58 #2
Two icons who rose above their losses. Two strong leaders who thrived against all odds.
I wheeled back toward the wood pile. Midway, my eyes landed on a pair of blue ones.
While patrolling one of the lookout points across from my level, Aire riveted his gaze on me. A fitted vest exposed the knight’s toned biceps, his broadswords rested at his back, and a hawk settled on his bare shoulder.
He stood there like a descendent of the sky. Hovering over everyone. Keeping them safe. The scion of an ancient sylph.
Savior. Defender.
Wistfulness stretched across the knight’s features, those irises as lacquered as a midnight sky, the pupils blazing like celestials. Heat scorched my flesh. Like a gust of sweltering wind, his attention stirred the blood in my veins.
A feminine throat cleared. I whirled toward Briar, who stood two paces away, threading both hands in front of her.
A caramel velvet coat hugged her straight frame, scalloped walnut trim edged the collar and fitted sleeves, and walnut brown leather pants sank into high matching boots.
She resembled Autumn itself, with that lustrous red hair plaited amid a strand of gold leaves.
The princess must have finished talking with her mother. Linking our arms together, Briar graced me with an empathetic expression. “Take a turn with me.”
Not a request. Not from this paragon.
More than warranted. Obeying her every command was the least I owed this woman, whom I had idolized since childhood.
I harnessed my axe. As we strolled from the timbers, the brush of Aire’s gaze pursued us, the sensation lingering like a caress as we fell out of range. Always, a part of me stayed behind with him too.
Crossing a gangway in silence, the princess and I admired the legendary setting. Leaves rained from the boughs. A group of stags with gilded antlers promenaded along the creek.
On an abutting bridge, Eliot combatted with Poet, the minstrel’s garrote lashing against the jester’s blades.
The narrow planks challenged their balance as the men trained thirty feet above the earth like gods, their chiseled torsos glistening with sweat.
In between blows, the men’s wicked banter carried across the enclave.
While spinning a pair of knives between his fingers, the jester caught his wife’s eye, their connection intrinsic, the temperature hot enough to break a thermometer. Briar’s complexion piqued as if someone had injected lava into her veins, the blush enhancing her freckles.
I’d seen this exchange more times than I could count. No more restrained than Jeryn and Flare, the jester and princess would be fucking within the hour.
There was a time when I hadn’t identified with this innate tension. The erotic buzz. The atmospheric charge. The unspoken promises of sensuous things to come. But now I knew that experience to the point of agony.
After a prolonged lapse of eye-fucking, Poet seethed like a pissed-off feline when Eliot took the initiative, cuffing the jester in the ribs. We chuckled as the men launched into another bout.
At another vista point, Posy and Vale stood guard. Whereas Cadence and Nicu swept brooms over the cabin stoops, the lady’s presence diverting his attention from a certain disheveled alchemist.
The domestic sights warmed my chest. Isolated from the court, with our fellowship laboring on simple tasks, it became a different kind of home. A new sort of castle.
With her free arm, Briar reached out to a tree that caressed her fingers like an old friend.
Next, the bough shifted direction, extending to the strand of leaves in her braid, tracing it tenderly.
This must be the tree that gifted her the foliage while she lived out her banishment.
The same species where she left a note her son would eventually find.
“I remember this place vividly,” Briar shared, grinning at the branch as it retracted from her hair. “Fairytales are often ghastly. But in our nation, some of those tales inspire hope and wisdom, as well as redemption.”
The word redemption gripped me in a chokehold. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
“And yet you have it.” Releasing my arm, she wheeled to face me.
“If the public knew what you did, they would demand your execution. But then, I’m not a princess who does what others expect.
Nor is my mother or the rest of our clan.
We decided together on this matter and unanimously chose not to convict you. ”
“I plan on apologizing to them until I lose my voice,” I promised. “I should have told everyone from the beginning.”
“Yes, you should have. Trusting you again will take time, but we’re willing.” Briar stepped closer. “We each have our flaws and errors of judgement. That’s what strengthens us as a unit.” Then she took my hands in her own. “As a family.”
Family. The confirmation tethered around my heart.
“So long as we’re honest,” the princess stressed. “You’re as much kin as anyone here. We cannot do without you. Please, do not lie to us again.”
“Never,” I agreed, my voice breaking. “I love you, princess.”
Briar’s eyes glistened as she traced a foliage marking on my skin. “I love you too, Aspen of Autumn.”
The canopy dappled us in a prism of colors. After a moment, Briar rounded her pragmatic shoulders. “Onward now.”
***
We retraced our route. Like The Phantom Wild in Summer, this enclave welcomed each of us. Maybe it sensed kindreds. Nicu, Briar, and Flare would certainly put it that way.
Aire too.
Our clan had discovered historic signs of a diverse community here.
Ages ago, the enclave accepted all people, as long as they respected their environment.
Like Jeryn and Flare’s rainforest ruins, this proved nature wasn’t biased.
It treated everyone with impartiality, regardless of whether they had conditions like Nicu, Jeryn, or Mama.
