Epilogue
Timeline: Three months after The Great Midsummer Market
Elian
The post-season lull always arrived in Everend like a slow, deep breath after a frantic sprint.
With the Great Midsummer Market packed away into ledgers and storage crates, the bustling heart of the town settled into a comfortable, local rhythm.
The sprawling seas of visitors had vanished, replaced by the quiet hum of the monthly regional market—an affair attended mostly by townspeople, lingering merchants and the occasional wandering caravan.
For me, it meant a welcome shift in pace.
The manic energy of the high season gave way to the steady work of custom alchemical orders for selected customers and new matchstick designs, all managed from the comfort of my cottage workshop.
That allowed me to be creative and kept me busy, without frenzy.
Which was fortunate, because my husband’s latest grand venture had co-opted my newfound leisure time entirely.
“Higher with that lantern, Morrigen. No, to the left. Your other left.” Fern waved his hand to the side a few times in a counterproductive demonstration since Morrigen couldn’t see him. “Goddess, you might be a theoretical genius, but your spatial awareness is—”
“Leave him be, Fern. You know he’s not comfortable with heights. It’s already impressive he climbed that ladder at all,” Verity said, with fondness in his voice.
I leaned against one of the wooden practice racks, watching the joyful transformation of the old warehouse near Tower Hall. The following day Kill’em’s fencing school would officially open its doors.
Three months after getting married, the change Kill’em’s arrival had made to my life still seemed mind-boggling to me.
I’d never imagined I could have been this happy.
While this bordered on a miracle, I was equally stunned by how well he’d adjusted to life here and how smooth and organic the transition had turned out to be.
On the final day of the market, Kill’em had been roped into an impromptu fencing tournament, where in mere minutes he’d dismantled a few high-level royal guards and aristocrats—all deemed Everend’s most excellent fencers.
That outcome had the swooning nobility in hysterics, all of them throwing their festive favours and flowers at him; and in the case of one marquess, who’d taken it a step further, a pair of lacy knickers.
Ever since, prospective students had besieged our cottage, requesting lessons from Chief Renyés.
Among them counted local highborns, offspring of wealthy merchants and travelling armed escorts seeking to keep their skills sharp between caravan contracts.
With Cholerius securing the municipal permits and helping to obtain premises, Kill’em had become a respectable owner of the town's first fencing academy. It came as a surprise, but the two of them got on well.
Across the room, Kill’em stood speaking with Verity, his posture relaxed yet primed with the fluid poise of a martial practitioner.
The old blade master still lingered in the marrow of his bones.
I sometimes caught him in the act of reaching for the sabre that no longer sat at his hip.
His long fingers would curl inward in a phantom habit he couldn't quite shake—a brief, instinctive grasp guided by muscle memory. Every time this had happened, he sported a fleeting look of puzzlement at finding nothing but air where his weapon used to be, but he didn’t seem heartbroken about it.
Not that he needed a weapon to cause an immense amount of structural damage in a fight–he could do that with his bare hands alone.
As though sensing my eyes on him, Kill’em turned his head in my direction. His frosty blue gaze locked onto mine, melting instantly into something scorching and private. A slow, knowing smile tugged at his lips, sending a sudden, familiar coil of heat straight to my abdomen.
Smiling back, I walked over to him and slipped my hand into his. His calloused fingers wrapped around mine, squeezing with that grounding, familiar pressure I sought.
“The wooden dummies are oiled and arranged into a pristine row, Chief Renyés,” I murmured, tilting my head up to glance at him.
“The practice swords are sorted by size and weight. I even applied an anti-slip enchantment to the floor in the training hall. I believe we are officially ready for tomorrow. You can rest easy and focus on the festivities.”
“Thank you,” he rumbled, his voice low against my ear, his hand wandering towards the danger zone of my backside. “Though I must say I find myself entirely unfocused by having my handsome assistant in such close proximity.”
“Hush. Stop it,” I took a peep towards my friends, heat rising up my neck. “Look here, I’ve brought you something.” I reached into my satchel and pulled out a small parcel wrapped in velvet. “A good luck token for tomorrow. Something to wear on your belt.”
Kill’em let his hands slide from me with obvious reluctance, took the parcel and unfolded the cloth with care.
Inside lay a heavy ornament, styled after the martial traditions.
Thick, luxurious tassels of indigo silk bound a trio of exquisitely carved jade charms, commissioned from the finest craftsman I could find in the artisan district.
He lifted it by the cord, examining the intricate carvings. “An anchor. A kite. And a pumpkin.” A genuine laugh huffed from his chest. Even though that sound happened with increased frequency of late, I still considered hearing it a treat.
“The pumpkin is a matter of legal record, thanks to Cholerius’s Spousal Audit.” I grimaced, remembering the mortifying experience. “The kite is obviously—
“You. Always flying high, drifting away and scattering in the wind.”
“And the anchor,” I lowered my voice. “Well, the anchor is you, keeping me grounded. And, um, happy during our late-night tethering rituals.”
