Epilogue
Azulin
“Careful not to crush the beets,” Calypso cautioned as she hopped over the neat rows of leafy plants. “I’m surprised they haven’t been harvested yet.” She paused at the edge of the field and frowned at the long rows of green in the fading light. A slight breeze fluttered the curls her maid had artfully arranged to cascade from her intricately coiled hair. “No one refilled the irrigation troughs either.”
Calypso turned her face toward the village in the distance, the sunset painting her features a golden wash as her hair danced around her face. “Soren did say the village was thriving, right?”
I strode across the rows separating us and stopped behind her. “He did.”
“And Soren is rarely wrong.”
“True.” My secretary and my wife had formed an uneasy truce. Especially once she convinced him she supported me being productive and had the kingdom’s best interests at heart. I caught my wife’s hand and gently squeezed her slender fingers. “This is why you wanted to check in person.”
“Thank you for coming with me.” She stepped closer and leaned against my arm.
“Always.” I tucked a curl behind her ear. “Soren informed me that the elves said your sister and her husband are expecting us.”
Calypso nodded, her expressive mouth betraying far more than she probably realized of the mixed emotions this visit was stirring up.
“We can go home if you wish.”
She shook her head. “No. I need to face them.”
In the year since she had last stood on this land, both of our lives had changed for the better. I suspected the same could not be said of her sister’s family. Even one inexperienced as I was in human agriculture could see the difference between the fields we trekked over and the others surrounding the village. The signs of neglect were clear—especially to Calypso.
Reaching the main road—a wide dirt path that wound, without clear purpose or direction through the fields—we began encountering humans.
Groups of men walking home after a long day’s work regarded us solemnly from beneath wide-brimmed hats. They slowed as we passed. Whether it was to stop and stare or to give us a wary berth, I didn’t care.
Women and children also trod the dusty path. We came upon clusters of two or three, and each group gasped at the sight of us and drew closer to each other so they could bend their heads and whisper. I doubted Calypso heard their words, but I did and glared at them.
“We should’ve let Ghost come. He would’ve silenced the lot without a word,” I grumbled.
“More likely he would’ve murdered someone.” Calypso nudged my side.
“Calypso!” A group of children crowded onto the path. She ran to greet them, and they surrounded her.
My hand went instinctively to Vorpalus on my hip when I heard the use of her name. A passing group of women gasped in shock. I rolled my eyes and dropped my hand to hang by my side instead.
I closed my eyes for the briefest of moments, andI reminded myself, for the umpteenth time, that it was safe for her to be called Calypso. She wanted to be called that. After all, we had gone through a whole naming ceremony so I could give her a new name and allow myself and others to call her Calypso openly. I smiled to myself. I alone knew her true name now.
“Azulin.” My wife approached where I had stopped in the path. “May I introduce my nieces and nephew to you?”
I nodded.
“This is Piera, Melly, and Dion.”
The pre-adolescent girls regarded me with varying degrees of wariness. However, Dion—a filthy lad of perhaps four perched on my wife’s hip—regarded me boldly while tugging on his ear.
“Azulin is a strange name,” Piera commented.
“He is fae,” Melly replied.
“Girls, don’t be rude,” Calypso chided.
Piera rolled her eyes and crossed her scrawny arms over her narrow torso. “Mother said we didn’t have to be polite.” For all of her brashness, a wary light lingered in her eyes.
“Sounds like foolish advice,” I responded.
“Oh?” Melly’s eyes widened.
“After all, I am a king and fae.” I snapped my fingers and sparks crackled harmlessly in the air between us.
A twinge of fear crossed the girls’ faces and their eyes rounded even more.
“He has a point,” Calypso commented. The note of laughter in her tone brought my gaze to her face. The warmth and amusement in her expression melted my mild annoyance at her sister. I could tolerate most anything if it made my wife happy.
Refocusing on the children, Calypso began smoothing Dion’s hair back from his forehead. “Where is your father?”
