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“You wife will be provided for. You, not so much.” Done with him, Zale turns to the smaller one of the two remaining men. “You don’t have any lands and titles to strip, so I’ll settle for your fortune. Never darken the borders of my kingdom again, either of you.”
I expected far worse. I would have done far worse. Zale was both just and fair in his edict.
He directs his gaze toward my stepfather and waves his hand.
The duke exhales in relief as his limbs return to their original shade, rather than the wan, snow-white hue.
“Will you attempt to undermine me now, regent?”
Salvar Rhodes gulps. “I’m good, my king.”
I bet he is.
I open the door and sigh in relief. My mother’s shivering, teeth chattering, but she’s in one piece.
“Come outside, into the sunshine. Is there a coat nearby?”
I rush her to safety as the king frees the duke, who comes to care for his wife.
Only then do I turn to Zale. “How am I okay?”
I felt the lethal cold, it touched me like everyone else in this room. It just didn’t harm me. That doesn’t make a lick of sense.
Zale makes a face, half wince, half jocularity. “About that…”
EPILOGUE
She stays angry at me for seven days and as many nights, though my queen does let me apologize on my knees, with my tongue, my fingers, and my cock.
It’s not my fault, really. The opportunity was too good to pass up. Under any other circumstances, I would have had to earn the right to call her mine, but she asked to be safe and protected. I gave her exactly that.
So long as you’re true to your word, I, Zale Devar, king of Ravelyn, will protect you, Helyn Stovrj-Rhodes, against harm. Your enemies will face my wrath. By my troth, I swear it.
By all the laws of our kind, I gave her my hand and she accepted it. She’ll live as long as I, undying, untouched by age, because from the moment I said those words, she became mine.
My wife’s coronation is occurring on the night of my twenty-fifth birthday. She wears a pearl dress for me, though this one is black and green over a golden shift.
Reiks’s fiancée claps the loudest, fond of Hel as she is.
The most precious gift comes from the new king of Flaur, who offers Helyn a crown of everlasting flowers. The Wicked girl at his side gets to her tiptoes and whispers to the new queen, “Any time, any day. Just give me the name, and they’ll be dead by dawn.”
That’s as close to a present as a Dorathian assassin ever gets.
Helyn reaches her friend from the undercity and hugs her tight. I got to know Alva while we worked on the structural reform proposals we’re about to present, and though she’s still not fond of me, I like her well enough.
Finally, the queen of Ravelyn reaches her king. She glares at me from the other side of the dais as she did so many weeks ago, before taking my hand, just as I took hers.
She leads us to our twin thrones, each uncomfortable as the other, hers white marble, while mine is black as night.
A new era is about to start, one where I’m challenged by a woman much better than I, for the good of the realm and with the blessing of my ancestors.
“Hail to the queen!” the court shouts, as I bring her fingers to my mouth.
