Epilogue
Crown of Peace
Niko
The baby’s cry is soft, but it echoes like music through the Great Hall.
I stand beside Cassandra, one hand resting on her shoulder, the other bracing the curve of her back as she cradles our daughter against her chest. Our daughter. Her skin was warm, her hair dark, and when she opened her eyes for the first time, I swore they glowed faintly gold.
“She’s perfect,” Cassandra whispers, tears slipping down her cheeks.
She is. Fiercely, utterly perfect.
The doors open gently. Amara enters first, followed by Merrick.
My father moves slower now, the lines on his face deeper, and his once-mighty shoulders stooped slightly.
His dissolution is drawing closer by the day and soon he will be gone.
But when he sees Cassandra standing strong, our daughter in her arms, something like youth returns to his expression.
He crosses the room in silence and looks down at the tiny bundle. “A girl,” he says quietly.
“A queen,” Amara corrects with a smile, brushing a hand across the infant’s brow.
Merrick lets out a slow breath. “She’s beautiful.”
Cassandra looks up at him. “Would you like to hold her?”
His eyes widen, then soften. “May I?”
She places our daughter in his arms, and I watch as the last High Ruler of Runic cradles his first grandchild with trembling hands. Merrick looks into her face, then up at me.
“She has your fire. And Cassandra’s eyes.”
“And she’ll have your legacy,” I say.
He nods, then presses a kiss to the baby’s forehead. “Then I can rest.”
He hands her back with reverence, steps toward me, and places a hand on my shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Niko. Not for what you’ve fought, but for what you’ve built.” And then he turns to Cassandra. “And you ... you’ve given us all more than peace. You’ve given us a future.”
He leaves us with those words and later that night, he passes quietly in his sleep.
****
One week later, my coronation takes place beneath a sky free of blood, war, or shadow.
The three realms are represented. Runic, Alluvium, and even a peaceful envoy from what remains of Quietus. The Garden of Ancients blooms brighter than ever, and as I step forward to take my vow and my place on the throne, I feel the magik move through me and weave into my soul.
A new era has begun. Not through conquest but through choice.
Cassandra and I will rule as partners, as parents, and as peacekeepers. And in the years to come, when our daughter or her future siblings ask how the world changed, we will tell them.
Not with swords but with love.
The End