Epilogue
Isca
Claiming fatigue, I snuck away from the sounds of merriment fading behind me. It was hard to believe I was leaving a feast being held in my honor. Catrin and Adyn had made the night even better by announcing their upcoming wedding to take place during the midwinter festival.
How different my life was. Months ago, I’d come to Tir Darreth a prisoner of sorts, who was supposed to heal this kingdom.
But back then, I’d been willing to take from them if it meant my family’s safety.
Now…these people were my family, my people.
Even as I sat alone in my room, the warmth of my family and friends wrapped around me like a blanket against the chill autumn air.
That I’d come from a humble background meant little to the people of Darreth. They’d welcomed me with open arms, and tonight they’d celebrated the legacy Emrys and I had only just begun.
I shook my head, thinking about the truth the traveling woman had spoken when she cast her chicken bones so many years before. I’d dismissed her as a fraud. But now I’d never been happier to be wrong.
Love had taken the Assembly’s dark demand and sliced away every layer of my fear. It had made me brave enough to make the choice that now brought me so much joy—that was helping me build a future I could never have imagined.
I hadn’t made a quiet escape from the feast because I was too exhausted or because I was nervous. I was leaving to finish a task I’d been putting off for far too long.
With a quill in hand, I began to write.
Chancellor Maeron of the Mage Assembly in Caervorn,
The fulfillment of your aspirations for your diplomat is at hand. Our healers say it might even be twins, but only time will tell.
I was at my desk when Emrys came, his footsteps muffled by a spell, trying to sneak up on me.
Little did he know that my magic seemed to be growing along with my belly every day.
Two days ago, on a whim, I’d tried to light a candle with magic, and with a soft whoosh, it had burst into flame.
I’d surprise him with that revelation when he was having a difficult time with the curse.
I knew he was sneaking, but I still let out a tiny squeak of surprise when the ornate chair I sat upon was lifted straight into the air and moved aside.
“Escaping your own feast. Naughty queen…” He crouched in front of me, his low voice rumbling in my ear. “You are too diplomatic with them, even now, cariad.”
“No need to antagonize them further,” I protested weakly. Really, I would’ve been happy to watch them burn, but now I had a pregnancy to worry over, I felt more cautious.
Emrys suffered none of the same restraint. “The Assembly has grown bored of Gelida’s stalemate, Larethia’s continued rebuffs, and our silence. They’ve made their first move.”
My throat constricted, and my stomach plunged, churning with nausea—worse than the mother’s sickness I’d experienced the past few weeks. “Tell me.”
“Owain has been missing for more than a fortnight,” he said stiffly. “Though there’s still hope. No body or ransom demand has shown up at Tir Larethia.”
“No…” A lump formed in my throat as my emotions swelled. Owain didn’t deserve to suffer for the political choices we’d made.
Emrys continued. “If he doesn’t show his face at the castle within the week, I’ll be making personal inquiries.”
“Emrys…” I cautioned, although he’d already proven that he was the best person for the job.
Despite my protests, he was stony-faced. “I have my queen and my heirs on the throne. Without a suitor to appease Anwen’s court, we’ll have to send Nisien early to keep the peace. He’ll stay here with you until I return—if it comes to it.”
I nodded, trying to hide the fact that he wouldn’t be going alone, but also feeling guilty for what might’ve befallen Owain.
Fast as lightning, Emrys seized my quill, startling another squeak out of me. I loved every moment of this fresh, playful side of him. He began writing with resolute strokes. Standing to lean over him, I watched my penmanship give way to the bold strokes of his hand.
If that is cause for celebration among your ranks, temper it with this: Your gamble ends here.
The child you tried to commission is not an asset. They are ours—ours to love, ours to protect.
I am no longer your weapon. Isca, no longer your pawn.
She is my queen.
You will not touch her. You will not look toward her. You will not as much as breathe in the direction of Darreth’s walls. Your people are no longer welcome in my kingdom.
Send armies or send apologies as you wish. I will meet them all. Should you seek to claim anything that belongs to me, you will see what loss feels like.
You thought to control me through fear. But you forgot that fear is a chain, and I have broken every single shackle placed upon me.
Do not test me again, or it will be your final move in our little game.
By my own hand,
Emrys, King of Darreth, Stormdan in my own right
His signature was the final, decisive flourish.
Hand outstretched, I waited for him to return the quill.
Emrys conceded but curled my fingers around it instead of letting go.
Still holding me there, he pulled me into an embrace.
Wrapped up in his wild scent of leather and smoke, I kissed my king, my cheeks still flushed from the joy of tonight’s pregnancy announcement.
“Your turn,” he whispered as he let go, kissing me one more time on the forehead.
I added my name to the bottom, signing it with my title—no longer borrowed.
Isca, Queen of Darreth
And happiest woman in all of Avanfell.
But the Assembly was not an enemy to be cowed with one letter, no matter how pointed the threat. They’d been playing their game for generations. And we’d just given them a new reason to move their pieces.
The End