Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The expectant grin on Ace’s face when I find him in the library is too plain to ignore.
If I were a better liar, I would have played ignorant just to see how he might try and draw the information out of me.
Instead, I just nod, my own smile taking over, as he scoops me into the biggest hug.
“I already have sisters, but you are my new favorite. Ssh, don’t tell them. ” His laugh is the warm welcome I need.
Soria had been kind, as she always is. But I can sense she carries a deeper mix of emotions than she lets on. She is happy for us, truly. There’s more left unsaid, though. I didn’t press. Not today. Today I just wanted to enjoy myself.
Ace is the perfect companion for just that. Well, perfect, given that Vale has work to attend to and Ace continues on without a care in the world. Just what I need right now when duty and expectation loom on the horizon for me.
We make no pretense of gathering any books. He takes me arm in arm to our usual spot, the gleam in his eye never wavering. As we sit, he takes my hand, a brow raised at the sight of it bare.
I pull the chain tucked into my bodice and the ring resting by my heart. “Just for now,” I assure him. “We will let everyone know soon.”
“I’m sure he wants to shout it from the highest turret. I don’t know that I have ever seen the man such a mix of nerves and excitement as he was when he came to me.”
“It won’t be the easiest announcement, telling everyone their king is slumming it with the likes of me.” I hide my fears behind humor.
Ace doesn’t laugh. He only softens. “You have already gained so much favor in such a short time.” No fake niceties. For as much as he jests, he speaks the plainest truths. “Yes, some are set in their ways. Gods…” The turn is dramatic, even for Ace. “Do you know what your kind called us?”
“Immortal?” I am completely caught off guard in how he switched.
Utterly bemused by his own thoughts, he continues, “No…. You may call us that now, but before, before we were The Blessed.” He says it in such formality, straightening his posture and tucking his thumbs in some imagined vest, before buckling into a ruckus of laughter. I give him a moment to contain himself.
“Sorry, sorry. It’s an old wound for many that I find easier to just laugh at.
” More seriously now, “Mortals called us that because of how we were connected to magic. Our kind, we never needed a name for ourselves until we started to live more closely with mortals and were revered for how we worked with magic. While very few truly wielded magic, we all lived in harmony with it. Rains were sure and steady, crops were more reliable, life was something special. We were special. Or at least that’s how some still look back at it.
After the Fade, as war and hunger tore the lands to shreds, any mortal that might remember viewed us as cursed.
Until eventually, the world moved on; we became utterly separate, and for many, irrelevant.
Those who lived through it all, they cling to the old days.
To the feeling of being special, to being The Blessed,” he chuffs as he says the words.
Shaking it off and fighting to remember where he had started when he spoke, he turns to me.
“But those old bags are few and far between. Some may have spewed their rhetoric to the new generations, but overall, I think most people just want more. More than these walls.” He gestures around us.
Placing a reassuring hand on my arm, “There is still fear, but there is also hope. People are craving change. They want something different. And you, m’lady, are as different as they come.”
“Hey!” I pull my arm back, being overly dramatic with my indignation. Ace lives his life as if he is on a stage, and it would seem I have been near him enough I too perform to the rafters when it’s just us.
Our conversation shifts. Less heaviness than before. I try to cling to the hope. I stand grounded in the love between Vale and I. And still, a nagging restlessness stirs within me. By midday, I need a change of scenery and we part ways.
I find myself paying a visit to Fenloris and his maps.
He knows nothing of the impending nuptials, and I find it refreshing after the morning.
He asks how I’m feeling, word of my intense fever reaching even his quiet corner.
The rose in my cheeks quells any real concern though and we dive back into my studies.
He clears a precarious stack of parchment, nearly upsetting an inkwell before catching it the moment before it tips. “Forgive the chaos,” he mutters. “I rarely need to make sense of things for anyone other than myself outside of council chambers.”
My soft smile steadies him, and we find an easy rhythm. Fenloris indulges my every whim, growing more confident as I inquire about his life’s work.
