of my thoughts about my niece Magda becoming queen one day. My mother smiled through her tears. She knew I was right. Ardere was meant to be the king of Prozeus one day. A queen should rule Queenspell.
When Ardere turned three, he burst into flames during a tantrum. Horrified, Metheus and I ran to him. As soon as he saw us, the fire died down. We realized that he could control fire and heat, much more than I could at his age.
The rest of our lives were filled with contentment and love. Ardere was a beautiful child, as kind as Metheus at his best and as explosive as I was when in anger. Most of the time, there was a balance.
With the palace completely rebuilt, Metheus and his men sometimes went down into the fairy world to fix whatever damage had been done. There was pure bitterness there, he said. The old fairy king had just died, and the new King Dorian was not as easily appeased. Soon, he shut down his kingdom against the people of the Above.
In time, we forgot about him and the rest of the fairy world. Our world had been too consumed by Ardere.
