Epilogue
The cheers rang out, making Aoife laugh with excitement as Shadach stepped behind the bar of the Knitting Widow.
The bar was packed, Xana sitting with Halcin sitting with Selat.
Aoife couldn’t remember ever having seen that in her travels.
A freshly etched sign above the bar read “Bring the Tavern to the Kingdom.” Aoife had been told it had once said “Leave the Kingdom at the Door.” A call to keep the problems of the Kingdom outside.
Now, it was a call to bring the goodness of what had been created in the Knitting Widow into the wider Kingdom.
It was time to start trusting and embracing each other. No more hiding. No more Shadows.
Shadach began making a cocktail and the cheers grew three times as loud.
“Two Soulmates.” Aoife took two cocktails off her serving tray and set them on a table of waiting customers. The Soulmate was Shadach’s latest stroke of cocktail genius and was all the rage at the Knitting Widow.
“Don’t think we’ve met,” said one of the men at the table. “I’m Marcus.” He held out his hand, one of his eyes a bright blue while the other was glossed-over grey.
“Aoife.” She shook his hand and he laughed.
“I know. One tends to know the name of the Empress.” Marcus leaned in close. “Not to toot my own horn, but I’m the one who kicked Shadach’s ass and made him go look for you at the temple in the first place.”
Aoife wiped a small spill off Marcus’ table. “And I will forever be grateful you did.”
Marcus’ grin was chuffed. “Don’t mention it.”
Aoife hurried to one table and then another, serving cocktails and meeting the people of the Kingdom.
The Kingdom she would help rule. Tonight was a special night of celebration.
Shadach had wanted to thank the people of the slums, to pay homage to where it had all started.
Much to the chagrin of some of Shadach’s high-brow advisors.
Apparently, it was unsightly for the Emperor to be serving others.
Shadach figured that was even more reason to do it.
“What’s with all the clay around the palace gardens lately?
” Aoife heard a voice say somewhere in the Knitting Widow.
No, not a voice. The voice of Lady Harring.
She and her husband were visiting from the Eastern Lands and she had come to the Knitting Widow tonight to show her support for the new Emperor.
Which was royalty-speak for sucking up to the new Emperor.
Aoife glanced to where Lady Harring sat with her friend, Lady Preas.
Lady Harring was wiping down every inch of the table with her handkerchief.
“I don’t know,” Lady Preas laughed, looking at the glass of her cocktail as if it was laced with disease. “Apparently the new Empress likes to create art.” The word sounded like a slur.
Aoife shuffled past their table. “Oh, I do! Thank you for noticing.”
The Ladies went as silent as death. They stared at their drinks, seeming to wish they could drown in them. Aoife laughed to herself.
“You’re positively evil.”
Aoife paused, glancing at the table just behind her. Halcin eyes and golden blond hair.
“Well,” Aoife said, “I have been learning from the best.”
Hallus’ smile was wicked as he leaned back in his chair, drinking his cocktail. He winced, pinching the bridge of his nose as he breathed through the pain.
“Too many Shadow readings?” Aoife wiped down his table.
“Yes,” he said, setting down his drink to focus on his headache. “And I’m not sure which is worse. Reading the Shadows or trying to teach others to do it.”
Aoife looked around, seeing not a single Shadow.
They were still out there, skulking about in the Kingdom, but they were avoiding the Halcin more and more these days.
Hallus was the head of a new school of sorts, trying to teach other Halcin how to build their power and read Shadows.
Rumour had it the profession of Shadow Reader was going to be very lucrative someday. What a world that was going to be.
A Kingdom of Shadows with no Shadows.
There would be pushback, of course. There were already those who claimed the Halcin reading Shadows was too much power for one person, for one group.
Not to mention the invasion of privacy. Perhaps they were wrong, perhaps they weren’t.
It was a long and complicated road that Shadach was destined to walk.
Aoife would not let him walk it alone.
“It doesn’t bother you?” Hallus said thoughtfully, tracing a pattern in the condensation on his glass. “That Shadach can read Shadows.”
“Is that a genuine question,” Aoife said, “or another attempt at driving a wedge?”
“Oh, come now,” Hallus looked at her, “I never tried to drive wedges. I just tried to get you killed.”
“Much better,” Aoife said and Hallus laughed.
“Genuine question,” he said. “You and Shadach make the whole romance thing look not awful. Maybe I’ll try it sometime.” Hallus gave a snide smile to offset the honesty of his words.
Aoife glanced at Shadach. Her heart skipped at the sight of him behind the bar, busier than he’d ever been, serving the people he cherished.
His silk tunic struggled against his chest, his finely woven trousers tight in every place she wanted them to be.
Oh, how she loved the current fashions of the Kingdom.
“It can be scary, of course.” Aoife smiled when Shadach glanced at her, his eyes drinking her in the way they had that first night.
“It’s scary having to be honest all the time.
It’s scary not being able to hide. If the Kingdom is going to be free of Shadows, somebody is going to have to read my Shadows, too, and there’s no one I’d trust with that other than Shadach.
That scares me, too. But love is scary. Doesn’t mean it’s not worth pushing past the fear. ”
“How nauseatingly poetic,” Hallus said. But there was a gentleness in his voice that made Aoife think that, years from now, she might consider Hallus to not be an awful person. Many, many years from now.
When the night turned into morning and the crowd dwindled, Aoife rounded the bar as Shadach was cleaning up.
“I’d say that was a success.” Aoife grabbed a mostly clean rag and began drying some of the freshly washed glasses.
“Not according to my advisors.” The words were dour, but Shadach’s tone was bright. “They want to kill me. Apparently the ‘other kingdoms are laughing at our ridiculousness’.”
“They can laugh all they like.” Aoife leaned over and kissed him. “There is nothing ridiculous about not being a pompous ass.”
When Aoife broke the kiss, Shadach said, “I’ll tell them that next time.”
Aoife laughed as she went to clean another glass, but Shadach wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her back to him.
“You know,” Shadach set down the cloth he’d been using to wipe down the counter, “there was something I’d meant to do in this tavern that first day, but never had the chance.” Shadach stroked his hand up her spine.
“Oh?” A whisper of a moan escaped her. “What might that be?”
Shadach’s smile was pure mischief, his eyes pure love. “This.” Shadach kissed her. Then, turning her around and pressing her against the bar, he kissed her again.
And again.
And again.
The End