The Crown Prophecy

Chapter 17

I woke before Evander the next morning, my body still on a baker’s schedule. Golden light was just starting to pour in through the window, kissing the bump on the bridge of his nose and casting long shadows from his thick eyelashes onto his cheeks.

For a moment, I caught a glimpse of the boy Georgette had reminisced about so fondly. The lines around his brows softened, taking the last few months of stress and grief with them. I wished we could stay like this forever.

Unfortunately for me, I needed to go. The final fitting for my wedding gown was at two o’clock and I needed to be back from the village before then. Slipping from the bed as silently as I could, I dressed in the same sage green dress I had worn the day before.

I probably should have put on something new, but the memory of Evander’s eyes when he saw me in this gown bolstered me with a foreign sense of confidence. Besides, Mother wouldn’t know what I had worn the day before.

As I waited for my carriage in front of the gate, Vanessa emerged from the castle.

“Why do you have to go so godsdamned early?” she groused.

“I think my schedule is my business,” I replied, training my gaze on the long landscaped drive rather than looking at her.

“Not when His Royal Heinous orders me to accompany you.”

My eyes must’ve been wide as dinner plates, because Vanessa put her hands up in placation.

“Relax,” she said. “I’ll stay in the carriage. He just didn’t want you going alone and assumed you wouldn't want a whole patrol showing up to your mother’s house with you.”

As much as I appreciated the gesture, did it have to be Vanessa? Evander knew we weren’t on the best terms after the attempted mind-wiping stunt she had pulled. Though we’d settled into a tense truce over the past week, the ghost of our friendship loomed over us every time we interacted.

In fact, as I thought about it, I realized that was probably the reason he had asked her. Evander and Vanessa had grown up together and I knew she was important to him. I couldn't imagine he liked the all-too-obvious discord between us.

Well, I didn’t have to trust her, but I could be civil. For Evander’s sake.

The carriage pulled up and I gave the driver directions to the cottage. This time I felt the slight ripple of the ward as I slipped through it. I attempted painful small talk with Vanessa as we journeyed into the village, but she largely ignored me in favor of picking at her nails with the point of her knife until, at long last, we arrived.

“We’re here, Ms. Parry,” the driver called back, and I steeled myself as I opened the door and stepped onto the cobblestone street.

Nothing had changed since I had been here last, but I saw everything with a very different eye. The world outside the cottage, which had once seemed so foreign and exciting to me, suddenly looked small. The vendors down the road were opening their carts for the day, and I smiled as I watched the cobbler begin to enchant his shoes.

All the time I’d spent admiring Wielders and their Gifts made more sense in the wake of my manifestation. The defensiveness I always felt when Mother complained about the injustices of magical society, too. Perhaps a part of me had known all along.

My fist had hardly left the door before my mother opened it, her immaculate countenance showing no sign of early morning haze.

“Quinn!” She smiled when she met my eyes, her usual combative demeanor glaringly absent.

“Mother?” There was no hiding my bewilderment at the bizarre greeting.

Ignoring my confusion, she threw the door open wide to invite me in. No sooner had I crossed the threshold than my heart began to work harder, the memory of the place still fresh enough to feel dangerous. A strange feeling of emptiness came over me. Too many ghosts of the past in this place, I supposed.

After whisking us into the parlor, she sat across from me with her hands in her lap expectantly.

“I’ve been so anxious to see you!” she beamed. No trace of anger lingered in her words, as if our last conversation in this room hadn’t been a screaming argument. None of this made sense. What was her angle? I was certain she had one.

“I’ve come to extend an invitation,” I said, the words stiff as freshly starched crinoline. “I assume you’ve heard the news?”

“Of course I’ve heard the news!” she exclaimed. “My own daughter, queen of Enorias! Who would ever have guessed?”

I tried not to let the shock show on my face. I’d endured Mother’s complaints about the royals for as long as I could remember, and now she was–what? Excited for me to become one of them? I had come here ready for an argument, but it didn’t feel like a fight was on the horizon.

Which is good, isn’t it? I thought, trying to ignore the pit in my stomach that told me to be cautious. I pushed the feeling aside and did my best to return her smile.

