88. Farron
88
Farron
T he courtyard of Keep Oakheart is done up in gold banners, the trees waving with ribbons. A haunting voice sings a hymn as the last pieces of wood are placed upon my mother’s pyre.
I’ve always heard the peaceful dead look like they’re asleep, but not my mother. She lies on her final throne, a sense of purpose on her face even in death. Her eyes are closed, hands positioned over her body. Soon, she will embark on her ultimate voyage, and we will send her to the beyond with our well wishes and thanks.
As is customary at a funeral in the Autumn Realm, everyone is dressed in gold. The late afternoon sun shines into the courtyard, bathing my mother in light.
With the pyre set, small groups approach. Our people tie golden strings onto my mother’s wrists, fingers, and ankles, or weave them through her hair. And with that binding, they offer her a final word to transition into the unknown realm.
Rosalina squeezes my hand as we watch. Silent tears streak down my face, but I keep my breathing steady, my body still. When it’s Dayton’s turn, he takes his time braiding the golden string through my mother’s hair. He whispers words of thanks. His eyes flick to me as he does so.
My twin brothers approach with our sister, Eleanor, who has returned from her wardship in the Summer Realm for the funeral. Her usually grim face is streaked with silent tears. My brothers take turns laying their heads upon Mother’s chest, offering final farewells.
I force myself to watch as my father wraps her wrists in string. His huge body shakes, and though his eyes shine with grief, he manages his words.
There’s no one else. Autumn’s dignitaries have gone, the nobles from visiting realms, each of the High Princes, and all of her family.
It’s time for me to say goodbye.
My mate and I walk hand in hand to the pyre. Rosalina sinks to her knees beside my mother and gently wraps the string around her wrist. “Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you for raising the kindest man I’ve ever known. Thank you for teaching him how to love with a strong heart and how love can be his strength. You are eternal within him.”
My fingers shake as I try to weave my string through her braid. Rosalina places a hand over mine and helps steady me. I lean down, my forehead touching my mother’s.
“Thank you, Mother. I promise I’ll do right by you. I’ll watch out for Father, Dom, Billy, and Nori. The realm will always remember what you’ve done. What you’ve given.” My voice tremors, but I feel her strength within me. “Your spirit lives on in the changing leaves, the breeze that rustles through the trees. And though I will never be able to hold you again in this world, I know that we shall be reunited someday in a place beyond time and space, where all is as it should be.”
I stand, taking Rosalina’s hand once more. “Farewell, former High Princess Niamh, Mother of Autumn. Until my road meets yours, farewell.”
Rosalina and I place our hands on the wood. I nod, and flames spark from my hands and hers: orange and white, mingling together, accompanying my mother’s spirit beyond this realm.
We retire to the great hall for the lifethread feast, a joyful celebration. I sit at the head of the table, Rosalina, George, my father, and my siblings beside me. My father will take over my mother’s role as steward as I continue my quest to free Castletree of Caspian’s magic-leaching briars. I flex my fingers. So much power returned to me by breaking the curse, but I know it’s not the true depths of my magic. I have to help the other princes break their curses so we can destroy the Prince of Thorns for good.
Though I won’t abandon Autumn the way I have before. I promised my mother I’d take care of our people. It’s a vow I’ll never break.
Dayton and his sister sit farther down the table. Delphia, the steward of the Summer Realm, is giving her older brother a glower for the ages as he cracks a joke. My breath catches slightly. I’m always surprised how young she is, only a child, and yet there’s a sternness on her face that rivals those three times her age.
I look down at the gold and silver thread around my wrist. Another bargain, but one so different from what I’d made with Caspian. Dayton has given me freedom over his magic reserve, and all I had to do was promise to never forget that moment with him. As if I ever could: it will be seared in my memory forever.
Kel and Ez sit together at the end of the table with Eirik Vargsaxa, captain of the Kryodian Riders. With Perth Quellos in jail in the Winter Realm, a new steward is required; Kel will have to appoint one soon. He says he’s not concerned, but I think things are worse in Winter than Kel’s letting on.
The green crystal flashes in my mind. I gathered the shards of it and kept it in a box to take back to Castletree… for research purposes only, of course. Could I have used a similar magic to save my mother from death?
I turn my attention back to the table. Ezryn sits with his usual poise, but I can tell he’s looking around. After the battle, we sent word to all the realms about my mother’s funeral. No reply came from Spring, neither from his father, the current steward, or his younger brother. Though his father’s health has been in decline for decades, it’s unlike him not to respond to a royal summons. The absence of Ezryn’s brother, however, is not unexpected.
I’m sure both Ez and Kel will have to return to their realms soon. A small part of me wonders if Kel might be inspired by what happened here, by seeing the Riders rally with him. Maybe he’ll finally want to break his curse.
Maybe he’ll finally accept Rosalina as his mate.
I shake my head, still unable to comprehend that I share a mate with the High Prince of Winter. And that he won’t accept her.
I turn to look at Rosalina, and a soft smile crosses my face. She’s completely engaged with my little sister, listening with enthusiastic nods as Nori explains the delicate art of taxidermy. I thought she was beautiful the first time I saw her all those months ago in my prison cell. Now, she is radiant. The points of her ears and new glimmer in her brown eyes seem like they’ve always belonged to her.
My mate has been half-fae all along. A part of me itches to run to the library to research such power lying dormant. Could our mate bond have awoken it? A mate bond has been known to increase a fae’s magic, but not create new magic. Yet the fire she’d used to crack the ice seemed so similar to my own. And what of those golden roses…
Mysteries upon mysteries… with one in particular that her father is determined to solve. I smile as I look at George, who’s brought his maps even to the dinner table. Billy and Dom hover on either side of him, arguing over the best route to take.
George has decided not to return to Castletree with us; he’s setting off in search of his wife. The realization that Anya was fae has only fortified his determination to locate her. And Dom and Billy couldn’t pass up the chance of being his guides through the wilds.
I take a deep breath and stare down at the table. So many questions lay before us, and I know there won’t be any rest for the Princes and Lady of Castletree.
But we’ll find the answers together.