Epilogue
Cryssa
O ur coronation is held less than a fortnight later.
In that time, efforts to repair High Keep have begun, though they’re still underway. It seems the human rioters caused more damage than we thought. Vorr’s body was brought down from the wall and tended to by the finest Copper Court healers in preparation for his burial, and all the blood stains have been removed from the stone. Though, I can never truly forget the sight. Every time he passes the entrance to the East Tower, Viridian flinches and turns his face away .
We’ve begun to search for Vorr’s killer, though, there isn’t much to guide our efforts. Whoever murdered the late High King knew how to cover up their tracks. Despite this, I continue to assure Viridian that we will have justice, in due time. Every time I do, he only offers me a small smile with a squeeze of my arm.
Meanwhile, Viridian and I decided to pardon the surviving rioters, though we made it clear that should they act against the crown ever again, we will not be merciful. So far, the kingdom is at peace—though it seems to stand on unstable ground.
Still, we could not wait to act. With the passing of power from Vorr to Viridian and me, while countless humans across all of the five Courts work to rebuild their lives, we knew the crown needed to be present in each of them. After deliberation with the council, Viridian and I decided to send one representative from the council to each of the five Courts’ capitals. And where it was possible, we chose people we trust. Which we found to be few.
Myrdin, to Redbourne. And Lymseia, back home to Illnamoor.
Myrdin accepted his assignment without question.
Lymseia, on the other hand… Well, that took some convincing.
“You can’t just send me away,” she’d protested, crossing her arms. “I’m the Captain of the High King’s Guard.”
“We’ve granted you a higher position, as a diplomat,” Viridian had told her.
“Then who will take my place?” Lymseia had asked, pressing her palm to her brow, clearly distressed. “You can’t pick just anyone.”
“We need someone we can trust. We need you, Lymseia,” Viridian had pleaded. “If you accept this assignment, then you will be solely responsible for choosing your successor. And we will appoint them without question. Deal?”
“Fine,” Lymseia had grumbled. “But I’m not going anywhere until the position is filled.”
“Very well.” Viridian—and I—had sighed in relief.
The position had been filled by one of Lymseia’s most trusted lieutenants: a demi-fae soldier from the Silver Court, named Sura Vilsdottyr. I didn’t know much about the ranks of the High King’s Guard, but even I was impressed by her skill and the articulate way in which she speaks.
When the curse broke, the rot disappeared from the East Tower. What once was an isolated cavern of sickness and decay, now looks like any other part of the castle. Despite that, it remains abandoned. Though, Vorr’s expanse collection of black leather gloves still lay out on the table in his bed chamber. Viridian can’t bring himself to dispose of them. And I don’t blame him.
The ill miners all made miraculous recoveries. The people say that at some point, an invisible blast spread through the land, and they suddenly were healed. The harvests show signs of being bountiful again, and the flow of metals between the five Courts is abundant, once more.
All is as it should be.
Though, when I think of the curse, there are still so many unanswered questions.
What did Vorr take?
Who is the stranger, with power strong enough to strike fear at the very mention of her?
And more importantly, where is she now?
I hope to someday find answers to these questions. Though, I don’t know if I ever will.
Tiffy knocks at my door and opens it, poking her head in.
“It’s time!” she squeals, giddy with excitement.
She enters my—and now, Viridian’s—bedchamber, and shoos him out. “I’m sorry Your Majesty, but we need ample room to get her ready.”
Viridian only laughs, backing away with his hands held up in surrender. “Of course, I understand.” He leans down to press a kiss to my cheek, that wicked smile tugging at his lips. “I will see you in the throne room, my queen.”
I return his smile, happy nerves jumbling in my stomach. “You’d better be waiting for me.”
“I’d hate to disappoint you.” He winks at me, as Tiffy quite literally shoves him out the door.
I chuckle, amused by the scene playing out before me.
“Now,” Tiffy says, turning her attention to me. “Let’s get you ready.”
I bathe, only emerging from the tub once Tiffy is satisfied, and my skin practically shines. Then, she helps me into a beautiful, bronze colored gown. The heavy fabric is woven with bronze metal, with beautiful rose detailing on the outer skirt. Tiffy styles my hair in elegant braids and twists around my head. All of it is up, off my back, and frames my face. She’s arranged it in such a way that my crown, when placed on my head, will sit beautifully in a bed of my auburn locks.
“You’re ready.” Tiffy places her hands on my shoulders, finding my eyes in the mirror. “How do you feel?”
“Wonderful,” I breathe. And I mean it.
I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.
She gives my shoulders a light squeeze. “You should! You look beautiful, Your Majesty .” She emphasizes my new title, and her excitement is contagious.
I stand and make my way down to the throne room, where Viridian waits outside, in the hall. Made from the same material, with the same design, his fitted jacket and pants match my dress. His loose black hair has been combed back off his face.
When he sees me, his expression lights up, and he immediately flashes me a smile.
I kiss him and pull out strands of his hair when I lean back. I twist that tendril of ebony hair over my finger, and then let it fall in front of his eyes.
“I like it better this way,” I say, meeting his gaze.