“Certainly not me,” I confided, unable to help myself as I desperately grasped for the olive branch she seemed to be holding. Maybe I could have my mother back after all. “But Evander is a good man, and–”

“Oh I’m sure,” she cut me off. “So when is the ceremony?”

“Four days’ time,” I told her, “at noon. I would be honored if you would come as my guest.”

“Of course I will!” She accepted without any hesitation. “You think I would miss my own daughter’s wedding?”

“Coronation too,” I added, puffing with pride a bit.

Mother clapped her hands together.

“I’ll have to meet with the tailor to have something suitable commissioned this afternoon,” she stood up abruptly, “and I’m sure you have far more important things to do than sit here and talk to me. I must let you get back to the palace, but I so look forward to seeing you again.”

Her wide smile looked plastered on her face. Usually I was an expert at judging her mood, but this was foreign to me. She gripped me in a hug for a moment before pulling back, a more serious look taking root in her eyes.

“I do love you, my daughter,” she promised. “I hope you know that.”

That was as close to an apology as I was going to get. She ushered me toward the door less than five minutes after I had arrived, and I spent the whole carriage ride home wondering what in the hells just happened.

. . .

That night I made good on my promise to myself to spend some time in the kitchen. When I knew the space would be empty, I tiptoed out of bed in my cotton nightgown, running through a mental list of recipes I could try.

I longed for something challenging that would take my mind off the thousand uncomfortable questions that had been swirling around in my head since this afternoon.

The pantry was fully stocked, and I began to pull out ingredients for macarons. Sugar? Check. Eggs? Check. Almond flour? Check.

I grabbed some lemon extract for flavoring and set my spoils on the counter, running through the steps in my head. The precision of macarons was exactly what I needed right now. A perfect distraction.

Once I began to mix the dry ingredients in a bowl, it didn’t take long to fall into the meditative process I knew so well. Before I knew it, the batter was done, so I located a piping bag and began to make small circles on a sheet of parchment paper.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” came a deep voice from the doorway. Evander chuckled as he strolled into the room, still in his nightclothes. I laughed softly as I recognized my own words from a few weeks ago. Had it only been weeks? It seemed like a lifetime.

“Everything all right?” he asked, snaking his arms around me from behind and settling his chin into the space between my neck and shoulder.

“Mhmm,” I hummed, biting my lower lip in concentration as I tapped the tray on the counter to expel the air bubbles.

He began pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the side of my neck, and a hiss escaped my lips as I grabbed the counter.

Well, that’s another type of distraction, I thought, leaning into his touch.

Evander huffed a laugh against my skin, moving upward to concentrate on my ear, drawing the lobe gently between his teeth as he let out a low sound of approval.

“Do you remember the last time I found you down here late at night?” he hummed.

“I remember you made me burn my tart crusts,” I said, fighting to keep my voice at a normal pitch.

“Is that what you remember?” Evander asked, returning to my neck. “That’s certainly not the impression that night left on me.” His voice rumbled against my skin.

“No?” I didn’t quite manage to inject the challenge I was aiming for into my tone. It came out breathy, all need.

“No.” He breathed the word against my neck as if he were whispering a great secret into my flesh. “I remember the way you smelled like sugar and vanilla. I remember the way your mouth tasted exactly how I had imagined it would.” My head lolled back as he drew his hands lightly over my shoulders and down my sides, making my skin prickle in goose flesh through the thin cotton of my nightgown.

“And I remember the way you let me lift you up onto the counter and that little sound you made when you realized just how much I wanted you. Gods, the noises you make . . .”

I spun around to face him, thrusting my hands into his hair hungrily and stealing his next words from his lips. Yes, I remembered that night, and I remembered all too well the hopelessness that followed when I thought I couldn’t have this, have him.

This time, there were no pastries in the oven to call my attention away. Even if there had been, I would rather let the world burn than tear my focus away from the way Evander’s mouth claimed mine. The shimmering string of our bond told me exactly how much he wanted me.

