Chapter 51
Three days was nothing in comparison to a lifetime, but in three days, a lot had changed. Almost more than Ro could believe.
Word had come that Anyka had passed. Ro had no love for the woman, but she also hadn’t wished death on her.
In light of Anyka’s death and Beatryce’s incarceration, Ishmyel had taken the throne. His first official act, much to Ro’s happiness, had been to reach out to her and, after explaining the situation, he’d responded to the letter she’d sent to Anyka.
He was interested in peace.
Now, on the morning of the fourth day, Ro stood before the tall mirror in her dressing room, letting the weight of that word settle over her like the gown Luena had just finished helping her into.
Peace.
What a beautiful, fragile word. The thing she’d been working for since she’d arrived.
It had taken three days of frantic missives, late-night strategy sessions with Gabriel, Uldamar, and a council of professors.
She’d included JT in all of those things. It was important. This kingdom would be his to rule one day and he needed to understand just what getting to this point had required.
He’d offered to ride with her today. She’d gently declined. Despite everything Ishmyel had promised and all the precautions she was taking, there was always a risk. It would be better for him to stay here.
“What do you think, your highness?” Luena asked, giving the final straightening to the deep blue silk brocade gown and matching coat. The fabric whispered against Ro’s skin, cool and heavy, with intricate gold embroidered dragonflies and tiny jeweled beetles.
“It’s spectacular.” And it was. She felt regal in a way that defied description. She barely felt the additional weight of the bodice, which had been reinforced to hide a thin layer of fine chainmail beneath. That was done at Gabriel’s insistence, not hers.
She understood. A queen who had survived assassination attempts didn’t go to peace talks without a little insurance.
Ro smoothed her hands down the front, feeling the familiar tightness in her shoulders from yesterday’s sword practice.
Next came the jewels. She was wearing an elaborate tiara. It bore a large trillianite in the center with small trillianites and diamonds that flashed with every bit of light. There was no ignoring such a piece. She had earrings and a bracelet to match.
Benny hopped onto the vanity, purring as he rubbed against her elbow.
“You behave while I’m gone,” Ro murmured, scratching Benny under the chin. “No shredding the tapestries or leaving any dead mice around. Aunt Vi will be checking.”
Gabriel called out, “Your highness? I’m here.”
“You can come in,” she called back.
Gabriel stepped into the sitting room, resplendent in his formal teal-and-silver uniform, the dragonfly insignia of the royal guard gleaming on his chest. His gaze swept over her—protective, appreciative, and full of affection that made her entire being warm.
Luena and Helana discreetly disappeared.
“You look every inch the queen who united two kingdoms,” he said quietly, hands clasped before him. “And still, somehow, the woman who stole my breath the first time I saw her.”
Ro laughed, the sound a little shaky. “If you’re trying to distract me from being nervous, it’s working.”
He came closer, reaching up to adjust the tiara on her brow. His fingers lingered at her temple, brushing a stray hair back with a tenderness that grounded her.
“You have earned this moment, Ro,” he said, voice low. “And you’re to be celebrated for it. But if anything feels off on that bridge, or at any moment—”
“I know. You’ll be right there.” She squeezed his hand. “As will Uldamar, Ecclesia, and all the others. I’m not walking into this alone.”
“No, you’re not. Are you ready?”
She took a breath and nodded.
He walked her down to the entrance hall where the rest of her court waited.
Uldamar was in silvery-gray robes. Ecclesia looked impatient in deep crimson. Cloudtree and a handful of other professors were in their best. JT, Violet, Dove, and Star were there, too, to see her off.
They bowed as she entered, but the formality quickly melted into the easy camaraderie she preferred.
“Ready to make history, your highness?” Ecclesia asked, one eyebrow arched.
Ro smiled despite the nerves. “More than you know.”
She kissed JT and Violet, then hugged Dove and Star. Being on the verge of peace with Malveaux made her realize that she needed to work on peace at home, too. Star might not be the mother Ro had hoped for, but if Ishmyel could move forward, couldn’t she?
They rode out under a morning sky streaked with gold and rose, wyverns wheeling overhead like living warnings.
The journey to the Brightwater Bridge felt both endless and too short. Ro’s mind kept drifting to the future and what this treaty would mean.
The bridge rose before them, the length of ancient carved stone spanning the Whistling Sea in a single, defiant arch.
It was a beautiful thing. Hard to imagine that deadly creatures like the glassmaw eels occupied that water.
Perhaps they were a beautiful and deadly reminder of what lay between these two kingdoms.
Ro dismounted and her court and royal guards formed up behind her. Gabriel stayed at her right shoulder. She stood tall, proud of what had been accomplished and those who stood with her. The sword that had started it all, Merediem, was at her hip.
The wind was strong but barely moved the heavy silk of her gown. Luena had chosen wisely.
