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“I wish I knew what to do, my love. I want nothing more than to wake you, but I know you’d hate me for dwelling at your side when there’s so much to do.”
I cursed Bereille for being cryptic. Would he let Autumn die without telling me exactly what I needed to do to break the curse? But I understood that he couldn’t say the words, that despite his curse breaking, it was also tied to Autumn’s curse.
A new fear enveloped me. Bereille had said that his curse broke because of the sacrifice of a broken heart. If Autumn woke, would I lose Bereille again?
My heart ached with the pain. I knew which I’d choose, which hurt my heart even more. I’d just found Autumn, just found love, and I’d just gotten Bereille back.
It was all too much.
Tears pooled, and one slithered down my cheek to land on her lips. I swiped it away with my thumb, and my fingers lingered there. Her lips felt warm, like the fire within her burned to the surface. I found a tiny smile edging my lips. Even in a near-death curse, she was fierce, beautiful, and incredible. She was everything this world needed. Tomes would be written and ballads sung of her heroic sacrifice.
My Autumn. My love.
So, I laid a gentle kiss on her warm lips—our last to be shared.
I ran a thumb across her perfect cheek and kissed her again.
“Until we meet again, my love, I am yours. I’ll right my wrongs and help rebuild. I’ll even stick with your bluejay because better or worse; I need him just as much as you did.”
A heart-wrenching sob pulled from my gut, up my throat, and out of my mouth. Tears fell. My heart wrenched with this final goodbye—until we meet again.
With disturbing clarity, I understood why Cabro Lightfoot needed to reunite with his wife in the Beyond.
Finally, I peeled my body from the coffin and replaced the glass roof. A horrible sigh pulled up through me, and I tried to regain composure.
I took four steps before I heard something.Tap. Tap. Tap.What in the Underworld?
With a glance in all directions, my heart thudded painfully as I looked back at the coffin.
It couldn’t be. Was the sound coming from the glass? I didn’t see a bird pecking at it. Had I left a bird inside?
With my steps still heavy with disheartened pain, I stepped back to the coffin and glanced inside. My heart leaped to my throat, and my scream pierced the air.
In haste, I removed the glass lid of the coffin, and inside was a bewildered but awake Autumn.
I screamed again and again in pure joy.
Epilogue
Stars streaked across the night in a myriad of bursts. I had never seen such brightness stealing across the sky. It was the perfect night, and I was so grateful to be alive. To behere.
It had been almost two months since I killed Queen Amira and was thrust into a lifeless, sleep-inducing curse. Nearly two months since my true love’s kiss woke me.
It all felt surreal.
Almost two months.
Sometimes it felt like no time had passed; other times, it seemed like years.
It would take time for Catalan to heal, but as I glanced back at the ballroom where a high-pitched squeal caused bouts of laughter, hope blossomed. We were still unsure about the curse Amira placed on Dorrian and whether it broke when she died. A painful tightening in my chest told me we wouldn’t see the last of the damage Amira had caused. Curses had a way of coming back; the magic demanded to be paid, one way or another.
Duchess Margarite and Duke Drekor spun their son around on the dance floor together. Hope shined in everyone's hearts at that dark-haired little boy.Despite the possibility of his curse,Dorrian was the future of Catalan. He, Margarite, and Bereille were the only survivors of the ancient bloodline.
My heart flopped. Bereille. My bluejay. To think that the mighty Knight, Sahlyn’s beloved mentor, had been my Iro was inconceivable, but it also felt soright.I had known deep in my soul who he was, had gathered it when we had left Mondu. But, it changed nothing about how I felt for him.
Bereille was next in line for the throne but had quickly declined it with a request; the return of the Knights. Which Margarite, as Queen regent, was all too pleased to reenlist. Margarite’s father would have been proud. Nero, the Duke of Feist, lost his life when he’d proudly led his men into battle just before the dwarves arrived with their support. The Duke had been one of the first to fall at the front lines, but he had died with honor. He would go down in history as a courageous leader who had put his people, kingdom, country, and family first. Before his life, before himself. He had gone into battle, well passed his prime for war, to fight amongst his men. Feist would never be the same with his loss, but Margarite and baby Dorrian would be the face of hope and resolution.
My eyes grazed on Ativan and Bereille through the open balcony door. Bereille had asked Ativan to come for a few weeks to help train recruits, and Ativan was in his glory. He loved training others, which I knew firsthand. Bereille had begged him to become a Knight, but Ativan was happy being the commander of the Geva guard, and I think part of it was my father. They’d been friends for so long I don’t know if Ativan could ever leave him permanently. Plus, he and Leisa had made a home in Geva together now. Ativan deserved a quiet life in our small village with his new love. Bereille respected it but begged with a handsome sum of kingdom coin to help train the new Knights, and Ativan had accepted. Leisa was enjoying the time with Margarite and Dorrian, and I knew Margarite was grateful to have the healer’s knowledge and support with the babe.