He hoisted me so my legs wrapped around his waist, and backed me up to the cooler. The cold metal was a sharp contrast from the heat of his body. Our tongues warred with each other, each fighting to gain ground.

My hands tangled in his thick, dark waves as he palmed one of my breasts. The sensation drew a sharp breath from my lungs, and the noise was all the confirmation he needed. Gently, he pushed the nightgown off my shoulders, one strap at a time, exposing my skin to the chilly evening air. When I was laid bare, he moved his lips to my neck, kissing down my throat, my collarbone, my chest, then to the sensitive peak of my nipple. My back arched when he drew it into his mouth, flicking his tongue in a way that made me shudder. It still wasn’t enough.

“I need this off, now,” I said, but Evander gingerly set me down and took a step back, his mouth kicking up at the corner in amusement.

“In your workspace, Quinn?” he tutted, toying with me. “Not very professional. ” His goading smirk lit a fire in my core.

“I don’t work here anymore,” I tossed back. His teasing didn’t have much bite when I could see his desire straining against his trousers. I let my nightgown drop to the floor.

“Hmmm, I suppose you don’t,” he mused, stalking back toward me. His hands landed on my hips, thumbs tracing light circles on my skin as he spoke. “Though if you’re interested in that concept, we could certainly try this upstairs another time. I can think of some interesting positions I’d like to try on the throne with my queen.” Eyes darkening, he slid his hands lower, lifting me onto one of the large counters in the center of the room. “My wife.”

Climbing up to join me, he laid us down, his arms moving to bracket my face and he looked into my eyes.

“Evander,” I breathed. That devilish grin returned to his face, but he only pressed a chaste kiss to my lips before sitting up and sliding off the counter.

“What are you . . .?”

“Shhhh,” he cut me off.

So slowly it felt like torture, he slid my undergarments off and dropped them to the floor, all the while keeping his blue eyes trained on mine. I realized what he meant to do only an instant before he finally broke eye contact, lowering his head and dragging his tongue slowly through my center.

Oh gods.

Evander moaned. “Fuck, Quinn. You even taste the way I imagined you would that night.”

At the sound of my name, I let out a little whimper.

“Tell me what feels good.”

“Evander, you don’t have to–”

He shushed me again, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh. “Let me take care of you.” His hot mouth returned to its ministrations, and he tried a faster pace, finding that aching bud of nerves and flicking his tongue over it.

I cried out; there was no room for embarrassment as my skin caught fire.

“Like that?” he asked, momentarily stopping. I missed the contact immediately, shifting up to meet him again.

“ Gods yes. ”

With a low chuckle, he resumed, and I could only hope my shields were working, because the sounds I was making were enough to wake the whole castle.

His hands snaked up my thighs, ending above his mouth with a slight upward pressure to widen his access.

“I need-” I gasped. “I need more.”

He dragged his fingers along my entrance, teasing me.

“Please,” I breathed.

“Please what?” he rumbled. I could feel the ghost of his smile on my skin, and the sensation threatened to be my undoing then and there.

“Give me more,” The huskiness in my voice came from someone else. “Use your hand.”

That gravelly chuckle was going to be the death of me.

“That’s my girl,” he growled in approval, finally sliding two fingers inside me. When he moved them, I saw stars behind my lids. My toes curled as I rocked up into him.

Opening my eyes, I watched his dark curls between my thighs, and the sight was enough to push me over the edge. Wave after wave overtook me, my hips bucking off the counter as I found my release.

When I finally stilled, Evander lifted his head, and licked his lips slowly.

“Your chambers. Now,” I panted.

“Excellent idea, my love.”

Abandoning the macaron batter, we practically ran up the stairs, giggling, to finish what we started.

. . .

I didn’t have a chance to tell Evander what happened with my mother until the next morning when we woke up in his four-poster bed, a happy mess of tangled limbs and sleepy smiles.

“Good morning, my love,” he smiled down at me, brushing the hair off of my forehead before planting a tender kiss there.

I sighed contentedly and nuzzled down into his arms. “Good morning.” Luxuriating in the downy covers, I took a moment of quiet gratitude. A week was not nearly long enough to have gotten used to the joy of a life with him. Truth be told, I didn’t know if I ever would.

