Epilogue
Elsedora
Ayear had passed since we defended the realms from Caym’s final strike. We’d only begun to heal, and the scars would never leave us.
None of us had believed it was over.
We’d waited for the wail of Morai, or for a new envoy to surface.
None had.
With no divine place for Caym to cling to, he could not rise again. The Source power in our veins hummed on, an eternal gift from the Origins, but they did not interfere again.
I supposed we deserved an era of peace after so much war, blood, and turmoil. We’d kept busy—rebuilding the Corridors, with cooperative leadership from all rulers.
“Pass the potatoes, dear,” Angeline said, interrupting my thought.
The cottage’s kitchen table barely accommodated the four of us, but Emmerick’s mother insisted on hosting us here every week, anyway. The tension in Em’s shoulders always melted away at the doorstep.
Emmerick lifted the bowl and handed it to his mother.
“Is there room for one more?” A soft voice carried from the doorway. Amara stood there with a basket of wine and cheese.
“My dear, yes! Come sit.” Angeline waved her into the room.
“I’ll take the stool,” Emmerick said, offering up his chair to Amara and taking the basket to the butcher block so she could settle in.
“How is our grandson?” Angeline asked. She was always eager to hear the latest palace gossip, and I knew she really meant Has King Darvanda killed Dritan yet? Is there news of great-grandbabies?
While Sybilla had warmed to the idea of Lark’s marriage, Krait still regularly shot daggers at the boy with his stare.
Krait could do nothing about it—his daughter was over the moon in love, and together the young lovebirds would inherit two kingdoms. So my dear, grumpy friend had no choice but to accept it.
I stifled a laugh. “He lives another day.”
With Caym’s curse broken, Krait’s immortality had returned along with his Shadows. He and Sybilla had bound their lives to one another. He would age on; he’d given up eternal life to find whatever came next with her and to never have to live a day without her.
I knew that, despite his grumbling, Krait was happy for Lark to have a partner who would be there for her when she lost the both of them.
We sat with our shoulders and elbows bumping around our meal—a mouthwatering, decadent culinary experience, as always.
Emmerick tipped his chair back on two legs, stretching. “He’s caught on quicker than I ever had hopes of,” Emmerick added. “Elsedora has been an incredible mentor.”
My cheeks heated. Something about Em’s praise never ceased to warm me.
Leo smiled. “Well, next time you see him, let him know I could use some help to turn over the garden beds for spring.”
“I’ll be here tomorrow,” someone else called from the doorway. Dritan’s fingers were laced with Lark’s as he tugged her into the crowded cottage. “Room for two more?”
There wasn’t. But we always made it work.
We shuffled about to find makeshift seating for everyone.
“Not too long now and there will be… one more to seat,” Lark squeaked out with a smile. I gasped in delight as her meaning dawned on me.
It took her rubbing her stomach once for Emmerick to understand, and when he did, the stool toppled over beneath him as he rose to embrace them.
Em and I walked hand in hand down the hallway of a thousand doors, from the Egress.
“You think Dritan’s ready to take on more in Helos?” Emmerick asked me.
I smirked. “Do you doubt my ability to be an excellent advisor?”
“I never doubt you. But… it won’t be too much pressure for Dritan with news of an heir on the way?” he pressed.
“He is young and driven, and has the help of all of us. He’s doing well—they both are. What are you so concerned about, puppy?”
His brow quirked up before he lifted me off my feet. I squeaked and wrapped myself around him as he carried me to the parlor. I had a sneaking suspicion he was avoiding something and was trying to distract me.
“I’m not worried,” he answered, lowering me down by the blazing fire onto a pile of furs and blankets that the estate had set up for us. It recognized our habits.
On the fireplace mantel, tiny trinkets from Fen and Asterie’s travels lined the shelf, mixed with Emmerick’s collection of wood carvings from Leo. I loved seeing our lives mingle in such a simple way—loved the things that he held dear in my space.
The painting Angeline had gifted me of the orchard hung just above the shelf.
This little life I’d rebuilt with him, these quiet memories, I’d go through it all again to get here.
The intense way Em eyed my lips had my core tightening in anticipation as his knee pressed between my legs, and I opened for him with a small whimper of impatience.
Most things had slowed down—but my insatiable need for him had only barreled on. I craved him inside of me. Quickly. Now.
“What does my wildflower have planned for this evening?” he asked, leaning down to trail kisses from my earlobe to my collarbone.
I contemplated where I’d like him to take me… We were running low on new surfaces in the estate.
“Something that requires we get out of these heavy clothes,” I huffed in the most sultry tone I could manage with a full stomach.
He muffled a laugh into my neck. “Well, good. I had the same idea, but we have something important to discuss first.”
I stiffened below him, and my eyes shot open to meet his. Propped up on my elbows, with him hovering just inches over me, I nearly lost focus.
A year had passed, yet my love for him hadn’t waned. Instead, it had snowballed into something unruly and terrifyingly perfect.
“Is everything alright?” I asked.
He smiled down at me with nothing but softness. “It’s never been better. But...”
Why did there need to be a ‘but’? I stopped breathing.
“The constant back-and-forth between here and Helos is tiring me—I’d really love to just sleep in one bed.”
I frowned. “Oh,” I whispered.
Had it taken him only a year to tire of me?
The nights he spent away were all but torture. When Helos demanded his presence, I often woke on his side of the bed, longing for his arms around me.
“I don’t like that look,” he said as he planted a gentle kiss on one of my frown lines.
“It’s alright if you don’t visit here as frequently. I understand. You have a Corridor to lead.” I shifted, wanting to wiggle out from beneath him and avoid meeting his gaze again.
Some things did not change—running felt easier than facing his rejection. But now, I stayed long enough to listen.
He lacked gentleness when he pinned my hips to the cushioned ground with his and balanced on one forearm, turning my chin to look at him.
“Where are you going? Have you hit your head again? That’s not at all what I mean. I want to stay here… with you. This feels like home, Elsedora.”
My muscles all but melted into the furs. I breathed out a sigh and swallowed hard.
Home.
I’d spent so long searching for that feeling. Even after repairing the ruins of Lamoreaux, I hadn’t felt entirely settled. His affections, his care, his loyalty, they gave me roots. It made me want to be more for him than I’d been for any other.
Emmerick rambled on, “I spoke to Dritan—he feels that between your advising and Lark’s alliances, he would wear the crown well.
Relations are strong with the rulers, especially with Hurley and Regon marrying.
There isn’t a heaping mess for me to clean up any longer.
I never wanted that throne or that castle. What I want is right here.”
My throat burned and my hands shook as I cupped his face.
Lamoreaux had always been a safe place for those who felt lost. But knowing that he found a sense of belonging among the orchards filled me with more joy than I could put into words.
His brow creased. “So… will you have me here? I can’t very well move in without your consent, so please say something.”
“I’ll have you anywhere.” I pulled him down, ready to devour him. Before I did, I whispered between us, “Welcome home, my love.”