by Elly Blake
A sunny grin broke out on his face as his arm came around me. “That is good news, then.” He nodded his thanks at the queen, then bent his head, catching my eyes with many shades of warmest ice. “To be clear, that will be a very long time.”
“Yes, I think it might,” I said, grinning back.
Kai looked back and forth at us. “I know I missed something here.”
“Yes, Kai,” I said without looking at him. “You missed the small fact that you’re now heir to the Sudesian throne.” I turned to him with a grin. “I bet you can’t wait until I have to refer to you as His Majesty, the Fire King.”
EPILOGUE
I OFFERED MY HAND TO THE FIRE.
Sparks leaped from the hearth and settled onto my fingers, heat drawn to heat, and glittered like molten gems against my skin. I twisted my wrist back and forth, watching as the glowing embers pulsed in tune with my heartbeat.
“Princess Ruby?”
The door eased open a crack, and a pair of brown eyes blinked owlishly in the gap. Light spilled from the corridor, highlighting the room’s shabby, ancient furniture and almost-as-ancient layer of dust. I’d chosen an out-of-the-way sitting room in the oldest part of the castle because it was neglected and all but forgotten. And because it had a fireplace.
“Come in and close the door!” I whispered, beckoning to Doreena. The sparks on my hand flared with the movement, then winked out. “You look lovely,” I said as I took note of her coral ball gown. “That color suits you.”
“Thank you,” she said with a blush, her confused gaze honing in on my raised hands. “What are you doing?”
I grinned, dusting my fingers together to make sure the sparks were out. “Testing a theory. Never mind. You look slightly desperate. What’s wrong?”
She made an abrupt gesture toward the door. “You’re late! The court is all assembled. The stands are full. King Arkanus is getting impatient, to put it mildly.”
Groaning, I jumped to my feet. “I lost track of time. How upset is he? Is that little muscle ticking in his jaw?”
“I didn’t look… but I suspect so.”
I took a step forward and a lock of my hair escaped its pins, tumbling defiantly against my cheek. Drat! They had warned me not to move too much but of course I hadn’t listened. It was an elaborate coiffure, smooth on top but braided and curled and coiled at the back, the main bulk held aloft by several dozen hairpins. Smoky ringlets softened my temples and nape. I fussed with the fugitive lock for a second before Doreena darted forward and dashed my hand away.
“You’re making it worse!” she chided.
I held dutifully still as she repaired the damage. She was no longer my lady’s maid since she was now employed in the castle infirmary, but apparently she couldn’t resist applying her skills when I was so obviously in need.
“All these hairpins,” I muttered, wincing as she pushed a couple back into place. “I feel like a hedgehog is nesting on my head.”
“If it is, no one will see it under all that hair.” She smiled and patted the sides of the monstrosity to make sure it hadn’t listed to port or starboard. Then, with a last measuring look, she stepped back and gave the rest of me a critical once-over, gasping when her eyes fell on my skirt. “What did you do?”
I glanced down to see tiny, black-edged holes burned into the fabric of my ivory silk gown. I scrunched up my face. The royal seamstress was going to murder me. Probably in some creative way involving pins and scissors. Batting at my skirt did nothing to help the situation. I gave Doreena a desperate look. “Do you think I have time to change?”
Her eyes grew even bigger. “Now? No! Everyone is waiting!”
“Then I suppose I’ll have to brazen it out.” It wouldn’t be the first time.
I grabbed fistfuls of gown and hustled after her through the icy corridors. The castle was practically empty, but whenever we crossed paths with someone, I slowed to a dignified walk and gave a single nod accompanied by a hint of a smile, as if I were taking a leisurely stroll and not galloping in a frenzied rush, late for my own coronation.
