The Crown Prophecy

Chapter 18

F inally, after a days -long frenzied blur of stationary, brocade, and frosting, I found myself awakening in my own bed for the first time in weeks. Out of habit, I reached for Evander’s warmth next to me but found the space empty. Blinking my eyes open slowly, I realized I was in my room on the third floor. The morning of our wedding had arrived at last.

For all his complaining about Georgette’s rules, Evander had been the one to insist we slept separately last night (to “build the suspense” he said with a wink.)

I would be sure to give him grief about it later. I hadn’t slept so poorly in ages.

I kept having the same nightmare about being stuck in a fishbowl, my mother a giant looking in on me, laughing. I woke several times in a cold sweat, only to slip back into the same scene as soon as I fell back asleep.

Just a dream, I told myself. If I had already determined I wasn’t going to let my flesh-and-blood mother ruin my day, I wasn’t going to give that privilege to a distorted version of her in a nightmare.

I padded to the bathroom, splashed my face with cold water, and looked in the mirror. There were bags under my eyes, but they weren’t dramatic enough that I was worried about them. The past few weeks of good sleep, good food, and more than enough time to recover from the stress of the competition had done me well. My face was pink and healthy, glowing with happiness I still couldn’t believe was real.

Feeling like a schoolgirl, I giggled at myself in the mirror, the weight of the day settling into my heart.

My wedding day.

I hadn’t been the kind of little girl who dreamed about white dresses and veils . . . Mostly because I didn’t see a future outside Mother’s cottage where I would get the chance to don them. But despite my lack of childhood daydreams about being a bride, I found myself looking forward to seeing how our selections for the day had all come together. I waltzed around my room by myself, too joyous to feel silly or self-conscious until the moment I heard a knock at the door.

Before I could even put my hand on the cool metal of the lever, the door burst open and Colette strolled inside, Vanessa a shadow behind her.

“Quiinnnn!” Colette exclaimed, taking my hands and spinning me around the room. “Happy wedding day! How are you feeling?”

“Excited,” I said. “Nervous too, if I’m being honest. I just hope I can handle it all.” We’d continued our practice, the hours getting longer every day, but hadn’t made much progress on my solo work.

“You can handle it,” Vanessa said from behind Colette, not quite meeting my eyes despite her vote of confidence.

With a tight smile, I nodded, grateful for her words even if I hadn’t yet forgiven her. To be honest, I was surprised she was here at all.

Another figure cleared their throat and I raised my eyebrows to my hairline as I saw Serena standing in the doorway.

This was the first time I had seen her without her uniform. The grey dress she wore was basic, but flattering, and I saw a tan arm snake around her waist a second before I registered James behind her. She smiled at me, open and genuine, if a little unsure, and held up a bottle of sparkling wine I recognized from the castle’s cellars. Winking at me, she nodded toward the bottle, and I laughed as I realized she probably hadn’t asked Helga nicely for it.

“Are we late?” James asked. A mischievous grin lit his face as he took Serena’s hand and pulled her into the room, his other arm laden with a tray of muffins.

“Not at all!” Colette bubbled, popping a pastry from the tray into her mouth and moaning happily at the taste. “The rest of those can go over there by the pianoforte.” She flitted over to me and whispered, “Surprise! I hope it’s all right that I invited them. I wanted to make sure you were surrounded by your friends this morning.”

I nearly snorted; she clearly had no idea about the fraught history between Serena and me. Surprising myself, I realized that despite the rocky start to our relationship, she had indeed become my friend in a strange way, and I was glad to have her here.

“Thank you, Colette. I appreciate it. But where’s–”

As if she knew she was being summoned, Mellie strode into the room, her smile all sunshine on a cloudless day, full of pride and joy. After enveloping me in a tight hug, she looked at me, tears forming in her eyes. The sight threatened to make my own overflow.

A moment passed in silence, rife with sentiment as we studied each other through blurry lenses, reminiscing on all we had been through together. If I could only have one person with me today, it would be this incredible woman who had wiped so many of my tears, celebrated each and every part of me, and given me tough love when I needed it. I smiled, wobbly and watery, hoping she could see all the love I held for her. The spell was only broken when Mellie laughed and waved the moisture away with her hands, sniffling loudly.

“Goodness gracious. It hasn’t even been two minutes. I will not become a blubbering mess yet. Later, probably,” she joked through the tears, “but right now it’s time to celebrate.”

