Chapter Twenty-Six
EMYR
The guard dining halls aren’t the place for a prince, but no one thinks twice when I slide into a chair across from Tibalt. This is one of his rare moments of alone time, and he has no duty to me, but I’m not here as a prince. I’m here as a friend.
“I require your assistance.” It’s not the first time I’ve gone to Tibalt for help, and I’m positive it won’t be the last.
He looks up from his plate and lifts a brow, saying nothing as he takes a large bite of a chicken leg.
“Well?” I press. “Will you ask what I need help with?”
He grunts, and his fork clatters onto the plate. “Shouldn’t you be busy with your new betrothed?”
“Why do you sound as though you are jealous? If you’d wished to marry me, we could have. I waited years for you to ask me.”
He glares. “This is precisely why I won’t marry you. You are a cursed fool, and entirely too high-maintenance for my taste.”
“That is too bad.” My lip tugs up at the corner. “I did come here to speak about her, if that gives you any hints, for you see… she is technically not my betrothed. Not yet.” I clear my throat. “I’ve yet to ask her.”
“And why haven’t you?” Tibalt crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “Ophelia is too good for you. You’d better ask her before she finds something more worthwhile to do with her time.”
Tibalt jests, but he plucks at my insecurities as only a best friend can.
“I’m sure you are right.” I look down at the table and smile. My fingers twist together. “That’s why I need your help.”
OPHELIA
It had not been nearly so intimate last time we were in a carriage. That ride ended horribly, and I can only hope it will not now. Our life is moving down a better path, and soon we will break the curse.
There is a buzz of excitement that I have not allowed myself to feel in some time…
Since before the death of my father.
Being thrilled about life was difficult when my stepmother was sapping the energy from me.
It’s not necessarily Emyr who made my spark return; it is that I am free.
Watching the wind whip through Emyr’s striking hair makes me feel especially liberated.
He sits across from me, farther away than I would like, and I can’t help but smile.
“How much longer will it be?” I ask. “You know how I am during carriage rides.”
He smiles mischievously and looks away. “Don’t fret, my love. This one won’t be long at all.”
I already know Emyr will tell me nothing. He has been surprisingly quiet since we departed, telling me only that he has a surprise for me.
Tibalt still joins us, but he’s driving the carriage now, no longer seated by our side.
There’s comfort in having him around. While I don’t blame Emyr for running, I won’t be foolish enough to forget that he ran when we were in danger.
Tibalt, on the other hand, was confident in the face of a curse.
“It’s just up this way.” Emyr is antsy, shifting in his seat, and I can’t understand why.
We enter a perfectly normal town, and the carriage stops outside an unassuming shop, one without a sign, but otherwise it’s an ordinary place, made of brown wood. The darkened windows are the most mysterious thing about it.
I lift a brow at Emyr. “What is it? More books?”
He scoffs. “There’s more to me than books.”
“I’ve yet to see proof of that.” I smile slyly as I slide from the carriage, taking Tibalt’s offered hand.
“Patience.” Emyr runs from the carriage and meets me on the other side, quickly replacing Tibalt’s hand with his own and leading me into the shop.
The inside is not what I expected. Despite Emyr’s claims, I imagined I would find books or the trinkets that are scattered around his bedchamber. What greets me is nothing like what I expected.
Tall, silver mirrors surround the shop, each with a different story. Some are filled with blue sparkling liquid, with no story to tell. Others show moving imagery—a field of daisies, or a bustling town.
“Are these… portals?” I breathe.
I’ve seen Isa use her portal magic a few times, and even stepped through a portal myself, but being in a room full of sparkling magic is awe-inspiring. The magic pulls at my heart, urging me to climb inside.
“Yes,” Emyr says. “But this isn’t our final destination.”
“I can learn to make these?” I turn to face him, my heart thumping erratically. There would be nothing more freeing than escaping whenever and wherever I please.
“This form of magic takes years of practice and an abundance of energy, but yes.” He touches a stray tendril of my hair and tucks it behind my pointed ear. “You can learn. Would you like to go somewhere with me today?”
“Yes.” After a moment of consideration, I add, “Will Tibalt join us?”
“Of course. I never go anywhere without him.”
That’s untrue. Even now, I think of when Emyr ran away from us—and the fear that gripped me after. He was without Tibalt then. Anything could have happened.
But it didn’t. That’s what I must focus on.