When we reached the outer castle doors, a contingent of waiting guards snapped to attention and accompanied us toward the arena. We moved at a blistering pace considering my stride was hampered by layers of linen and silk. The excited murmur of a massive crowd grew louder as we passed through a side door leading into the familiar alcove. More guards lined the walls, vigilantly protecting me from any possible threat. A red carpet ran all the way from inside the alcove to the dais in the arena proper. Velvety fuchsia petals from blooms imported from Sudesia were strewn at the edges, giving off a tropical scent.
It wouldn’t have been my choice of venue, but the arena was the only space large enough to accommodate all the spectators, from courtiers to commoners, who were eager to watch the crowning of a new queen for the first time in over two decades. Arcus’s mother, a highborn Frostblood lady from an old and respected family, had been the last.
And now it would be me.
Arcus had said it would be a fitting place to celebrate the start of a new era—to underscore the death of old customs and the birth of new ones. At the moment I thought it might be a fitting place to faint.
I halted in the doorway. “I’m going to be sick,” I whispered to Doreena.
“Don’t be silly!” She leaned over to peek through the opening. “Everyone is here to support you.”
“Oh yes, I’m sure.” My tone was as arid as my suddenly dry mouth. “They all adore me. They’re desperately hoping I succeed as queen.”
“You don’t know that they aren’t! Anyway, they were checked for weapons on their way in.”
My lips tightened to hide a smile at her version of comfort. “Thank you, Doreena.”
Her mention of weapons reminded me that I’d faced actual swords, ice arrows, wild animals, and foes determined to kill me in this very arena. If I could survive that, I could surely survive having a crown placed on my head—a crown that would give me power and security beyond anything I’d ever had. Not to mention the fact that it gave me the right to live and work alongside the person I loved most in the world. My anxiety melted away, leaving only the desire to get this done.
Brother Thistle appeared in the alcove, a little winded, as if he’d been hurrying. He was dressed in white velvet robes with braided silver trim. His face wore an expression of stark relief for a second before he wrestled himself back into stoic placidity.
“We had people looking all over for you,” he said in a low voice, leaning on his cane as he caught his breath.
“Sorry. I wasn’t easy to find,” I admitted.
“I hope you had no fears for your safety, Miss Otrera—Your Highness. I have instructed my informers to listen for any news about the Blue Legion or the Servants. Every report says they disbanded after the execution of their leaders. I can assure you with great relief that they are no longer a threat.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at him. “But I wasn’t worried. I just had something to do.”
“Something more important than this?” He raised his thick brows.
I resisted the urge to cover the burn marks on my gown. “Maybe.”
He shook his head with amused tolerance and offered his arm. “Are you ready, Your Highness?”
“I’d better be. It’s too late to turn back now, isn’t it?”
“Far too late,” he assured me with a twinkle in his eye.
After taking a breath and straightening my shoulders, I put my hand on his arm. We stepped from the archway and started our slow and stately promenade along the endless red carpet. I didn’t look at the crowd, not wanting to catch anyone in the suddenly silent masses scowling or glaring, though they were too far away to see clearly. Instead, I stared straight ahead and took slow, measured steps. One, two, three. Easy. Nothing to fear. I could do this all day.
A few feet from the dais, I slipped on a patch of ice.
Brother Thistle steadied me with his arm, and we continued on. I h
oped my stumble was small enough to be hidden by my voluminous skirts.
“Is someone trying to kill me?” I whispered in an aside.
He chuckled. “Not at all. The frost is a result of the king’s state of mind.” He nodded toward the dais. “He was very upset when no one could find you.”
Uh-oh. My eyes snapped to where Arcus stood with perfect stillness next to an ornate gilded throne sent by Queen Nalani as a show of affection and goodwill. She wasn’t present, having returned to Sere after the battle on the Isle of Night five months before, but her emissary and heir, Prince Kai, was here to represent her. I did a quick search and spotted him standing at the front of the area reserved for visiting dignitaries. His crimson doublet was tailored to within an inch of its life, a velvet cape flowing from epaulets at the shoulders. His hair was tamed into a smooth style under his gold crown, though his eyes conveyed something less tame: restless irritation, as if he’d been kept waiting for days instead of half an hour.
