“I’m not asking you to marry me right now,” Prince Jeremy said, “or even in five years. What happened to Egret wounded you deeply, and it will take you a long time to heal. I just want that chance you promised me before we went through the portal.”
“To see if Nyneve was right about you being in love with me?” I said, my tone angrier than I meant it to be. It wasn’t Jeremy’s fault that the lady in the lake had told him about me, or that I had been born the last Artist in the world. If anything, he had tried to protect me from her prophesy.
“No.” He pulled me closer and looked right into my eyes. “To see if I am.”
Epilogue
“DON’T BE nervous.” Philip stood next to me outside the doors to the throne room, where hundreds of people awaited my entrance. “Just think of what a happy day this is for the kingdom.”
Thinking of the entire kingdom did not make me feel better, but I smiled at Philip anyway.
Jo and Jade had already gone in; they were both married by the time of our wedding, so they were my matrons of honor in the long, purple dresses I’d designed just for them. In front of them went their children, two toddlers who threw flowers along the path I would take to reach the throne. My mother, who had been specially flown in from Earth, would be seated in the front row next to the other important relatives and diplomats in attendance.
The servants opened the door so that King Philip could slip through and take his place on the throne, and after a few minutes, the music began: Pachelbel’s Canon in D, another steal from one of Jeremy’s trips to Earth, still the favorite wedding song after so many centuries.
I looked down at the long, white gown that trailed five feet behind me. The dress had been Nimue’s wedding dress, and along the bottom she’d had scenes from legends sewn so that the figures danced and lunged and battled across the floor when I walked. I’d thought about sewing my own dress, but something about this one felt right. Later, after the ceremony, I would change into my own creation, a purple party frock with the map of Draman sewn onto it in gold threads.
On my cue, the servants opened the door and bowed as I walked through. Hundreds of eyes turned toward me, eagerly fighting for a view of their new royalty. Carefully I took one step, then another. Then step, step, step until I was by Prince Jeremy’s side.
“People of Draman,” King Grian began. “I am pleased to present you with Lumi Hawthorne, the last Artist in the universe and the woman whom my son loves. Lumi, do you take Jeremy to be your husband for as long as the stars shine in the sky and the sun wakes on the horizon?”
“I do.”
“And Prince Jeremy, only son of Kings Grian and Philip, do you take Lumi to be your wife for as long as the moon glows in the night and the planet turns?”
“I do.”
We exchanged the rings, and then Prince Jeremy stepped back to his seat for the second part of the ceremony. He looked so happy, and he kept looking down at the gold band around his finger and twisting it.
“The marriage to a royal comes not just with responsibilities of the heart, but responsibilities of the head. You do not just marry a prince, but his entire country. Lumi, do you promise to lead Draman and its people for as long as the grains of sand fill its deserts and water fills its lakes?”
“I do.”
“And do you promise you will do everything in your power to protect them, to guide them and help them through their struggles, until the last beatings of your heart?”
“I promise.”
“Then by the powers that were entrusted to me by the people of Draman, I pronounce you Princess Lumi. All hail Princess Lumi.”
King Grian raised the small silver crown that would mark me as royalty, and the five carat diamond in the center sparkled in the sun.
“All hail Princess Lumi,” the crowd echoed.
For such a small crown, it carried a lot of weight.
TWO YEARS after becoming Queen Lumi, I did something I had never imagined in all of my years as Luke or Lumi. I got pregnant.
“Push!” the midwife ordered from beneath the sheet.
Exhausted, I tried to push but only fell back against the pillow.
“You can do this,” King Jeremy comforted me as he dabbed my forehead with a cold cloth. “You’re almost there, my queen.”
Using all of my remaining strength, I pushed through the agonizing pain. To my right was a window that looked out on the vast Dramanian desert spotted with pink and white cactus flowers, and beyond that, one of the mountain villages. Over the years this planet had become my home. I had grown into a woman here, and the people had accepted me as one of their own. If ever there was a society to appreciate my struggles, to admire my journey and to promote Jeremy’s fluidity, it was on Draman.
For them, I reminded myself as the pain grew and grew. They needed this child too.
Nothing moved, and then, suddenly, the baby emerged into the midwife’s arms.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
I could not see my child over the edge of the sheet.
“And I mean really beautiful,” she continued. “That skin… and hair… why it’s almost—”
“—gold,” Jeremy finished for her. “As gold as the sun.”
They handed me my baby, and sure enough, it was all Sun Dragon. Even through the blood that coated its skin, the baby glowed in a way that I had only seen one other person do. King Grian was dead, but his legacy lived on in his grandchild. I checked below the blanket, and to my surprise, I saw only one set of parts: a girl’s.
“We will call you Griana,” I whispered as I ran my finger along the edge of her soft cheek. “And you will be the Queen of all the dragons, one day. Or the King, if you prefer.”
“My queen,” a guard interrupted from the door, “I hate to bother you during such a joyous time, but a man named Aaron is here to see you.”
“Aaron?” Through the post-delivery haze I could barely remember who that was, but when the guard mentioned the ten-year-old boy who accompanied him, I remembered.
“Merlin,” I whispered. Then louder: “Yes, clean up as best you can and then let them in.”