On the far side, the Grym contingent waited. Ro gave the signal and they all started walking.
As they crested the top of the bridge, Ishmyel Blackbryar came into view. He walked with Anyka’s right-hand man, Wyett. Both men looked broken.
Anyka’s uncle, the man who had witnessed his brother’s death and now his niece’s, along with his great-niece’s incarceration, appeared ten years older. His shoulders slumped under a fine marula wool cloak, the silver embroidery of Malveaux’s crest the only relief on the black fabric.
Grief etched deep lines around his eyes and mouth. The only sign of his new status was a thick band of polished platinum across his brow. His hands gripped a long, cloth-wrapped bundle.
As the rest of Ro’s party slowed, she kept moving forward. Gabriel moved with her, a half-pace behind, the rest of her court following at a respectful distance.
The wind whistled between the bridge’s arches, carrying the tang of the sea and the faint perfume of hope.
Ishmyel met her at the center point. He stopped a few feet away. For a long moment, neither spoke. The wyverns circled lower, their wings casting sharp shadows across the stone.
Ro recognized grief and humiliation when she saw it. “I am truly sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you, your highness,” Ishmyel said at last. His voice was rough, stripped of the courtly polish she remembered from Willow Hall. “And thank you for coming, Queen Sparrow.”
Ro inclined her head. “King Ishmyel.” The title still felt new on her tongue, but she imagined she’d get used to it. “The bridge has waited a long time to be opened again.”
He gave a weary laugh that cracked in the middle. “Yes, it has.”
He swallowed hard, gaze dropping to the bundle in his hands. “Anyka believed the crown of Malveaux was meant to eclipse yours. She was wrong. I see that now, just as I see that she and Beatryce were ruled by a darkness that has no place in our realm. Or any realm.”
Ro nodded but said nothing, letting him have his moment.
“And now she’s gone, and my grandniece sits in chains because of choices none of us can undo.” His eyes, red-rimmed, lifted to hers. Genuine pain shone there and nothing else. No calculation, no scheming.
Just a man who had watched his family be destroyed and chosen, at last, to do things differently. “I am tired, your highness. Tired of deceit and secrets and so much conflict. My first act as king was to answer your letter. My second…” He unwrapped the bundle with deliberate care.
The sword gleamed in the fading light: Mourning Hawke, the ancestral blade of Malveaux. Anyka had carried it as both weapon and symbol. Now Ishmyel held it out, flat across both palms.
“I offer you Mourning Hawke,” he said, voice steady despite the tremor in his hands.
“Not in surrender, but in trust. Take it as proof of my intentions. My kingdom seeks peace. True peace. We want to open the bridge. Begin trade again. Let our children grow up knowing each other’s faces instead of fearing them. ”
Ro had not expected the sword. If anyone had any doubts about Ishmyel’s intentions, this should bring them to an end.
A hush fell over both sides of the bridge. Ro felt the weight of every gaze, her guards, her professors, the Grym soldiers watching their new king bare his kingdom’s heart.
She stepped closer. The wind was stronger here, pressing her gown, but she stood firm, comforted by the lack of heat in her Silversmith dagger. “I accept it,” she said softly, taking the sword with both hands.
It was heavier than she expected, the magic within it as old as what was in Merediem. She handed it off to Gabriel as she met Ishmyel’s eyes. She gestured to the bridge. “Together, we will build something new.”
Someone made a soft sound of approval behind her.
Ishmyel’s shoulders sagged further, but this time in relief.
Tears tracked down his weathered cheeks, unashamed.
“Then let it be so. By my blood and the blood of Malveaux, I declare peace between our kingdoms. The Brightwater Bridge will remain open on the Malveaux side. And may our people stand together.”
Ro lifted her voice so it carried to both ends of the bridge and the wyverns above. “And by the light of Summerton and the honor of the Radiant fae, I declare the same. Peace. Fellowship between our kingdoms. Today is a new day.”
Cheers rose, first from her side, then, hesitantly, from the Grym. The wyverns roared in approval, painting the sky with bursts of celebratory flame. Gabriel stepped forward then, offering Ishmyel his hand. The Grym king took it without hesitation.
Later, there would be feasts and treaties and the slow work of healing. Later, Ro would feel the full weight of what they had done.
But in this moment, on the bridge that had divided these kingdoms for centuries, with the man she loved beside her, Sparrow felt something she hadn’t in a long time.
Whole.
There was so much yet to come. So much more to do. But now it could be accomplished without the fear of war.
She was proud of what she’d achieved. Proud that her family and her citizens could live in peace, and that Grym and Radiant would be reunited once again.
Gabriel leaned in. “You did it.”
“We did it,” she answered him.
He smiled.
She smiled back and a new truth filled her. More than anything, she was proud to call this place home.