On cue, James popped the bottle of wine and toasted, “To Quinn! Who makes the best tarts I’ve ever tasted and is also somehow about to become our queen. I’m still a little confused on the specifics!”

He yelled the last few words with the same enthusiasm as the first, and his laughter was contagious as we passed the bottle around, forgoing glasses in our excitement.

“Now,” Serena said, all business, “let’s see what we can do about this hair.”

She sat me down at the desk where Evander had left “The Ballad of Brynne” all those weeks ago and started patiently detangling my copper curls.

I quirked an eyebrow at her. “I have to admit, Serena, this is not something I would have guessed was in your skill set.”

“Everything is in my skill set, Parry,” she quipped. “Besides, I have three younger sisters.” She began to twist my hair into the beginnings of an elegant chignon when I shook my head.

“Leave at least part of it down,” I said, thinking about how Evander had pulled it out of its tie the first night he kissed me in the kitchen. “Evander likes it that way.”

Though she rolled her eyes at my blush, she complied, pinning up a small section at the back of my head and slipping white baby’s breath into the remaining curls in a soft cascading shape. I craned my neck around to see the style in the small mirror above the desk.

“It’s beautiful, Serena. Thank you,” I said earnestly.

Feeling a bit nervous, I allowed Colette to unleash her cosmetics bag on me. I had nothing against it, but my lack of experience made me worry that I’d end up feeling like a clown instead of glamorous and sexy the way I’d seen other women look.

In the end, though, she did a beautiful job, dusting my cheeks with blush, adding a subtle raspberry-shaded stain to my lips, and brushing my eyelashes with mascara. She made no move to cover up my freckles.

I regarded myself in the mirror and took a small breath. I still looked like me, just more. Turning my head from side to side, I smiled, loving how confident I felt.

Colette squeezed my shoulders from behind. “Absolutely beautiful, Quinn,” she beamed.

Opening the armoire, Mellie pulled out the garment bag containing my dress and removed the ivory-colored gown. It took her, Colette, and Serena to help me into it and fasten the dozens of tiny fabric-covered buttons in the back.

The dress was ethereal, with sheer bishop sleeves that extended to just below my elbows and intricate lace floral appliques trailing down from the sweetheart neckline to the hem of the full skirt.

Serena motioned for me to turn around, and I did a giddy spin. Mellie dissolved into tears in earnest, and I hugged her tight as she whispered, “I’m so proud of you, Dumpling.”

I stared at my friends, these people who had seen value in me, in my heart and my company when I had nothing else to offer, and nodded to each of them, hoping the tears shining in my eyes would say what I couldn’t voice.

Finally, my gaze made its way back to my reflection. I glanced from the copper curls to flowing down my back to my smiling face to the luster of the tiny pearls sewn into my dress. Squaring my shoulders, I smiled, feeling more beautiful than I ever had, stronger and more sure of myself than I would have thought possible even just this summer.

Much to the dismay of the royal tailor, I had opted to forgo a veil. I had done enough hiding in my lifetime and now I wanted to walk down the aisle and into my reign obscuring nothing, with clear vision and all my cards on the table. The person I was, for all her flaws and hotheadedness, had gotten me to this moment, and I wouldn’t do her the dishonor of concealing her. My eyes were fire and steel as I prepared for the moment I had unknowingly been barreling toward my entire life.

“I’m ready.”

. . .

Soft music floated through the huge double doors in front of the great hall as I waited for my cue to begin walking down the aisle. I expected to be more nervous, but the fear I felt now was nothing compared to the hopelessness of a few weeks ago. The ceremony, I could get through. With Evander by my side, I would figure out the rest later.

Taking a breath and adjusting my posture so I stood as tall as possible, I promised myself that I would face everything behind the doors and everything that came after with courage and grace. I could do this. After all, I had as much experience ruling as any of the other girls in that competition. The self doubt had to go.

Warm, calloused hands slipped over my eyes just a second after my magic swelled in my chest, letting me know Evander was nearby.

“Hello, love,” he whispered in my ear.

I rounded on him, searching the empty hall to make sure no one was watching us.

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be inside!”

“Relax, love,” Evander soothed, cupping my face in his hands. “No one will notice I’m gone. Maddox is making a speech about the unity of the kingdom and the importance of binding magic together before they start.”

He pulled back to look at me and stopped before finishing his thought.

“Gods, you look radiant,” he said. “You’re like a dream, Quinn.”