Viridian’s grin only spreads wider. “Then I’ll keep it like this.” He gestures to the double doors. “They’re ready for us.” He pauses, looking at me now. “Are you ready, my queen?”
I take a deep breath. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
Viridian nods, holding out his arm for me.
I take it, and we step into the throne room. It’s filled with people. All of the Heads of House and heir-apparents are in attendance—with the exception of the diplomats we sent to represent us—and we extended an invitation to any of Keuron’s citizens who desired to attend.
Father and Acantha beam at me as we pass them, moving down the aisle. Both are well cared for by the crown. Acantha spends her time with Slyfell’s human communities, helping them to regain their livelihoods. No longer needing to work in the mines, Father now spends his days learning how to whittle. Loren isn’t here, but then again, I didn’t expect him to be.
I return their smiles, and then look ahead.
Viridian and I approach the bronze thrones, stepping up onto the platform.
A priestess of Ixtia, the Goddess of Wisdom and Leadership, stands before us. She bows her head when we approach, and then holds up her hands.
Very much like we did on our wedding day, Viridian and I exchange several vows and promises.
Viridian goes first. “I, Crown Prince, Viridian Avanos, vow to lead with wisdom, compassion, and integrity. To put the kingdom first, above all.”
Then, the priestess looks at me expectantly. “Do you, Crown Princess, Cryssa Thurdred Pelleveron Avanos, vow to lead with wisdom, compassion, and integrity? To put the kingdom first, above all?”
“Yes,” I say, with pride rolling off me. “I, Crown Princess, Cryssa Thurdred Pelleveron Avanos, vow to lead with wisdom, compassion, and integrity. To put the kingdom first, above all.”
Only, unlike our wedding day, we don’t make these vows to each other. No, we make these promises to our subjects. To the people that sit before us. And to those who aren’t in attendance here today.
“Then with the blessing of Ixtia, and all of the gods,” the priestess says, “it is my honor to bestow upon you, the titles of High King and High Queen of all Inatia.”
Then, she places bronze crowns on both of our heads.
It is heavy on my head, but I welcome it and the responsibility it brings.
Taking Viridian’s hand and raising it up above our heads, I find my father’s face in the crowd, unable to contain my joy.
Turning to Viridian, I meet his gaze. Those amber eyes stare back at me, and I know they hold my future inside them.
“Long live the High King and Queen!” the priestess proclaims.
The crowd echoes her sentiment. “Long live the High King and Queen!”
And so, our reign begins.
L ife after our coronation is like life at High Keep was before, and yet, it is entirely different, all the same.
Viridian and I have many more responsibilities now. But we take each day, one step at a time, grateful for every moment we have. We still dine together in the evenings, and I spend many free moments in my studio, drawing. Now, we hang some of my drawings in frames around the castle. I wonder how long they’ll stay there, even after Viridian and I are nothing more than dust.
Now, we sit together in the great hall. Viridian no longer sits across from me, a table away. He’s taken up a new spot, directly to my right, while I sit at the head of the table.
“We have news from Myrdin,” Viridian says, taking a bite of meat and potato. “He’s arrived at Redbourne and has settled in.”
“Good,” I muse, relieved. “He’ll do well. He’s good with people.” Out of all those we could have chosen to represent us, while the kingdom recovers from the damage caused by the curse, Myrdin was the first one I thought of.
“He will.” Viridian nods. “Someday, he’ll make a fine Head of House.”
I voice my agreement in between bites.
“And what of Lymseia?” I ask, my brows stitched together .
“I don’t know,” Viridian admits. His expression morphs to match mine. “She hasn’t sent word.”
Worry lines my stomach. My movements slow.
“She’ll be all right,” Viridian says, more to himself than to me. “We’ll hear from her any day now.”
I nod. Though, I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.
The sound of the door scraping stone tears me from my thoughts. A servant stands, waiting by the threshold.
“Come in,” Viridian beckons.
The servant enters and approaches the table, hands clasped tightly. As if he’s nervous, or unsure.
“What is it?” I put my fork and knife down and lean forward.
“There is news of Lady Wynterliff,” the servant says.
We exchange glances. Then Viridian waves his hand, as if to prompt the servant to continue. “Please, tell us.”
The servant swallows. “There was an ambush at the Steel Court’s border.”
My heart sinks.
“All who accompanied Lady Wynterliff are dead.”
Viridian’s face pales. “Is she hurt?”
“I do not know, Your Majesty.”
“What?” Viridian asks, furrowing his brows. “How do we not know?”
Worry constricts in my chest.
I don’t need the servant to convey the message to us. His expression alone is enough to know what’s happened.
And when he does say it, it only confirms my fears.
“She’s disappeared, Your Majesties. There’s no sign of her.”
Clenching my hands into fists, I look at Viridian and meet his eyes. His mouth curls with rage, jaw clenched.
He speaks our suspicions aloud. His words hang heavy between us.
“Lymseia’s been taken.”
TO BE CONTINUED
(The Of Metals and Curses Series will continue in book 2, A Shattered Kingdom of Steel , which will feature our favorite badass Captain of the High King’s Guard as our FMC.)