“At home.” Piera’s demeanor shifted to overt annoyance. “He sent us to help harvest the Surrels’ fields because Mother insisted Father needed to stay home today.” She rolled her eyes again. “We all know it’s just because she doesn’t want to clean the house. You have to come home, Calypso. Mother is unhinged when you’re gone. Demanding things, throwing fits, and—” The girl’s eyes filled with tears. “She is selling me to Mistress Foster.”
“Apprentice. Mama said apprentice, not sell.” Melly glared at Piera. “You were just complaining that Calypso used to be so bossy all the time. If she came back, she would tell you what to do.”
“I’m not coming back, girls.” Calypso cut off the argument. “I am married now, and I have my own household.”
Three sets of assessing eyes settled on me. “Him?”
“Yes,” she answered.
Suppressed laughter bubbled under my breastbone, but I didn’t let it out. Calypso met my gaze. Her silvery eyes brightened with amusement and her delightful mouth quirked, distracting me.
“How is the baby?” Calypso asked. “Was it a girl or a boy?”
“Another boy.” Piera crossed to Calypso and claimed the silent Dion from her arms. “At least this one tries to talk.”
Calypso immediately frowned. “Dion can’t help it.”
Piera snorted. “He should’ve listened when Mother told him to be quiet.” Then she started off down the road toward the village with Dion twisting to watch me over her shoulder. “Come, Melly,” Piera called without a backward glance in her sister’s direction. “Mother wants us to be home before dark.”
“He was barely a one-year-old,” Calypso protested beneath her breath.
I could easily connect the dots. The child hadn’t quieted, and the mother had done something to him that stole his speech. Icy anger tightened my gut. Who would do such a thing to her own child? But then I recalled my mother. Forcing my attention back to the present, I gazed down at the girl child before me.
I expected the smaller girl to follow her sister, but she didn’t. She stood in the road, assessing me with a sober expression. “You like him, Callie?” she asked abruptly.
“I do, very much. I love him.” My wife’s soft answer made my mating mark warm and ripple in pleasure.
The serious child before me tilted her head to the side. Long dirty hair fell over her shoulder with the movement. “Is he dangerous?”
“Very.” Calypso’s voice wobbled with an emotion I couldn’t name. I dared to glance her way, but she had composed her features.
Then I was startled when Melly moved to my side and tugged on my sleeve. “Hold my hand, please?”
What was I to do but comply?
Apparently pleased with the situation, Melly led me toward the village. Calypso fell into step on my other side.
“She likes you,” my wife whispered softly enough that no one but I could hear.
“I guessed that.”
She laughed. “I’m taking this as a good sign.”
“Sign of what?” I demanded just loud enough that Melly and a bypassing villager glanced at me.
“Our children, when we have them, won’t be constantly terrified of you.”
“Children love me,” I protested.
Calypso lifted one of her delightfully arched eyebrows at me and laughed. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you so offended.”
“Our children will love me.”
“Of course they will.” She jostled my side as we approached a low-roofed hovel. “They will be my children too, and I adore you.” Then with a fleeting kiss to my cheek, Calypso spun around to Melly’s other side and took the child’s free hand. “Show me where you sleep these days, Melly. I want to see all your new pet rocks.”
The grubby child immediately grinned. “Oh, yes, but—” She paused and turned to me. “Do you want to see my rocks too?”
Warmed by my wife’s happiness, I smiled down at Melly and assured her I would. If my wife was going to delight in rock pets—whatever those were—I would do my best to enjoy them with her. And for Calypso’s sake I would see these children’s lives improved. A healer could help with the lad’s muteness.
I considered the top of my tiny companion’s head. Surely her mother—eager for fewer children underfoot—would be willing to allow visits to our castle.
Anything to bring a smile to my wife’s face.
The fae return in
The Unseelie Heir’s Claim
Courts in Conflict - Book Three
Rhys has spent his life as an outcast. He never knew his father, and from a young age, he supported himself and his exiled mother. So, when a strange fae appears one day and declares Rhys the heir of the Unseelie throne, he has only one stipulation. His best friend must come with him.
Ardwyn is a foundling. She knows she is of mixed blood, but she knows nothing more. Outcast among the outcasts in their tiny, impoverished community, she depends on Rhys’ friendship to keep her from starvation. But now that he is leaving for a palace and a crown, where will she fit into his new life?