I blushed down to my toes. I already felt beautiful, but hearing him say so did something to me that I couldn’t quite explain.

“You’re not supposed to see me,” I pointed out.

“Ah, right,” he conceded. “I just came to give you this.” From his outstretched hand dangled a stunning iridescent opal on a delicate gold chain. Tiny dewdrops of diamonds glittered every inch or so on either side, making it look like snow and ice, forever frozen in time.

“Happy wedding, my love,” he said, slipping it around my neck and clasping it at the back.

My heart felt as though it would burst from the sheer volume of love I’d asked it to hold. “It’s beautiful,” I said. The words weren’t enough to convey how I felt, but I knew he would understand. “Thank you.”

“It’s my mother’s,” Evander explained. “My father gave it to her on their wedding day, and I know she’d be honored that I’m giving it to you.”

“I’m so sorry she’s not here.” I slipped my hand into his, trying to push all my support through our intertwined fingers.

“So am I,” he smiled sadly. “But I have faith that this is one step closer to her being back with us. She’s going to love you, Quinn.”

He pressed a tender kiss to my lips before the smattering of applause started inside the doors. My stomach fluttered at the sound.

“That’s my signal,” he winked at me. “See you in there.” He began to walk towards the side door he had initially slipped through before turning back to me.

“I love you, Quinn. I don’t know if I’ll get the chance to say that inside. These political ceremonies can be a bit dry. But I want you to know that I will spend every day of the rest of our lives showing you that you are the sun around which my world rotates.”

“I love you,” I echoed. “Now go!” I shooed him off with a giggle and waited several minutes before I heard the sound of the processional music begin to play. The double doors opened, and I stepped into the rest of my life.

. . .

The ceremony was as formal as Evander had warned, focusing more on the joining of the two halves of the Crown than on the union of husband and wife. An apology lingered in his eyes every time the officiant said “the king” in lieu of his name, but I didn’t mind. There would be plenty of time for us to celebrate privately. This was for the kingdom. Our kingdom.

My friends’ joyous faces shone from the audience. Even my mother smiled serenely from her seat in the middle of the crowd.

Around them, the room was overflowing with guests; the layer of extra wards around the palace had been lowered for the day to let in villagers and nobles alike. Maddox and her team had been manually searching every entrant and I could see the relief in the set of Evander’s shoulders as he stood across from me, his eyes beacons of love and joy.

The wedding gave way to the coronation, a short affair in which I pledged my loyalty to the people of Enorias and promised to use my magic to serve and protect them. A golden and pearled crown was placed in my hair, lighter than I imagined, and before I knew it, we were standing at the front of the room, taking in the sounds of raucous applause as we were introduced as king and queen of Enorias. I even heard a wolf whistle, which I was fairly sure had come from James, and did my best to hide my amusement and look as regal as possible.

Lastly came the magic tethering ceremony. While the guests were herded to the ballroom for refreshments, Evander and I met with General Finch in one of the empty receiving parlors. I was thankful for the privacy, as Evander had warned me that this particular part of the day was both intimate and a bit jarring, according to what his mother had told him before she fell ill.

“In order to work as a joint conduit for the kingdom’s wards, you need to merge your Gifts with one another,” Finch explained. “Typically the dowager queen would perform the ceremony, but under the current circumstances . . .” he trailed off, meeting Evander’s gaze with pity.

Evander’s jaw clenched as he banished the emotion. I hadn’t known that. My heart sank as I registered that he’d probably always imagined having his mother with him in this moment; General Finch, hard as he tried, was a poor substitute. I reached out and took Evander’s hand, squeezing it gently.

Finch continued awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with the emotionally-charged atmosphere.

“Join both hands–yes, very good. You’ll have to have some patience with me as I attempt the process. I’ve found bits and pieces recorded from your mother and father’s coronation, Your Majesty, but we’ll need to fill in some gaps.”

With this, he began chanting an incantation. I’d read about Wielders using them to magnify their power, but according to the history books I had been studying in preparation for the coronation, they hadn’t been common practice in Enorias for several hundred years.

Finch’s hands hovered above our joined ones as he began to cast. Rather than his signature ice, I felt a soft warmth where we were linked. There was a knock on the door of my mind, so similar to what I had experienced during his joint casting with Vanessa. This time, I flung the entrance open without hesitation.

Evander’s magic swept into the space, and it felt so much like him, as if the essence of this man I had come to love so deeply was melding with my own. The harmony between our Gifts reached new heights as our powers mingled and the world narrowed to the space between us.