The boy entered first. He had black hair and bright blue eyes, just like Merlin before he grew so old and gray. Unlike most boys his age who would have been disgusted by the scene, Merlin simply sat down beside my bed and put a hand on Princess Griana’s back.
“Griana,” Merlin stated, though he could not have heard our conversation.
“The only Sun Dragon in the universe,” I whispered.
“Ruler of all dragons,” Merlin added.
“Yes.”
We all looked down at the dozing baby, who only moved to nuzzle into my chest. She smelled like the corn starch the midwife had tapped on like she was adding powdered sugar to a cookie.
“We will need her,” Merlin prophesied as he moved his hand off the baby’s back.
“Need her?” King Jeremy and I exchanged a fearful glance. “What do you mean, need her?”
But either Merlin could not tell us about what he had seen or did not want to. The more we pressed him, the vaguer he grew. Even Aaron, once he joined us, could not get his son to say a word more on the matter.
“He just kept insisting we had to come,” Aaron said with a shrug. “He even went on a hunger strike until we agreed. Wise beyond his years, this boy.”
Merlin seemed not to hear him. He only had eyes for baby Griana, but in those eyes, I could read most of what I needed to know. The world was safe for now, but soon, it would need another hero. And Princess Griana, leader of the dragons, was it.
“But for now, you sleep,” I whispered to Griana, “and dream of all of the great things you will do. Sleep, and be a child, if only for a while. The world will come for you soon enough.”
In response to my voice, the baby glowed like a beacon through a stormy night. And we all watched her, glowing, for a very long time.
I COULDN’T explain why Griana’s eighteenth birthday party seemed so im
portant, but at the time, the arrangements were all I thought about. I wanted everything to be perfect for my only child, even if she had turned into a rebel and stayed that way since her thirteenth birthday. I’d spent months selecting exactly which songs would play in exactly which order; I’d held tryouts for the musicians, and fashion shows for the dress Griana would wear. The servants all had new uniforms just for today, complete with black aprons and black buttons.
“Classical music? Really, Mom?” Griana had snuck up behind me and spotted the musicians as they set up their stands and tuned their instruments. “You know I hate that stuff.”
“I know, Griana,” I said, trying to contain my frustration. “But we’re on Draman, not Earth, and punk rock is not exactly a local favorite. Remember, there are over a thousand citizens traveling from all over Draman to attend.”
Griana spent every summer on Earth by special invitation from the Council, and the planet’s culture fit her rebel persona much better than the more traditional Draman. To counter her sunny appearance, Griana had begun wearing all black and painting her nails the same color. She wore thick eyeliner and dusky gray shadow on her lids, and only ever combat boots on her feet. The last time she visited Earth, she had even tried to dye her hair black, but luckily, her sunny locks seemed immune to dye. For an hour they were gray, and then, like a lightbulb turned on, they were back to yellow again.
“But isn’t it my birthday?” Griana whined. “Isn’t my opinion the one that matters?”
“Not when you’re a princess.” I would admit I’d had the same thought as her many times during my reign, but I’d had to learn the humility that apparently Griana did not possess yet. “Your number one priority is the good of your planet, remember?”
“This isn’t even my planet,” she grumbled. “I’m a Sun Dragon, and Earth is my true home.”
“You’ve been reading too many histories of your grandfather,” I said, and she flushed. “Don’t forget that King Grian lived out his life on Draman, even after he was crowned ruler of all the dragons.”
“Whatever. When does this fun-fest start again?”
“Four hours. Speaking of which, don’t you need to get changed?”
Griana looked down at her black leather pants and lace-up tank top. “I am changed.”
Don’t sigh, I reminded myself. This is just a phase. A phase that had already lasted five years, but I chose to ignore that part.
“Please just try on the dress I selected for you.” I tried not to beg, but I couldn’t help it. “It’s black, and covered in sequins. What more could you want out of a gown?”
“For it to be pants.”
This time, I sighed.
Griana went to talk to Jeremy as I directed the decorator in a few last-minute arrangements. When I looked over at my husband and daughter, they were grinning, Griana having already forgotten her annoyance about the party. She and Jeremy had always been closer—their dragon sides sent them on long trips to the Dramanian towns or into the atmosphere, while I, a seemingly normal human, stayed home and kept the kingdom in order. I rarely even used my powers anymore; besides the occasional replenishing of flowers the desert had killed off, there was no need for an Artist. Griana probably thought my powers were lame, and I could see her point.
“Wait,” I said, putting a hand out to stop the florist. “Let me draw today.”
“Of course, my queen.”
One of the servants brought me my easel, and I poured my frustration at Griana into my work. Channeling her favorite theme, I adjusted the design from my original Sun Dragon theme to a more appropriate gothic look. Egret would have liked this, I thought as I painted black roses into the arrangements on every table and hung black streamers from the air. And the theme, black and white, was still fancy enough to be royal, so the people would be pleased.
“Cool,” Griana said when she turned around and noticed the change of scenery.
