Epilogue
O n a rocky shore, black smoke materialized from thin air. The wisps of darkness snuffed out every ray of light they came near before fading into nothing, the day once again bright. In its place stood a fae queen and a traitorous demon, both sets of lips upturned in delight.
They were beautiful smiles. Terrifying smiles.
The queen, made of harsh lines and porcelain skin, flicked back her amber hair. She narrowed her eyes—so blue they mirrored ice—distaste palpable on her tongue.
“I never thought I would see these shores again,” the demon mused. His own eyes of pure black sparkled with excitement at the thought. His mahogany locks blew in the breeze of his homeland. The land he betrayed.
“No time to reminisce, Malcolm,” the queen snapped, bored of his company already. The beach remained quiet, serene despite the evil that now lurked on its shore.
Though, a certain princess might argue that evil resides in all. Perhaps the beach knew that too, felt safe in the comfort of a familiar wickedness.
The demon turned towards the queen he had chosen over his realm. His family. His crown.
There was love in his eyes. One that was crafted from ambition, lust, and a darkness even the magic under his skin recoiled from. The kind of love that could convince a brother to slit the throat of a sister. The kind of love that began and ended in death.
The queen felt no such emotion. Not for the demon, nor her husband, whose dimples and dark hair had left many swooning before her. Not even for the child that was taken from her. The one she looked in the eyes mere months ago, his irises a mirror of her own.
No. She loved nothing but her throne, as she was raised to. Sooner would she perish than see the day her rule ceased.
For this reason, the queen walked from the rocks onto the soft sand, determination turning the grains into stone beneath her slippers.
“Ah yes, we must make haste lest someone else take over the world,” the demon said as he trailed behind her. A joke that straddled the line between humorous and insolence.
No matter, the wicked queen had little desire to argue. Her interests lay ahead, where a black castle loomed in the distance. With a wide smile that bared perfectly white teeth between pink lips, the queen responded.
“Precisely. Not to mention it seems my son has stolen something of mine, and I plan to take her back.”