I could no longer hear the General’s voice; the only sound in my ears was the echo of that beautiful music the prophecy foretold. Reading the prophecy was one thing; experiencing this felt nothing short of fated. From the awed look on Evander’s face, I knew he felt the same.

After a moment, our magics stopped swirling and settled into a comfortable, intertwined calm. Evander gingerly released his hands, bringing them up to cradle my face. The kiss he pressed to my lips was so soft, so reverent that it felt like a dream.

Finch cleared his throat, bringing me back to reality, and I laughed, wiping tears I didn’t realize I had shed from my face.

“I love you endlessly,” Evander said.

“I love you.”

Much more quickly than I would have liked, I was swept away by Finch, who decided that a few moments after the most pivotal experience of my life was the only time I would be able to make the acquaintance of every higher and lower noble in the kingdom.

Across the room, Evander was on a similar tour with Maddox. He shot me an apologetic smile and mouthed “Good luck” as he was pulled into the ballroom.

The first noblewoman I was wheeled to was introduced as Lady Garrison, the widow of a prominent metallurgist who, from what I could tell, had been running their foundry business with even more success than her late husband in the years since his passing.

Then there were the Viscount and Viscountess of Formere, a seaside province responsible for the majority of Enorias’s fishing industry. My head reeled as I did my best to memorize names, faces, and occupations, suddenly regretting so much time spent on tasting cake flavors when I could’ve been studying for this. I left them with a vague promise to visit Formere in the future, which would’ve sounded lovely if it weren’t for the pit in my stomach that was deepening with every encounter. Whether it was from nerves or the disconcerting new pull on my Gift from the Crown, I didn’t know, but it left me feeling unsettled and on edge.

The next face I met contorted into a grimace for a moment too long before schooling itself into neutrality. The man in question stood tall and aloof, his expensive-looking suit tailored perfectly to his body. His long blonde hair shone in contrast to the dark fabric, and I could find no kindness in his eyes.

“Sir Calix is the Arch-Duke of Marione,” Finch explained. I held my hand out to Calix, but he only sneered down at it before dragging his gaze back up to my face as if I had made some sort of lewd gesture.

“Charmed, I’m sure.” The way his lip curled as he said the words made me feel like sinking into the floor, but I did my best to stand up straight as I returned the sentiment lukewarmly.

“I must admit,” he said, “I wasn’t sure if I should believe the invitation, but of course I had to come see for myself. A peasant girl from a merchant family no one has ever heard of wedding the crown prince?” He stopped just short of scoffing, and my fists clenched.

“King,” I said, jutting my chin out slightly at him. “Evander is king, Sir Calix.” I may not be comfortable advocating for myself, but I had no qualms about defending Evander and demanding he receive the respect he was due. After the hells he endured the last six months, it was the least he deserved.

Besides, I had a feeling that this man’s first impression of me was going to stick, and I had no desire to play into his intimidation tactics.

“Ah yes,” he said absently, “I forget that at times. Such a rushed coronation. Hardly anyone in attendance, I heard. Most of the nobles didn’t even receive word until after the fact. Of course, from what I heard about the ceremony, I’m glad to have missed it.” He raised his eyebrows as if rebuking a naughty child. “Still, it’s hardly the most surprising thing that’s happened in the kingdom this year. When I heard our new queen-to-be was a servant, I nearly fell out of my chair. ”

“The queen was responsible for the apprehension of the assassin,” Finch hedged nervously. It took me a moment to realize he was referring to me. “Her power shows great promise, I assure you.”

“I’m sure,” Calix said, looking down his nose as if sizing me up and finding me wanting. I met his eyes and raised my chin slowly, quirking my eyebrows ever so slightly in challenge. He scoffed almost imperceptibly as he registered the gauntlet I had thrown, and excused himself, feigning concern about “taking up too much of my time.”

As he walked away, I couldn’t decide if he simply thought me below his notice or if he was retreating in his own way.

“Forgive Sir Calix,” Finch said. “He favored his daughter for the throne many years ago, but she never manifested a Gift. His wife is quite talented with scrying, but he isn’t a Wielder himself and I suppose that won out. Always had a bit of a chip on his shoulder about it, if I’m being honest.”

I could hear the explanation as we started walking toward the next group, but Finch’s voice felt far away as panic began to rise in my chest.