He’d seemed bored more and more lately. I had a feeling he’d waited around for my coronation, but once it was over, he’d find an excuse to set sail again.
About time, he mouthed.
It took a heroic effort of will not to roll my eyes at him.
I returned my attention to the dais. Just a few feet away now, it was covered in a hazardous layer of ice—which wasn’t as intimidating as the permafrost in Arcus’s eyes. It matched his deep blue doublet nicely.
“Did you miss me?” I asked as he reached out a hand to help me up the steps.
“I’ve decided to execute you,” he said in a low voice, his freezing hand tightening on mine as he led me to the throne. “I merely need to decide how. Hanging seems too quick and merciful.”
“On my first day as queen? That seems a little hasty.”
When I would have sat, his hand held me in place. His head bent toward mine, his gaze piercing. “Where were you? I thought you might have bolted.”
“Would you have blamed me? Look at all these people. Some of them used to throw things at me.”
“Are you going to answer my question?”
“Later. I have a coronation to win.”
He frowned. “You don’t win a coronation.”
“Watch me.” With every bit of grace I could summon, I took my place on the throne.
“What have I done?” Arcus muttered, aggrieved.
But his eyes were brimming with pride as he stepped back and nodded to the Archbishop of the Order of Fors, who moved forward to lead me in my vows. For the first time, I saw the arena as a whole: hundreds of people waving red-and-blue banners with both Sudesian and Tempesian crests, the merging of two kingdoms and two peoples. Maybe Doreena was right. Maybe they did want me to succeed.
Either way, they were stuck with me.
The ceremony began.
The ballroom was aggressively festive, every available space cluttered with something colorful or sparkly. Evening sunlight from the tall windows took prismatic detours through ice statues, while bronze filigree lanterns provided an amber glow in the corners. Tubs of flowering plants and evergreen topiaries were set between each white-draped window, and a rich carpet ran the center of the room. Scores of courtiers and dignitaries sipped wine and chattered in small groups. The walls were covered in Sudesian tapestries, showing scenes of erupting volcanoes and battles involving a great deal of fire. A nice touch.
Marella swanned up to me, her blond hair smooth as ice, pulled back from her head and tamed into an impossibly perfect bun at her nape. She held an ostrich feather fan that whispered back and forth under laughing violet eyes. She lowered her fan to reveal a smirk. “Late for your own coronation. I must give you points for drama.”
“I wasn’t trying to be dramatic. Speaking of which, I thought you were going for an understated theme.” I made an all-encompassing gesture. As royal decorator for the occasion, Marella had called in artisans and craftspeople from all over the kingdom and beyond. I should have known my request to keep it simple would go unheeded.
“It is understated,” she said with a slight arch of her brows. “I even said no to a gold-plated statue of Sud.” She leaned in. “It was too tall to fit in the ballroom.”
“That doesn’t show an ounce of restraint. These ceilings are fifty feet high.”
“I’m quite proud of myself,” she said, clearly missing the point. “Behemoth statues aside, let me show you all the things I imported from Sudesia. The Fireblood princeling helped.” She sniffed. “He’s not quite as useless as he appears.” Her gaze moved to where Kai stood talking to a Safran ambassador. And stayed there.
I hid my surprise. Was Marella interested in the Fireblood princeling she treated so dismissively? It was only a brief stare, but it was enough to make me wonder.
She wrested her attention away from him and beckoned me to follow her. Before I could take a step, a large hand touched my forearm. It was a light touch but a very cold one, and contained a clear message.
I waved Marella to go on without me. With a knowing smile, she took her leave.
“You’re not moving an inch from my side, my errant queen,” came the unbending tones of the king. “In fact, I may chain you to me.”
I turned to look up at him and folded my arms. “You can certainly try.”
“It would have made finding you this morning much easier. Where were you?” He drew me into the only corner not filled with either guests or statuary.