Spring showed indications of this as well, thanks to Eliot, Cadence, Posy, and Vale. As ambassadors to their former Season, they discovered evidence of the same historic diversity in the Wildflower Forest while visiting Nicu’s grandmother, Jinny.
As for Winter, maybe a similar place lay hidden somewhere. Thinking of that nation returned me to Lyrik. Aside from the pulsating lanterns, no other remnants of the alchemist remained. He’d packed all his brews, leaving his chamber empty.
After Nicu’s final moments with the rogue, he and his parents ensconced themselves in his cabin for a private reunion, along with the queen.
Even so, Briar surveyed Nicu from across the divide, like Poet had been routinely doing.
Although their son tried to contain it from them, they knew their child.
Same as Avalea, the jester and princess sensed something was wrong, if not the particulars or parties involved.
I wanted to help, to shed light on the issue, but it wasn’t my place or Aire’s.
Likewise, it wasn’t on Poet or Briar’s agenda to ask. They made it no secret to Nicu, how they were always there to listen. But the lad needed to make his own decisions about what to confide or hold back. Until he felt ready, the pair simply waited for their son to approach them.
“He never meant to put you through all that worry,” I insisted. “Nicu adores you both more than anything.”
While Nicu swept alongside Cadence, unequivocal devotion claimed Briar’s profile.
“Poet and I still think of him as our little fae boy. We have a history of protecting him and will never stop. But he’s fully grown and responsible for his choices.
That’s his right. It’s what we’ve been fighting for.
” She swallowed. “For him to lead his own free life.”
Amusement brightened her features. “And it’s no wonder, he inherited rebellion from us.”
We laughed in spite of ourselves. When the mirth ebbed, Briar returned her attention to me. “What you did to keep your mother safe. The risk you took. I would have done the same for anyone I love. Poet would as well.” Her eyebrows arched. “And Aire.”
My pulse thudded. “He always has.”
With my crimes forgiven and the premonition at rest, nothing stood in our way. Yet despite that passionate hour in the chapel shrine, when Aire knighted and fucked me until I shouted, we hadn’t broached the subject of where things went from here.
Briar assessed my features. Sensing my apprehension, the princess urged, “I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.
And I daresay the same in your case. Sometimes, there’s no solid plan in the beginning.
Sometimes, you have to leap first. Love isn’t about guarantees; it’s about trust.”
A grateful smile wreathed across my lips. We savored this moment, with our hands clasping.
“Youuu-whooo!” a woman sang in a naughty tenor.
Three figures skipped into view. Posy, Vale, and Cadence came bearing apples. The latter must have parted ways with Nicu, because he now sat with Avalea on the bench, the queen murmuring privately with him.
Cadence munched on her fruit and spoke around a mouthful. “Snack break. Time for gossip. What are we talking about?”
“That’s code for tell us every filthy spy-smut detail about this mission,” Posy chirped. “Now that we’re no longer hating on you for the betrayal, questions abound.”
Vale wiped her palms in anticipatory glee. “Compared to wielding his swords, does Aire have as much endurance with other parts of his anatomy?”
Cadence went for a blunter angle. “Is his cock just as long as—”
“Do not ask that,” Briar commanded them with a scowl, then to me, “And do not answer.”
Like an enabler, I smirked. Shyness wasn’t my forte, but I would spare Briar the headache and oblige these ladies later. At least, to an extent. Aire was private about us, and I felt the same.
But then, the First Knight wouldn’t expect any different with these Spring females, given their habit of grilling members of this clan about their sexual exploits.
They did the same to Jeryn and Flare after those two survived their shipwreck, to say nothing of the tidbits they eventually got out of Briar about Poet’s immortal bedroom skills.
Nonetheless, Posy and Vale pouted with mirth.
Cadence sulked, “Booooo.”
Their reactions wrangled a chuckle from Briar. “As to the real matter, I was about to impress something important upon Aspen.”
“Ohh,” Posy gasped. “Our princess is making her Scheming Face.”
“We like that one,” Vale agreed. “Tell us it involves breaking more laws.”
“And balls,” Cadence petitioned. “Preferably Summer’s.”
“Pointless.” I shrugged. “He doesn’t have any.”
“Let us make certain of that.” With the flair of a conspirator, the princess spun my way, and the ladies crowded in. “The upgrade you gave to your axe,” she prompted. “The customization to Nicu’s knife, and the weapons you rendered faulty from the battle.”
I recalled my handiwork in every project. “What about them?”
“Mother, Poet, and I have been conversing. Since you’re well-acquainted with the castle armory—in addition to certain ancient weapons in the relic vault, which we’ll disregard for the time being—we’ve wanted to make a proposition for a while.
However, we were never sure if it was the right time until now.
” Briar tapped her chin. “If I asked you to draft weapons using the same resources and skills, would you accept the proposal?”
“Hell yes!” Cadence snapped her fingers. “I want a piece of that!”
“Me too,” Posy squealed. “A custom knife. But can you make mine sparkle in the dark?”
Vale strapped her arms around Posy’s waist. “We’ll get to that, my love. The princess hadn’t finished her point.”
“Which is?” I wondered.
Ambition gleamed across Briar’s face. “Design weapons for us that shall win a war.”