“What does your day look like?” he asked.

“Dull, if I’m being honest.” Preparation for my coronation involved copious amounts of studying, so I’d likely spend the majority of my day in the library. I hoped Vanessa would be otherwise occupied so I wouldn’t have to repeat yesterday’s performance of stilted conversation.

Reminded of our strange sojourn into the village, I brought Evander up to speed.

“So I suppose my mother’s attending,” I finished in resignation.

“And how do you feel about that?” Evander asked, stroking my hair. I looked up at him and smiled. Bedhead. Despite my complicated feelings about my mother, my heart soared. Nothing she could do would ruin this.

“All right, I suppose,” I said. “Her behavior made me feel . . . ‘uneasy’ might be the best word. But I don’t think she'd be bold enough to make a scene at the wedding.”

I hoped.

“We’ll have someone keep an eye on her. Just in case,” Evander promised, and I nodded my thanks.

“It’s so strange to think about you meeting her,” I mused, tracing circles on Evander’s chest. “It feels as though my life is split in two, and both halves can’t possibly coexist in the same space.”

“Though I’d love nothing more than to let her know exactly what I think about her treatment of you,” he said, “I promise I’ll be cordial. I know avoiding tension on our wedding day is important to you, and I trust you to fight your own battles, as long as you know that I am a ready sword for you to wield as you wish.”

“I know you are. But I want this to be a day of celebration, not confrontation.” Besides, I didn’t need protection from her any longer. It was long past time for me to take the reins of my own life and decide how, if at all, she fit into it. At last, it would be my choice.

“Quinn,” Evander began, “your visit to your mother got me thinking, and I’d like to ask something of you. If you have time today–the decision is yours, of course, but it would mean a great deal to me if you’d let me take you to meet my mother.”

My heart sang in response to his request. I’d been hoping he would ask, but I didn’t want to push or pry. Without knowing Evalina before she fell ill, I wasn’t sure how she would feel about being seen in such a vulnerable state, and I wanted to respect both her and her son.

“She’s still unresponsive,” Evander continued, biting his lip, “but I’d like to believe she can sense my presence at the very least. It feels wrong for the two of you to be complete strangers.” At this, he studied my face, eyebrows scrunched, and I realized he was waiting nervously for my reaction.

Placing a hand on his cheek, I reassured him. “I would love nothing more than to meet your mother, Evander. It would be an honor.”

Relief flashed on his face before he kissed me, featherlight and adoring.

“I love you,” he murmured.

“And I love you.” So much that it felt impossible to communicate the feeling with words. Bringing his hand to my lips, I gave it a firm squeeze, and rose to dress for the day.

. . .

It was surreal to arrive at the chambers where I was supposed to bring Queen Evalina’s breakfast all those months ago, this time with Evander’s hand in mine. I recalled the contentious conversation we’d shared in the stairwell that day and smiled. I already had so much to thank his mother for.

“Are you ready?” Evander asked.

Truthfully, I didn’t think anything could have primed either of us for this moment, but, like all important moments in life, it wasn’t going to wait for me to be prepared.

Swallowing, I nodded to him, and he raised a hand to knock gently on the warm wood of the door.

The figure that opened it was a surprise.

“Mellie?”

My shock was mirrored in her eyes, which only widened as she took in Evander’s form next to me. She dropped into a bow.

“Your Majesty,” she greeted.

Evander bid her to rise, and she slipped out of the room to join us in the hallway, shutting the door behind her.

“We’re here to see my mother,” he explained. “I mean–of course we are. We’re at her door, so . . .” he trailed off, words escaping him. His grip tightened on my hand. Was he nervous?

“It’s all right,” I laughed. “She doesn’t bite.”

Evander rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “My apologies. It’s only that I know how important you are to Quinn, and I’ve heard so much about you.”

Mellie quirked a brow. “And I you,” she returned, smirking. “I’ve been lucky enough to call your mother a friend for many years.”

Evander’s face reddened as he realized the implication of her words.