“You’re looming. Stop looming. This isn’t an interrogation.”
“I’m taller than you. I can’t help but loom. Could you please stop changing the subject?”
“You’re reading too much into it. I lost track of time. I didn’t bolt. And now I’m wearing a very heavy crown that is probably ruining my posture.”
“You can take it off in a couple of hours, and then you only have to wear it during official events and on the rare holiday.”
“Oh, goody. A torture device for special occasions.”
He gave me a measured look. “What’s wrong? Did someone say something to annoy you? One of the courtiers?”
“No, of course not. You got rid of all the ones who hate me, remember?”
“Is it something to do with your infirmary project? I know the expansion of the building is taking longer than you hoped, and there’s a shortage of skilled healers.”
“No, nothing like that. Brother Gamut is training new ones as we speak. He thinks they’ll be ready to work independently by the end of spring. I’m very pleased.”
“Is it something to do with”—his voice dropped—“the Blue Legion? Eurus? The Minax?”
“No, no, and no. I wouldn’t keep that a secret from you.”
“Then what is it?” He took my shoulders, his head bent toward mine so our eyes were level. Tension radiated from him. “Ruby, do you regret this? Are you second-guessing your decision to be with me?”
“Of course not!” I said, shocked. “Never.”
I’d meant every word of the vows I’d taken at Forwind Abbey when Brother Thistle had bound Arcus and me together in marriage. We’d pledged to love, honor, and cherish each other for all time, and every syllable of that promise had felt deeply right. I hadn’t had a single moment of regret.
He let out a breath. “Then what is going on?”
I sighed, trying to hold on to my patience. “I have a surprise for you, and you’re ruining it.”
“Does your surprise involve tying me up in knots? Because that’s what you’re doing.”
“I’m sorry. I just… I wanted to show you something I can do.”
If anything, he looked more concerned. “What do you mean?”
I considered pummeling his chest with my fists. “Do you have to look so terrified? If it were something as heinous as you seem to think, I’d hardly be happy about it.”
He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes in thought. “I’m not sure that’s true.”
I willed myself to calm, feeling a familiar
heat bubbling through my veins—a heat I’d thought was gone forever. “Will you just trust me?”
“Yes! As soon as you confess whatever secret plans kept you from your own coronation.”
Warm to hot. Pretty soon my blood would boil. “Do you really want to argue here? Now? Is this any way to behave?”
A brow lifted. “Now you’re lecturing me on etiquette?”
I threw up my hands. “Someone has to!” People were starting to turn their heads in our direction. “You’re causing a scene.”
“Me?” He had the audacity to look amused. “You don’t think your shouting has something to do with it?”
“I’m not shouting! Ugh! Fine! Here, I’ll just show you.”
I waved my hand at the nearest chandelier.
Phwoomph!
I had intended to make a single candle flare. Instead, every candle in every chandelier erupted into incandescent flames six or seven times higher than before, flickering like hungry tongues against the icy fixtures. Drops of frigid water rained down on the assembly, eliciting gasps and cries. At the same time, a cloud of fire spewed up from one of the lanterns, the conflagration traveling up to where it hit the ceiling with a loud sizzle. There was an echoing crack, and a chunk of ice broke free.
The shard hurtled down toward a cluster of nobles from the northern provinces who’d been, up until that point, having a cordial conversation with a delegate from the Aris Plains.
With startling speed, Arcus sent a torrent of ice to halt the shard’s descent, then added more to fuse the whole thing back to the ceiling. Though it proved to be completely secure, it looked very much like an ax waiting to skewer everyone who stood below. The people underneath had frozen in shock.
Arcus dropped his arms. For a minute, the guests took turns staring from the ceiling to me as if waiting for something else to happen. As if this were the beginning of an unexpected performance, and they weren’t sure whether to applaud or run.
Arcus turned back to me, his eyes a touch wider than usual, but his face blank.