Kill’em’s eyes sparkled as he looked down at me with intense emotion. “I’ll keep it on my person. Always.” His mouth quirked. “Does it perhaps carry an enchantment?”
“Duh.” I sniffed. “Naturally. If you are ever more than ten minutes late to meet me, it will start emitting an incredibly loud, annoying whistle until you find me.”
Kill’em’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “A terrifying tactical gift, worthy of the Everend’s brightest magical alchemist,” he murmured.
Before I could object, he caught me by the waist and swept me off my feet, pulling me against him.
I let out a startled gasp, but he held tight, kissing me, unbothered by the audience and laughter from across the room.
It took some time for him to deposit me back on the floor, his hand lingering on my hip as he clipped the indigo tassel to the leather belt of his tunic.
“Oh, look at you two. How sickening,” Settie cried from the top of the ladder, where she must’ve replaced Morrigen, hanging a string of celebratory golden paper lanterns.
“Absolutely disgraceful. By the way, commander, don’t forget the Warlords tournament at the Bold Trader the day after tomorrow.
If we lose to those eejits from the Strategy Guild and don't make it to the grand finale, I’ll cry my eyes out. ”
“Never fret, Settie. Victory is assured,” Kill’em replied with deadpan seriousness. “Our defensive formation is ironclad. The Strategy Guild doesn’t stand half a chance.”
I bit down my smile. It was absurd, really, how Kill’em had been embraced by the community.
Even now, through the open double doors of the academy, a couple of local passers-by paused to wave and call out good-luck wishes to their Chief.
Since we hadn't been able to throw a proper wedding feast during the recent chaos, tomorrow’s grand opening would double as a marriage celebration for the entire neighbourhood—the perfect excuse to indulge in song and dance while savouring mead and pastries.
I looked over at the table, where Morrigen and Verity leaned over a shared parchment, applying finishing touches to the advertising poster with a long brush. Their shoulders brushed in a way that had become the norm over the last three months.
But it was the opposite side of the tabletop that caught my eye with sharper focus.
High Arbiter Cholerius Broxyy perched on a wooden stool, appearing slightly uncomfortable out of his pristine, bureaucratic element.
Nursing a cup of Fern’s herbal tonic, he sat engaged in a quiet conversation with my best friend.
Both appeared pretty content sitting awfully, awfully close to one another.
I blinked. Cholerius avoided people as a rule, but he’d always held a soft spot for Fern; that much I’d realised.
That favouritism alone explained why Fern’s stall enjoyed a prime location in the Astrology and Magic Services section, rather than within the Apothecary and Physic block—the more logical home for herbal medicine.
Granted, I also suspected the Council had an ulterior motive, preferring to place sensible Fern next door to me, using him as a built-in handler to put out my fires when I stirred up trouble.
Still, I’d never seen the pair practically breathing each other’s air like this before.
“Stop gaping, pumpkin,” Kill’em murmured, his index finger pushing my hanging jaw to a close. His hand on my shoulder blade, he guided me toward the front of the pavilion. “It’s time for the unveiling of the plaque.”
We all gathered on the cobblestones outside, the cool evening air carrying the scent of osmanthus scones and roasted walnuts from the lower streets.
Framed by a glowing string of colourful paper lanterns, the warehouse facade looked the part indeed.
Hanging above the grand entrance was a heavy wooden plaque, concealed by a piece of red silk.
“Go on. Do the honours, Chief.” Fern smiled at Kill’em and nudged Cholerius forwards to stand beside us.
Kill’em reached up to take the cord of the veil in his hand. His blue gaze met mine. With a smooth, decisive pull, the silk fell away.
Carved deep into the polished dark oak, inlaid with gleaming silver leaf that caught the twilight, were the words: ELIAN’S SHIELD FENCING ACADEMY.
On the right side of the signboard, a craftsman had engraved the rugged, wind-swept silhouette of an Everend Pine, its thick bark rendered like armour. Resting right at the foot of its roots, floating atop a few delicate ripples of water, sat a beautiful black lotus in full bloom.
A chorus of cheers and applause broke out behind us. I stared at the plaque, my breath shaky.
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes and I pressed my forehead to Kill’em's hard chest, my fingers clutching the fabric of his tunic. Kill'em rested his chin against my hair, his heart beating a slow, reassuring rhythm.
What had once been a nighttime fantasy—the ridiculous pining of a lonely heart—now solidified into a waking reality I’d thanked the goddess for with every breath.
Who could have guessed that tearing a hole through the multiverse and committing a spot of interdimensional abduction would amount to the peak career move of my life?
I’d only hoped for an uninterrupted night's rest. Instead, I snagged the love of my life: a devastatingly gorgeous, devoted husband who walked away from everything he knew just to choose me.
The End
If you would like to find out more about the universe Ke?lhem originally hails from, check out my series, The Order, which is set in the Elven Country.
That collection consists of five books and features hot military Elves, bows and blades in a fantasy setting with a little more edge. Happy reading!