Epilogue
Azalea
One century is a remarkably long time to hoard useless things. It boggles my mind the amount of stuff Braxton and I have collected when, for the majority of our existence, we never left this castle.
I huff out a breath, blowing a few stray curls out of my face, as my fingers skim through more weathered and yellowed documents in the confines of Braxton’s desk.
When my curls fall back in front of my eyes, I frustratedly push them under the scarf tied around my head, holding back the rest of my mane of curls.
My hair has gotten exceedingly long in the last year, falling to almost my mid-back.
I should cut it, but every time I contemplate doing so, Braxton reminds me about how I love the feeling of his fingers running through my hair, especially when he knots his fingers through my curls and tugs my head back.
My core tightens at the thought, and I quickly shake it from my head and focus back on sorting through Braxton’s files.
We decided about a week ago that it was time for us to leave the castle.
We have no idea what to expect of the world out there after we’ve been trapped in here for a century, but we can’t keep hiding away.
Slowly but surely, all of the staff began to leave once they learned the curse was lifted.
Some left immediately, while others waited, helping me and Braxton get our things in order and teaching us certain maintenance aspects of the castle and its landscape.
Rhoden was the last to leave, and I all but had to shove her out the door.
She always had a traveler’s heart, and she had no business staying stuck within the confines of these stone walls any longer.
The only way I was able to convince her to finally go live her own life was by assuring her that we would meet back at the castle in a year’s time to plan our own trip to travel together.
After about a month of having the castle to ourselves, Braxton and I decided it was time for a new adventure. We were going to start by traveling back to Blushing Bay, where all my dreams of traveling the world started. I want to see what’s become of my homeland in the century I’ve been away.
We also didn’t have much of a choice but to leave after we accidentally killed our gardens and ran out of the limited stock of food we had. We’ve spent the last week trying to get as much of the castle in order, going through and discovering what we do and don’t need to bring with us.
My fingers stall when it comes across a document I’ve seen before. A document that a year prior looked very different when I turned Braxton’s entire study upside down, trying to find it. I gingerly grasp the paper and hold it closer to my face.
This is the contract of the curse that Braxton made with Dianthus.
It must have been charmed in some way to blend in with all the other documents Braxton had in his drawers so that I wouldn’t notice it.
Tucking my feet underneath me, I lean my back against the nearby wall as my eyes start skimming over the words.
I can’t stop myself from reading through it over and over again.
Just as I finish my fifth or sixth reread of the document, I hear a gentle knock on the door.
“I did my best to try and make some kind of food. I think it’s edible, but—” Braxton stops when he sees me huddled in the corner of his study with the document.
“I found the contract you made with Dianthus. The original one,” I state this as if he hasn’t already figured that out, but I feel like my brain is still catching up with what I just read.
For so long, I craved to know the parameters of the curse, and even after having all of my memories fully restored, I still find myself shocked by its contents.
Braxton stiffens, slowly setting the food down on his desk.
“Azalea,” he says my name on a sorrowed sigh, and I know he’s more than ready to have our troublesome past buried. But the questions inside of me are too loud, begging to be set free.
“I haven’t gotten my three questions in a long time.”
His lips lift in a ghost of a smile.
“Can I use them now?”
Without answering, he joins me on the ground, moving close enough so that our legs brush against each other, but not pulling me into his lap as he usually would.
“You could have left?” I waste no time in getting to the question that plagues me the most after reading the contract he drafted with Dianthus.
“Are you sure you want to make your question so broad. I could simply answer yes and then that’s one question all used up,” he teases. His arm skates around my waist and tucks me closer to him. I narrow my eyes, before pointing to the clause I’m referencing in the contract.
“It says that if you chose to leave me, she wouldn’t have stopped you. If you told her you had had enough and that you were done, you could have walked right off the castle grounds. ”
“That’s not really a question, Wildflower.”
“After centuries of enduring me hating you, you still chose to stay trapped in the castle with me instead of restarting your life with someone else. You could have been freed from the torment, and I would have been none the wiser.”
I know it’s not a question, but my inquiry is hidden in my statement. Every minute, day, week, month, and year of that century he spent here with me was completely by his choice.
“I stayed.” He smiles gently, cupping my cheek.
I press my face further into his palm, relishing in the feel of his skin on mine.
“I’ll always stay. There is no other option for me, Azalea, than you.
I would rather have you hate me, scream at me, fantasize about killing me, and curse my name into the ground than not ever have any piece of you ever again.
” His thumb lovingly brushes along my cheek.
“Though I can admit, this is much better than having you contemplate stabbing me from across the table.”
A watery laugh bubbles out of me.
“If I told you I still contemplate stabbing you, would you still stay?” I arch an eyebrow playfully, and a rich chuckle rumbles out of his chest.
How could I have not realized my life was absent of all of my favorite things for so long? His smile. His laugh. The gleam of peace in his eyes as he studies my face. The feeling of his lips against mine.
As if reading my mind, his lips brush mine before he says, “Yes. I would stay.”
“I love you,” I whisper hoarsely, my emotions beginning to build to almost unbearable levels.
He sighs happily before bringing his forehead down to mine. Closing his eyes, he murmurs, “Say it again.”
“I love you,” I repeat bringing my hand up to hold the back of his neck.
Another content sigh escapes him. “I will never tire of hearing that.”
“I’ll never tire of saying it.” I smile. “Now you tell me.”
He laughs again. “Have I not shown it? Don’t actions speak louder than words?”
“Since actions aren’t actually spoken and words are, I’m going to say no. Your actions are not louder than your words.”
His eyes fill with amusement as he brings his face down, hovering his lips above mine. “Would you like to test that theory?” He drops his lips to the side of my neck, giving me a languid, teasing kiss.
“Braxton,” I gasp as he finally pulls me onto his lap. “Tell me,” I plead.
Though I love where this is going, I need to hear him say it.
He pulls back to look at me again, seeming to have regained his composure, but I can see the dilation in his pupils and how his breath is just slightly hitched.
I glide my palm down to his chest, feeling the gentle thrum of his heartbeat against my fingertips.
“You have one more question. Ask me,” he demands.
“Do you love me?” I feel foolish as the question leaves my lips, but his exuberant smile wipes away all of my insecurities.
“You were never my curse Azalea, only my salvation. I was willing to spend the rest of my life with you hating me as long as that meant spending the rest of my life with you.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I fist my hand in his shirt, pulling him down to me until our lips latch together.
“Technically, I never hated you,” I mumble against his lips. “I just didn’t realize who you were. I didn’t realize you were the home I was desperate to get to.”
He laughs and shakes his head.
“You know that technically wasn’t an answer,” I jest as my fingers fiddle with the buttons of his shirt.
He releases an exasperated sigh and pulls his head back to look at me. “Yes, Wildflower, I love you. I never stopped loving you, and I will continue to love you until my very last breath.”
His grip on my hips tighten with his words, pulling me even closer to him so that our bodies perfectly curve into each other.
We stay holding each other like this, like two broken halves trying to fuse ourselves back together.
But we both know we don’t fit perfectly anymore.
We’ve shattered, molded, and grown. We’ve become completely different people, but at the end of it all, we still found each other. We still chose each other.
I have to believe that fate brought him to me. I think our love was destined to be the beautiful tragedy that the Divine knew we could somehow endure and still come out stronger and more in love on the other side.
So, fate brought us to each other, a tragedy nearly ripped us apart, a curse tried to permanently break us, and at the end of it all, it still came down to our choice.
He will always choose me. And I will always choose him.
Until our final days. Until our last breaths.
We will choose each other. Again and again.