I pour through the books and scrolls with this newfound vigor.
I have always had a thirst for knowledge, yet I feel I could drink a whole sea and not be quenched.
The vellum is cool beneath my palms, edges worn soft by generations of hands.
Ink stains bloom along my fingertips once more, and I do not wipe them clean.
It’s not until a knock raps at the door that I lift my head from the array of maps.
Vale stands in the doorway, one shoulder braced on the frame, so casual it steals my breath—and I wonder how long he’s been standing there.
My smile brightens as warmth at the sight of him washes over me.
It settles, just so, as Fenloris stumbles in the informal presence of the king, and I am reminded sharply of what Vale is in this place.
I say goodbye to Fenloris and leave the maps behind, stepping into the corridors at Vale’s side.
We won’t have much time before Soria readies me for the banquet, but we both need this—this stolen stretch of quiet before the evening demands its performance.
The private walk up the stairs to the royal chambers permits us to be more free with each other than the crowd this evening will allow.
I find myself grateful for these moments when I can bask in the nearness of the man more than the weight of the crown.
He stops me on the steps. Standing above him now, I wrap my arms around his neck as he anchors me at the waist, one palm sliding down just enough to cup my backside. I bite at his lower lip through the kisses.
“Why, Lord Vale,” I murmur, breathless, “tread lightly, or I may refuse to put on a gown for tonight and just wait in bed until you give in to me.”
He climbs one step. Then another until we are on the same plane.
He towers above me.
“I’ll let you blaze, little flame,” his voice low, stirring a heat I burn to answer. “Later.”
He continues up the steps, reaching back for my hand.
Our wicked smiles mirror one another as we continue the climb, stopping just as we reach the top before the corridor to our rooms. His fingers tangle in my hair, my head rolling into his guiding tug. Lips locked, my chest rises, my breasts pressing into him, begging for more.
This time, I am the first to pull away.
Down the hall. To my own door.
He has to adjust himself before we part, a crooked smile on his lips. “Don’t let Soria take too long,” he says softly. “I want you back in my arms as soon as possible.”
I carry that fire with me all the way to the banquet hall.
Soria was uncharacteristically quiet while preparing me. In a deep umber velvet gown that shimmers in the glowing light all around. I steady myself with the sleeping power of the earth, limitless potential waiting to spring forward.
Even without reaching to hold it, I feel the ring tucked away against my chest.
The promise we’ve made.The oath we’ll fulfill.
My smile is true. Even with my eyes locked forward to greet those waiting for our arrival, I feel the gravity between us.
Vale takes me on his arm and leads us into the hall.
I hold my head high not from sheer willfulness but with the place at his side I will strive to be worthy of.
This is no longer a battle for survival.
I want to be here. With him, in Caerhollan, these people, this life. I want it all.
I feel as strong as the mountain itself. It does not climb because it is reaching for something; it stands tall because it is the mountain. It is the power. And tonight, even if just for a moment, so am I.
Vale commands the room. Wine glass in hand, greeting the court.
His voice carries across the hall without strain.
“Welcome all. And welcome to a new season! Let this one carry new hope, new blessings, and may each day bring us closer to greater unity for all. To Caerhollan.” He raises his glass as everyone joins. “To Caerhollan!”
I welcome the smiling faces that approach. I no longer cower like the girl who arrived here those weeks ago. I regard people by name, I ask about things we have discussed. It’s still all so new, but it also feels right.
Turning to look at Vale in between well wishers, his smile carries a quiet awe.
That’s the first crack I feel in my composure.
I almost laugh. That man can undo me with a look.
Usually one that carries more heat than surprise, but that same adoration is always there.
He loves me. I can see it as surely as I see the sun on a cloudless day.
My chest tightens, my soul stopping to recognize the power of it all.
I love him too. With every fiber of my being.
Laughter carries us through the evening. My soft lyrical tones and Vale’s deep resonance. They form an undeniable harmony. I’m happy. Really truly happy.