Epilogue Kadra
Fifth day of the Month of Moons, Spring Equinox
Rebuilding a country could be a thankless endeavor at times, Kadra mused after a second round of Guild elections.
The past week had seen an exacting inquiry into Guild practices and accounting.
Several Guildmasters had subsequently been forced to step down for assorted crimes.
The subsequent intra-Guild elections were a logistical nightmare given the Tetrarchy’s final mandates that Guilds supplying a resource that was primarily sourced from the north had to be comprised of a majority of northerners.
He wasn’t fond of supervising them, but north-south relations weren’t yet improved to the point where he could let the parties negotiate on their own.
Some would see that they had more in common than they didn’t. Some wouldn’t. Life went on.
The Tetrarchy hadn’t.
He dismounted outside Aoran Tower, pace quickening as he unlocked the gates, knowing that she was home.
“Good evening, Councilor Kadra,” a student passing by squeaked.
He inclined his head. “Good evening.”
The two girls exchanged startled glances for a fraction of a second and scurried off.
“He’s scary!” he heard them whisper when they thought they were out of earshot.
He was still fearsome, it seemed.
“Scary,” Sarai repeated with amusement when he entered. “Quite the reputation, Councilor Kadra.”
He pulled the gates shut behind him and lifted her into his arms. “Good evening, love.”
She kissed him sweetly. “Long day?”
“The Guilds are imploding,” he said dryly. “How was Noceo’s trial?”
There would have been voices on the new Council of Ur Dinyé to see that justice was done.
Cassandane’s final act as Head Tetrarch had been to dissolve the Tetrarchy in favor of a council that represented north and south interests.
What had followed had been the fastest election period Kadra had witnessed.
The people had known who they had wanted.
Bridgers had facilitated easy access to ballots, and Harion had nearly given himself an aneurysm by campaigning in every town and village across Ur Dinyé.
He had been elected, to Kadra’s immense displeasure, which had firmed his resolve to improve wide-scale electoral education.
The people simply shouldn’t be electing fools.
Kadra had retained his former seat, as had Cassandane as Head Councilor of the South. Florus was a welcome addition as Head Councilor of the North in addition to a Praetor and a military Tribune. And the northern vigiles were finally allowing women and neutralii in like their southern counterparts.
“The Council was unanimous on the mines being the best course,” Sarai said as they entered his study.
He nodded. “Duration?”
“The Council agreed that it’ll take a great deal to blot out all the harm he’s done.” A sad smile bloomed on Sarai’s face. “Twenty-five years.”
A fair ending. “He has a long road ahead.”
“So do we.”
He raised an inquiring brow, shrugging off his robes.
“I have plans,” she informed him.
“Is that right?” He stalked toward her.
“We have to travel, Kadra. It’s simply nonnegotiable.” She perched atop his desk, grinning when he caged her. “We’re both far too entrenched in work. It isn’t sustainable, and—”
“Yes,” he said firmly, nuzzling her jaw. “To all of it.”
She grinned. “I hope you don’t regret that when I drag you to Errigal or try to import your Clan’s Hall of Relics here. Telmar’s already salivating,” she confided.
He watched her speak, smile growing wider before he brought his mouth to her ear. “I love you.” He never tired of the stars in her eyes when he said it.
Flushing in surprise, she kissed his jaw. “And I’m getting better with a blade, so I can at least attempt to be your equal there.”
“You’ll surpass me in a month,” he murmured. “I’ll be relegated to wiping dishes.”
She winked. “I can think of more useful tasks.”
“That, my dear, is never a task.” His mouth found hers, and there were no words spoken for long moments.
A sharp rap on his tablinum door had him raising his head, dazed with hunger.
“I’m not coming in, because I fancy keeping my eyes in their sockets,” Anek yelled from the other side. “But you’re late!”
He had almost forgotten. A rarity for him, but he would forget most things with Sarai in his arms. Putting her to rights, they left Aoran Tower where Anek gave them a narrow-eyed glance before riding with them to a tavern.
Not content with retirement, Cato had opened a tavern by the Hall of Records.
At the end of every week, they would all gather here and enjoy a meal.
Friends—he took in Gaius’s delight at being included, Anek, and Cassandane.
Allies—Florus, who drank almost as much as Kadra once had.
Nuisances—Harion opening his mouth to argue that the wine could be stronger and shutting it when Anek threatened to pour it over his head.
Family—Cato and the woman beside him, who had forever altered his life the day she had asked him for directions into the Academiae at fourteen.
His heart was full.
The days would pass like this. Some longer, some bloodier, some more beautiful than he had believed he would see, until their names passed from life and history.
But here and now, she was Sarai of Arsamea, Petitor, strategist, and beloved.
And he, who held a country in the palm of his hand, knew she was his land and his home, and he was hers.
Taking his hand, she tilted her head toward Cato, who was listening to Telmar with rapt attention as though he were telling him the secrets of the Elsar and not about his new position as an archivist at the Hall of Records.
Kadra’s brows rose, and Sarai beamed up at him with a distinct “I told you so” in her eyes.
Her expression altered upon Harion saying something about the date, then turned incredulous.
“It’s the spring equinox,” she said with wonder. “Kadra, it’s been a year since my Robing!” She laughed. “Gods, I was furious with you back then.”
“I recall,” he said dryly. “The Petitor and the monster.”
“No.” She took his face between her shaky fingers. “Two sides of the same blade.”
Wordless, he traced her face when Anek waved a hand.
“Alright, enough of that you two. There are children here!” they pointed at an irate Harion, who choked on his wine trying to sputter out a retort.
Kadra took it all in, the ribbing, the laughter, the love in Sarai’s eyes when she looked up at him.
It was enough. It would always be enough.
And the most beloved judge in Ur Dinyé smiled back.
THE END