“As a subject, and your head baker, I’m honored to meet you. As a friend of Quinn, even more so.” She hesitated only a second before continuing. “You’ll have to forgive an old woman for her protective nature, but I have to warn you: I’ve told your mother much about my darling Quinn over the years, and I’m sure she would protect her almost as fiercely as I would, so you’d best be good to her.”

“Mellie!” I scolded, embarrassment creeping into my cheeks, even as my heart warmed at her words. She had told the queen about me. Perhaps we weren’t complete strangers after all.

Now it was Evander’s turn to chuckle. “It’s all right. I wouldn’t dream of hurting her, with or without a warning.”

“Good man.” Mellie patted his arm. Given all her talk about respecting Evander when I was first hired on, I loved her boldness with him now.

He flashed her a dazzling smile, but it wobbled when he turned his attention back to the door.

“Is she . . .?”

“No change, I’m afraid.” Mellie shook her head sadly. “But she can feel us there, I know it.”

Evander nodded, his lips a tight line.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” Mellie said, embracing me tightly and giving us a sad smile before leaving the way we had come.

Evander looked at the door but made no move to open it, worry and hesitation written in the furrow of his brow. While I hated to see him so grief-stricken, I cherished the opportunity to support him in this moment.

“Shall we?” I asked. He nodded and, taking his arm, I reached for the handle.

Though it was dim, I could tell that the room was well appointed. Lush, verdant hues of green could be found on the velvet couches in the sitting room, the papered walls, and the plush rug. Evander led the way to the bed chamber, opening the door as quietly as possible.

I took a deep breath as I stepped into the room, my heart heavy.

Though I’d seen her portraits in the castle, I was utterly unprepared for the reality of how much Evalina looked like her son. Though her hair, fanned out on her pillow, was a lighter brown, with waves instead of Evander’s loose curls, there was so much of him in her face. I recognized her strong nose and high cheekbones, and long lashes that dusted the tops of her cheeks as she slept. If I didn’t know how hard the healers had been working to keep her stable, I might’ve considered the sight peaceful.

The side of the bed opposite the queen was glaringly empty. King Roland’s side table looked as if it had been kept as he left it, though there wasn’t a speck of dust in sight. A pair of reading glasses and a thick leatherbound book sat next to an extinguished candle standing sentinel.

Evander cleared his throat softly. “Hello Mother.” He moved to her bedside, taking her hand from where it rested on her sternum. His voice was thick as he continued. “I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

My throat was tight as I moved to join him, placing a hand on his back.

“This is my fiancée, Quinn Parry.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Queen Evalina.” I dropped into a deep bow, though I knew she couldn’t see. This woman deserved all the respect I could offer.

When I rose, I found Evander was struggling with his next words, tears shining in his eyes as he swallowed repeatedly.

“May I?” I asked him, gesturing to the chair that had been pulled up to her bedside. When he nodded in assent, I took a seat.

Giving him a moment, I began to speak, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible.

“I hope you can hear me, because I have been wanting to thank you for a very long time. You have raised such a kind and noble man. Evander has already been an incredible ruler to your people, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am to have the honor of knowing him.” I paused to look back at Evander, who had moved behind the chair, his hands gripping its carved wooden back, knuckles white.

Taking in a breath, I continued. “I know how important it was to you that he found a love like your own, and while I wasn’t lucky enough to be a witness to your marriage, I want to assure you: I adore your son with my whole heart. We made our way to each other despite overwhelming odds, and I will never take his love for granted.” Tears began to fall down my face as Evander’s hand found my shoulder and squeezed. When I turned to him again, I found his cheeks shining as well.

Though Evalina couldn’t react, I hoped she felt the sincerity of my words. There would never be anything I could do to repay her for the gift of her son, but perhaps I could bring her some comfort.

“Do you think . . . do you think we could stay a while and read to her?” I asked Evander.

His mouth dropped open for a moment before he responded, and I worried I had been too forward. Finally though, he spoke.

“I think she would love that.” He picked up the volume from his father’s side table, which turned out to be a book of Formerian poetry, and I began to read aloud.