55. EPILOGUE
EPILOGUE
VERONICA
Three Months Later
Mary was found guilty by the council this morning.
The Harold family has been banished from the grounds of Hawthorn.
Sebastian declared publicly that any and all ties with the kingdom of Tria are severed indefinitely.
The trial took roughly three months to put together, Sebastian wanted to be sure all counts against Mary were viable.
In the end, she was found guilty with the intention of body mutilation of another, as well as forgery of a royal official.
The ex-Queen of Hawthorn remains in a cell, right where she belongs.
As for the Beverly name? It was cleared the very first week Sebastian was crowned. My Uncle Thomas even has a memorial bench in the garden; it was delivered last week. Sebastian gave me full permission on placement.
It sits by the Juliet rose bushes. Georgina sits on the bench often.
“Vee, I’m back.” Gareth calls out. He’s dressed in a training uniform.
Sebastian has honored him as an upcoming royal guard of Hawthorn.
It was something Gareth dreamed of doing, though I am pretty sure he’s heavily considering how much he wants it right now.
Sebastian’s best friend, Michael, is the Captain of the Guard and has taken the liberty of training him personally.
They hate each other, one will kill the other by the end of the training. I just haven’t decided on who.
I lift my gaze from the koi fish swimming in the small pond, noting the bit of dirt smudged on his freckled cheeks.
His brown shaggy curls are kept neat to his head, falling over his forehead instead.
The royal blue uniform is rumpled, his jacket completely unbuttoned to show the white undershirt beneath.
Gareth drops to his knees dramatically, a groan leaving his lips as his head falls into my lap. His eyes glance to the pond, dragging his fingertips through the cool water. The koi fish follow the motion, chasing his fingers. I run my own fingers through his curls.
“Rough day?” I muse, smirking. Gareth lets out a grunt, pulling his hand from the water.
“Every day, I think General Douche is going to be civil.” Gareth starts, rolling onto his back so he can stare up at me. “Then every day, he only becomes douchier.”
“General Douche?” Sebastian’s voice cuts through the complaining.
Gareth jumps, his shoulders pulling together until he rolls from my lap, and is on his feet. I watch in amusement as the panic surges through him, finding the same expression playing on Sebastian’s lips.
Sebastian tilts his head, strands of his chestnut hair falling across his forehead. He’s going to let it grow out again. He tilts his gaze toward me for a moment before looking back to Gareth who is standing tall with his arms by his sides.
“Gareth, relax.” He says casually, and Gareth visibly deflates, his hand tossed up in defeat as he backs away.
“You wouldn’t be saying that if General Douche was here!” Gareth shouts over his shoulder, the soles of his boots slapping against the stoned path angrily as he heads through the vined arbor.
I watch the corner of Sebastian’s lips twitch before he shifts to his haunches. My eyes close at the touch of his palm to my skin, and I lean into him instinctively. His thumb brushes against the apple of my cheek; I peer up to see those softened honey irises staring down at me.
“C’mon, Little Dove.” Sebastian breathes, guiding me up from the grass. I follow willingly.
Our arms sway by our sides as we walk, his fingers intertwined with my own to keep us connected.
Every day since the coronation has been filled with something new.
I no longer stay in a separate chamber; I sleep with Sebastian in his.
All the dresses I had while I was a maid were discarded, replaced with finer ones.
Sure, they aren’t up to par with royalty, but I prefer them that way. Every one is nearly the same, royal blue or cream in color. They flow slightly, giving the room I need to breathe in without being suffocated.
We walk in comfortable silence down the hallway and up the staircase to the East Wing. Sebastian releases my hand, turning until he’s walking backwards in front of me. My eyebrow rises, curiosity lingering as he takes my hands, stopping both of us mid-walk.
“You okay?” I ask. His lips pull up, expression softening.
“I love you.” Sebastian murmurs as he brings my hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my skin.
I search his eyes, my chest tightening, “I love you too, what’s going on?”
He pulls me to him, guiding my cheek to his chest. I feel the warmth of his mouth to the top of my head before we are walking again.
Silence stretches along the hallway with each step.
Sebastian’s arm around my back, his large hand resting on my hip.
He ushers me to the closed door at the end of the hall, to the nursery.
“Sebastia—” He turns me to him, cutting my breath off.
“It’s time, Ronnie.” Sebastian’s voice is soft. He pushes a stray strand of my hair from my face, tucking it gingerly behind my ear. Our eyes meet, his searching mine for a long moment. I’m terrified, and he can probably see it.
Even after the ceremony, I haven’t met the twins. The curtain remained in place, but I have been able to hold them, talk to them, sing to them. It was all precaution until the trial was complete. I didn’t try to buck the system, I had to trust Sebastian with this decision.
My fingers tremble, gripping his hand for dear life. Logically, I know I shouldn’t be so scared to see them, but I am. What if they cry when they see me for the first time? Will they know who I am or will I be a complete stranger to them?
Sebastian pulls me closer to the door, yanking me from the never-ending possibilities of what could and could not happen.
We move through the door silently, the pounding of my heart rattling through my ears.
I instinctively close my eyes, turning my face into Sebastian’s neck.
He doesn’t make a move to pull me from him and I’m thankful.
He keeps me from falling over.
I hear shifting of footsteps, but I still don’t open my eyes, my fingers gripping the front of Sebastian’s white collared shirt.
Warmth blooms on my hand as he covers the top of it with his own, in a gesture of comfort.
I’m guided into a chair, gasping when it rocks back as soon as I sit. A rocking chair. A rocking chair.
My heart stutters in my chest, while the muscles of my eyes work on overdrive to keep them shut. I’m scared. I’m so scared.
“Ron.” Sebastian whispers.
I swallow in response, willing the trembling of my bottom lip to cease.
Sebastian smooths his thumb over my lip, startling me.
The pressure on my eyes release and I lift my lids, wincing almost immediately.
His lips lift, eyes unwavering. My chest tightens and Sebastian stands.
He blocks my view, but only for a brief second.
Georgina and Missy turn in unison, and I forget how to breathe.
Wrapped in royal blue, the twins are tucked cozily in each of their arms. Sebastian moves to stand beside the dark oak rocking chair, his hand steadying the back from moving.
My eyes move to the bundles. Georgina slides one into the crook of Sebastian’s free arm while Missy lowers the other into my awaiting hands.
The weight is familiar; I let out a breath.
Soft coos fill my ears, followed by a tug on a free strand of my hair.
I flick my gaze down, my breath catching at the big honey eyes staring curiously up at me.
Porcelain skin and the smallest bit of dark hair, curling at the top of the baby’s head.
Tears spring to my eyes as a bubble of laughter rings out from below.
An overflow of love builds in my chest as I look down at the small face.
“Jameson.” Sebastian says.
I look up at him, confused. “Jameson…” I whisper, my voice shaky. He smiles and nods, moving to kneel in front of me.
Sebastian shifts our little girl in his arms until I can see her face. Her skin is porcelain as well, hair lighter than Jameson’s. Small moles litter her skin, much like Sebastian’s. I smile widely, looking between the two of them.
“Jameson and…” I begin.
“Lilith.” Sebastian finishes.
Tears fall, dropping onto the cloth swaddling Jameson. Everything I have ever wanted is right here, in this room. Everything I have ever endured led me to this moment.
I’d do it again, without question.