That was more positive emotion than I had gotten out of my daughter in months. Pleased, I ripped the paper off of the drawing pad, folded it up, and put it in my coat pocket. I saved all of the drawings I did, at first because I thought Griana would take an interest in my work and then later because I hoped maybe the next generation would. At the very least, the drawings reminded me that I was more than just a figurehead. I was an Artist, even if I didn’t act like it most of the time.
After triple checking the placement of the silverware and ordering the cook to send out the plates, I went upstairs to change. I flipped through the dresses hanging in my wardrobe and eventually found one all the way in the back, the bottom dusty from the many years it had sat unworn.
“Hello, old friend,” I said to the dress I’d drawn on my first day on Draman. Then I touched the sleeve, tracing my finger along the vines, and pictured Egret as she’d been that day in school when I’d forgotten my book and she lent me hers. Back when she called me Space Boy, and I didn’t care because it meant that I was more to her than just some guy with the neighboring locker. Back when she was so distant toward me that I never even guessed she’d loved me.
Griana was so much like her.
For the most part, the dress still fit. A bit snug in a few places, it could be easily altered to hug my new curves with a few swipes of my pencil. After I slipped out of it and returned it to its hanger, my maids came to curl my hair and adorn my head with the golden crown that had belonged to King Jeremy’s grandmother, Nimue. One day—as long as she stayed on Draman—Sara Lee’s crown would go to Griana. For now, she wore the silver crown I’d been given at my coronation so many years ago.
“You look beautiful, your majesty,” the maids said as they put each strand in its roller. Despite my pleas, Jeremy had not permitted me to draw electricity into this world, so I had to make due with regular rollers and no straightener.
“You are too kind.”
They left me to wait for the curls to dry. With the help of the Draman sun pouring through my window, I knew it wouldn’t take long. In the meantime I watched all of the figures flying through the sky on their way to and from the capital and wondered if Jeremy and Griana were among them.
Visitors flooded the first floor of the castle, and after my maids removed the curlers and I changed into my dress, I met them in the reception room. Not just governors had been invited, but lower government officials and even townspeople chosen at random to attend the birthday party of their princess. Everyone marveled at the decorations, commenting on how unique and fashionable they were, as they snacked on expensive hors d’oeuvres made with Dramanian snails and desert flowers.
“Where’s Griana?” I asked Jeremy after I pulled him away from one of the southern governor’s rants about water supplies.
“No clue. We went for an impromptu flight, but that was hours ago.”
He didn’t seem concerned, but then again, he never was. One of the perks of being king, I supposed. Griana’s outbursts didn’t bother him as much as they bothered me, but as I was in charge of keeping Griana respectable for events like these, Jeremy rarely encountered them.
After excusing myself, I went back upstairs to look for Griana and found her in her bedroom. At fifteen she had paid the maids a sack of coins each to sneak in and redecorate the room while Jeremy and I were away on diplomatic business, and now the place looked like a haunted house, complete with pillars, black walls, cobwebs, and dusty mirror. The drapery on her bed was all black, turning the queen-sized frame into a very large shroud.
Griana looked as though she had just tumbled backward onto the bed, though she had probably lain that way for hours.
“Are you okay?” I asked. She didn’t respond, and when I got closer I spotted the telltale earbuds in her ears. Finally, when I was only inches from her face, she startled.
“God, Mom, you scared me.”
“I didn’t expect to find you up here wasting the last of your battery life on pop music instead of attending your own birthday party,” I scolded.
“I told you, I hate that
diplomatic stuff. I probably like two people downstairs, and they’re you and dad.”
At least I made the cut.
“And I told you that doesn’t matter,” I said, trying not to show how pleased I was. “You’re to be queen one day, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah. And the great Queen Sara Lee’s crown will sit atop my golden head. Blah, blah, blah.”
This conversation was going nowhere, so I resorted to trying to roll my daughter off the bed like a baker with his sack of flour. She gripped the opposite edge, so I pulled harder, until finally she lost her grip and fell into the pile of blankets with a giggle.
“Fine, I’ll come downstairs. But that doesn’t mean I’ll be polite.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I called behind my shoulder.
When Griana finally did grace the guests with her presence, they acted like they didn’t notice the number of times she mentioned how miserable she was. At least she had changed into the sequined dress, a strapless number with a mermaid bottom that seemed like a compromise between her typical style and the one I hoped she would adopt as she grew into the crown, though she hadn’t changed her shoes.
Griana blew out her candles, black and white striped wax pillars on a black and white cake that matched the rest of the décor, and opened some of the hundred gifts brought from all over the planet. Jeremy and I presented her with a golden bracelet that had belonged to Allanah, the witch who had produced the only Sun Dragon since the original clan, and she seemed genuinely pleased as she locked it around her wrist. Maybe, just maybe, Griana was having a little bit of fun.
The night drew dark, and the musicians picked up the tempo as the servants paved a dance floor out of the crowd. King Jeremy and I led the first dance, and with all eyes on us, we waltzed around the ballroom the way we had on our first day on Draman.
“You haven’t changed a bit,” Jeremy whispered in my ear.
“Oh, please.”
“I mean it. If our daughter wasn’t in the corner sulking about the forced human interaction required of her, I would swear we had just met a few days ago.”
Luminosity Page 14