70. Epilogue
Epilogue
Kat
I wake surrounded by warmth. I stretch my limbs, only to find them very firmly trapped. I open my eyes.
Rahk sleeps soundly beside me, his arms banded around me, his hair tickling my nose. I smile and nuzzle closer to him. His hand skates up my back, a sleepy grunt escaping his throat. Sunshine pours through the window, but neither of us make a move to get up. Rahk’s hand moves a little more intentionally, making me realize he has awakened.
“Morning,” I murmur.
He grunts in reply and then, eyes still closed, kisses my face in search of my lips.
A knock sounds at the door. It is Mary. “Kat? My lord? I am so sorry—but I think the queen’s carriage just parked in front of Vandermore Manor?”
I sit bolt upright. Rahk pulls me back down and calls in his sleep-deepened voice: “Tell her to come back tomorrow.”
“Rahk!” I chastise.
He grins.
I grab a robe as I get up. “Do you know what she might want?”
“She did not bring an army, so I don’t think she intends to arrest or kill Lord Rahk.”
Rahk leans back, his hands tucked behind his head as he says, “A fruitless endeavor.”
I shake my head at him, and he just flashes that Nothril smirk back. “Well, she cannot do anything to hurt Rahk. Harbright would riot. Can you get her settled in the parlor with tea and Charity’s finest culinary temptations while we get ready?”
“I will do my best,” Mary replies.
“Wait, Mary—wasn’t Lord Oliver coming this morning too?”
“If he isn’t late ,” Mary grumbles in a grumble I know far too well. It’s the grumble when she is trying to be angry but cannot.
I smile to myself. “We will be there soon!”
“Wrong,” murmurs Rahk from behind me as he wraps me up in an embrace and kisses my shoulder. “You said yourself the queen cannot hurt me. We might as well let her enjoy the parlor in solitude.”
“We need her to like us,” I reply, trying to be stern, but it melts into giggles as he keeps kissing me. “Stop it! You are impossible!”
Somehow, we manage to keep the queen waiting only twenty minutes. I offer my brightest smile, and Rahk mostly keeps a straight face. Mostly . The very corner of his lip tilts just slightly up.
“What an honor, Your Majesty,” I say, curtsying deeply.
Queen Vivienne wears a smart red dress, elegant but fit for more practical wear. She still carries her chin with that haughty tilt. She has not touched the tea, but two of Charity’s biscuits are suspiciously absent from the plate.
“I have come at the very particular request of my son,” Queen Vivienne says abruptly. “He requires Lord Rahk’s tutelage in the matters of fencing. He says he will take lessons from no other, despite my best coaxing.”
I blink. Is that her way of saying we are back in her good graces? Does she trust us now?
“You will be supervised at all times, of course,” the queen says, not waiting for Rahk’s answer. “Also, a diplomat from Aursailles has come with concerns of their receding border. I have promised to send you, Lord Rahk, to aid my father in these matters. I anticipate other kingdoms will have similar requests, so I expect you will stay as busy as you like in the coming years.”
Rahk’s miniscule smirk widens slightly. He bows. “As you wish, my liege.”
“That is all,” Queen Vivienne announces, getting to her feet. “Prince Lionel will have your service begin tomorrow. My steward will send the details.”
With that, she sweeps out of the room. Rahk leans back against the doorway, listening until Edvear sees the queen out and the front door shuts behind her. He arches an eyebrow at me. “That could have been a letter.”
I grin up at him. “You, my husband, are officially back in Harbright society.”
“I missed it dearly.”
I shake my head, trying not to give him the satisfaction of a smile. The rattle of approaching carriage wheels draws my attention to the window. I peer out as Lord Oliver’s carriage arrives, driving past the trimmed hedge that once displayed a rearing stallion, but now is in the shape of a humble man with a needle and thread.
Mary is already out the door, and I can almost hear her telling him he is late again as he hops down from the box. He flashes a charming grin at her, replying something as he stops just a smidge too close. His gaze is wholly fixed on her as she gestures with her hands and tells him something. His cheeks turn pinker by the second. Then, abruptly, he darts forward and kisses her on the lips.
I gasp, then cover my mouth. I’m about to look away, to give them privacy, when she smacks him away and makes to storm off. He grabs her hand and pulls her back, laughing, and for all her protests, she leans into him just slightly. I smirk. Oliver says something to her, clear enough that I can read his lips. “Mary, you know I’m going to marry you, right?”
I step away from the window to avoid nosing any further into their privacy, lifting my eyebrows at Rahk. “I think Lord Oliver might be in love.”
“You are just now realizing this?”
Mary marches inside the house then and comes straight to the parlor. Her face is as red as a beet. “Well! I had better clear these dishes now that the queen is gone!”
Rahk and I share a smile and step out of the parlor. Edvear meets us with a bright smile and erect ears. “Lady Katherine! News from your cousin has come. All the land at the edge of the Long Lost Wood has been restored to their rightful owners, yourself included. Though he expressed some concern over the speed with which the liquid part of your fortune was being spent.”
“Ah yes, that. Tell him not to worry about it.”
“That’s it? He just should not worry about it?”
“Not at all. It is all going to a good cause.”
The cause, of course, being helping to get all the freed Nothril slaves on their feet. Five hundred and thirty-seven people found freedom unexpectedly that day, and as it turns out, ensuring they all have a roof over their heads, food in their belly, clothes on their back, and enough to go where they want in the world, can make a rather significant dent even in a fortune as vast as mine.
“You seem particularly chipper this morning,” Rahk observes of our steward.
Edvear’s smile broadens. He ducks his head, clasping and unclasping his hands in front of him. “Well, I have received good news.”
“Oh?” I ask.
“Well . . . Mrs. Finch has given me an answer. To a question I asked her.”
Rahk’s eyebrows shoot up. “Truly?”
“What question?” I demand, looking between the two of them.
“She agreed to marry me!” Edvear bursts, color blooming across his happy face.
Just then, the door at the end of the hallway bursts open and Becky runs out. “I’m going to have a papa again!” she cries, barreling into Edvear’s arms and hugging him tight.
“A very good papa,” Charity says, appearing in the doorway, a kitchen towel tossed over her shoulder.
“That is wonderful news!” I rush to embrace her as Rahk claps Edvear on the back.
“I knew you had ulterior motive for always asking when we were leaving the human lands,” Rahk says.
Edvear’s ears twitch. “It was stressful not knowing if I would all of a sudden never see them again, and never know if they were taken care of!” He glances at Charity, then down at Becky, who clings to his waist. “I am glad we are never leaving now.”
Rahk and I leave them to have their moment, stepping outside into the warm sunshine. Bartholomew nickers happily in her stall. I greet her with kisses and she tries to chomp my hair.
“What do you say?” Rahk says from behind me. I turn to find his wings fully extended as he holds Bartholomew’s saddle. “I think it is time for a belated birthday celebration.”
“Wait one minute!” I cry, racing back into the house. When I return, Rahk has Bartholomew saddled and ready to go. I cannot help but admire his beautiful wings in the sunshine. He turns when he hears my steps. The look he gives me is so warm and full of love.
I hold up my wildly expensive—and heavy—birthday present. “We cannot forget Fool’s Circle.”
He leans down to kiss me. “No, we cannot.”
Then we are flying through the fields at breakneck speed, me on horseback and Rahk low in the air. The wind rushes past us and we share a grin as the thrill fills our blood.