Epilogue
TAVRIC
It took my sweet Lyri years to overcome her guilt over not healing everyone who might need it, but I just kept reminding her about the way the people of Eldmere had turned out.
How they had relied on her so heavily that they forgot the value of herbs and salves.
How they took their health for granted and put themselves in danger for sport.
As a compromise, she started working with the castle doctor even before we married, learning how to heal without her magic.
She had an instinct for it, and before too long, she was as proficient as her teacher.
If, on occasion, she used her magic to nudge a patient into better health, then that was all the better.
She learned to give of herself in moderation, and we were able to keep the truth of her abilities a secret.
Lyrielle was known as the healer princess, not because of her magic, but because of her compassion, empathy, intuition, and knowledge.
And it wasn’t just sickness and injury that she treated. I marveled every day at the way she saw into the soul of a person, most especially those closest to her. The way she saw my struggles and eased them without any strain or judgement was profound.
Though I no longer had the duties of my father weighing on me, I still had my own responsibilities, which increased year after year.
Soon after we married, she had asked me why I allowed so many people to clamor for my attention at once. I told her that was how my father did it, how it had always been. She’d tilted her head and said simply, “Then we can change it.”
After talking with me at length about what things specifically caused me to feel overwhelmed, she essentially trained my advisor to be a guard dog and a gatekeeper.
I dealt with only one person at a time, unless my father was absent and I had to hold a formal audience, and even then, she applied strict rules.
Only one person could address me at a time, and all spectators must remain quiet and respectful, or they would be asked to leave.
This cut down on a good portion of the drama, which then cut down on the number of people interested in watching the proceedings, in turn cutting out much of the noise and chaos.
I often had the impulse to resist her help to avoid feeling as if I were using her, but the more time I spent with her, the more I realized she loved it. Seeing a problem and finding a solution gave her peace and satisfaction—so long as those solutions weren’t demanded of her.
When I explained the way certain textures against my skin could make me uncomfortable and distracted, she herself modified my ceremonial clothing.
She ensured that the fabric touching my skin was comfortable, that everything ornamenting the cloth was sewn into place so it wouldn’t make noise, and she even sewed little sandbags into the shoulders to add a comfortable, calming weight to them.
She also made new clothing for herself, despite the dozens of dresses that had been gifted to her by my mother.
When I asked why, she cut her eyes over to me and then looked back at the material while a blush climbed her cheeks.
“If you think I have any interest in wearing clothing that you’ll be uncomfortable touching, you are greatly mistaken. ”
I was shocked for a moment, then realized that yes, the fabric she’d chosen, as well as the few embellishments, were all textures that didn’t bother me.
A lump formed in my throat even as my heart raced.
I couldn’t help but walk over, bend down, take her face in my hands, and press a gentle kiss to her mouth.
“You are brilliant,” I said after drawing back.
She just smiled, shrugged, and went back to sewing.
And as for me, I delighted in giving Lyri everything she wanted.
She accompanied me on any and all diplomatic missions so I could show her as much of the world as possible.
I reveled in teaching her every dance I knew and then hiring a dance instructor to show us even more.
I took her sailing often and we swam in the cove of the island where I’d first taught her to dance and then later taught her to swim.
I also built her her very own swing, and I put it where I could see it from the library window.
That was where she was now, swinging in the garden, reveling in an activity that she hadn’t experienced until after she’d appeared in my ocean. Her shoes and stockings had been tossed aside, and she was letting her bare toes skim the grass below her as she swung back and forth.
After several minutes of staring out at my wife, I decided it was useless to pretend I was still working, and I went down to find her. She grinned when she caught sight of me and stilled her legs, causing the swing to slow.
“I was hoping I could tempt you away from your duties,” she called out with an unrepentant smirk.
“You, my princess, are the worst and best sort of distraction.” I caught the swing and dragged it to a stop, then stepped close enough that our legs tangled together and Lyri had to tip her head back to look up at me. I kissed her smiling mouth, reveling in the calm that washed over me.
When I drew back, I smoothed my hands over her rounded belly. “How is my little one?” I asked.
“Too big, but she loves to swing.”
I felt a nudge against my hand as the baby agreed with her mother’s assessment. “Our baby is a girl today?”
Lyri’s mouth twisted to the side. “I think so. Then again, I’ve thought it was a boy plenty of times.” She looked down at her rounded midsection. “I keep being certain I’m right, but then a few days later…”
I chuckled. “I know, darling. I think you’re just impatient.”
“I want to hold her,” she whispered. “I want her to fall asleep on my chest. I want to feel her warmth and weight curled against me.”
“We will,” I assured her. “Soon enough we will.” I stepped back and took her hands, pulling her to her feet. “Until then,” I said as I wrapped my arms around her, “I will take all the chances I can to hold you.”
She immediately relaxed into me and let out a sigh. “That sounds lovely.”
I rested my head on top of her head and let my eyes drift closed. “The loveliest.”
The End