“He would die without me,” Tibalt drones.
“I’m well aware.” I laugh along with Tibalt.
Emyr doesn’t. His expression is unmoving as he scurries off to speak to an employee, presumably setting up a portal for us. A large mirror, bigger than even Tibalt, is rolled to the middle of the shop.
I tilt my chin, my lips parting as I take in the sight.
The mirror holds a city of purple-winged fae and a large, sparkling white palace with the moon etched in stone. A feeling of home settles over me. Gentle. Comforting. Safe.
This must be the Moon Palace.
Emyr takes my hand and tugs me to the portal, saying nothing as we enter. Tibalt follows behind us, but even his presence does little to calm the anxiety and eagerness rushing through me. My stomach rolls, my body light and tingling, as we’re spat out into the city.
Traveling by portal is easier now than it was before.
“Welcome to the moon palace,” Emyr says.
This is where my mother is from.
My eyes fill with tears. I step onto the marbled ground, my shoes clicking against smooth lavender-and-white checkered stone. “I’ve never seen a place so beautiful.”
Tiny pixies float around, resting in trees, while the high fae do their normal activities.
The flowers sing and hum, swaying in the sea-soaked breeze.
Not flowers—common fae with dozens of blinking eyes on the petals.
These fae are unlike any I’ve ever seen, and I’ve never seen so many of them.
I suppose it’s the same as the Mercury Palace, but life there was more organized. This is pure flow.
“Was the Sun Palace once like this?” I ask.
“Yes,” Emyr says. “Our populations have dwindled because of the curse, but my parents say we once had just as many fae. Including these flowers.”
I frown. “How tragic.
“Forget the tragedies, dear Ophelia—just for a day.” Emyr’s expression is animated. He walks with a jump in his step, which I so rarely see. The sun shines onto his skin and radiates from him. “Have you ever been to a beach?”
I shake my head, letting him lead me along a sandy path. “No. Never. My village was landlocked.”
“We have a beach of our own, but it’s nothing compared to this. Perhaps someday, it will be.”
He’s right. Nothing in the Sun Palace can compare to purple sand, fat clouds, and the sea salt air pushing my hair around my face. I didn’t dress for the beach, but it doesn’t matter. I leave my shoes behind and lift my skirt, digging my feet into the sand.
I can feel Emyr’s watchful eye as I pick up speed and run.
He’s behind me, but I pay him no mind, running so far that the cool water tickles my toes.
I let out a shocked gasp that transforms into a laugh.
This is the beauty my mother grew up with, and it is what we can build in the Sun Palace.
Emyr said so. I’ll be the one to make it so—I will do anything.
I turn to Emyr with tears of joy pricking at the corners of my eyes, only to find him closer than I expected. A mere foot away.
My lips part.
Emyr is on one knee. His trousers are a mess with sand and water, but he’s as beautiful as the day I met him.
No, he’s more attractive, with the sun kissing his bright eyes.
He’s a reflection of the morning sky. The waves rush over him, a few inches of sea salt soaking him right up, but his posture is tall and proud from his position below, with a purple velvet box in his hand.
He opens the box, and my tears flow. My breath hitches. Am I ready for what is to come? This is happening so quickly—but we need it. I need him. I want him. I want a life of freedom, for us and his kingdom. This is the only thing that can bring it.
Words escape me, but it doesn’t matter. It’s his turn to speak.
“I would have done more,” he says, just loud enough for me to hear him over the fierce breeze.
“This isn’t enough for you. I wish to give you the world, and I wish our world were softer.
You’ve been through great difficulty and deserve a cushioned, kind life.
I will do whatever is necessary to give that to you. ”
“Emyr…” My voice shakes. An answer is poised on my tongue, but I don’t dare say it when he’s yet to ask the question.
In the box is a ring with a silver band, decorated with a large amethyst and several smaller clear stones. He hasn’t finished speaking yet, but I nod, knowing what will come next.
“It should have been you all along,” he says. “This may seem fast, but in my eyes it is overdue. Will you marry me?”
Freedom. Emyr’s palace has granted me freedom from my wretched family. And now, I will bring them freedom. It’s only fair.
“Yes!” I launch myself at him, pressing my lips fiercely to his. We’re both on the ground, with the waves licking our bodies. He slips the ring onto my finger without breaking the kiss.
In this moment, the curse does not exist. All is well.
EMYR