My earlier nonchalance about ascending to rule felt so foolish. Love was a mighty force that could overcome many challenges, but it wouldn’t do me any favors in the fields of diplomacy or politics.

Who was I to think I could manage this role? I thought I would have more time to adjust, though I wasn’t sure why. I was assuming the throne during the most fraught climate Enorias had experienced in the last few decades–had I thought that would be simple? Easy? Effortless, even? Of course no one was going to accept me as a ruler. I was stupid for not seeing it earlier.

I fought to keep my breathing regulated as I smiled and nodded at something the man in front of me had said. Another general of some sort, I thought vaguely. A general in an army that I was now in power to command. The idea made me feel dizzy.

Enorias was a small kingdom, but I was quickly realizing that the inner workings of the realm were far more nuanced than I could hope to understand. My mind was stuttering with the sudden realization of how much I didn’t even know I didn’t know, and I felt a strange tension in my chest, like a bowstring pulled taut.

If these brief social interactions left me spiraling, what would I do in my first meeting? When the people I had just vowed to serve and protect needed me to make hard choices and trusted me to make the right ones?

My eyes wandered to the far side of the room, and I saw my mother chatting with a spectacled woman along the perimeter. I caught her eye and gestured to have her join me. Though I was sure she had seen, she returned her gaze to her companion, paying me no notice.

I tried to focus on what the general in front of me was asking, and when I flicked my gaze back to the spot where I saw my mother, she was gone. The man kissed my hand and I was swept away again.

The introductions were endless, a merry-go-round of posturing and vying for dominance. It felt like a personal welcome tour designed to torture me.

Suddenly, I was slammed with the force of something pulling at my magic, like a thread that had been pulled too tightly and finally snapped. An alarm was blaring in my mind, alerting me to a wrongness I couldn’t name.

I reached for logic, something that would explain the way the air was suddenly gone from my lungs, why the edges of my vision began to darken.

The painful burning in my chest gave way to a hollow emptiness that had my heart in my throat. I broke from my conversation without warning or explanation, scanning the room for a face I knew I wouldn’t see.

It was my bond with Evander. And he was gone.

. . .

Whirling around the room frantically, my mind stumbled over itself as I tried to figure out the best course of action. Maddox. I should find Maddox. I pushed my way through the crowd, ignoring the bewildered looks from guests. Tunnel vision made it impossible to process anything that wasn’t Evander or the captain.

I hardly noticed when I barreled right into Vanessa, who grabbed me by my upper arms and steered me off to the side of the room, scanning my face with concern.

“Quinn, what’s going on?”

“Your mother,” I gulped down air, hoping it would lessen the phantom feeling of asphyxiation gripping my throat. “I need to find your mother.”

“Okay. Okay, I can help with that. But first I need you to take a breath and tell me what’s wrong,” she coaxed.

“Evander’s gone,” I managed.

“Gone where?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think it was his choice. I can’t explain it; I just have this feeling in my chest . . . like his magic was stretched thin and then disappeared.”

“All right, I’m going to go find my mother.” She guided me to a chair. “Sit down and take some deep breaths. I’ll bring her back here and you can tell her what you just told me.”

I nodded again numbly as Vanessa squeezed my shoulder before turning and striding into the thick of the celebration.

Calm. I had to remain calm. It had been a long day, and the sudden tethering of my magic to the Crown was disorienting, to say the least.

I tried to tell myself that everything was fine, that Evander would emerge from around the corner at any moment, even as I knew he wouldn’t. Though I couldn’t explain why, I had never been more certain of anything in my life. Something was very, very wrong.

Counting my breaths, I scanned the crowd again for Vanessa and Maddox. It had already been longer than I anticipated, and the wait wasn’t helping my rising fear. But I couldn’t fall apart now. I had to be coherent to help.

A familiar face came into my line of sight. My mother’s eyes creased with concern when she saw me sitting alone.

“Darling, what are you doing over here? Is everything all right?”

I smiled weakly at her, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. Something about the slight softening in her gaze weakened my resolve, and I found myself cracking around the edges, vision going blurry.

Mother rushed over to me, pulling me to standing and placing her arm around my shoulders.

“Let’s get you out of here,” she said. “You don’t want to give these vultures another reason to pick you apart.” I looked around and noticed for the first time how many eyes were on me, witnessing me panic. Dancing couples had stopped twirling to watch me, and I heard whispers behind hands all over the room.

Ushering me toward the door, Mother cast a quick glance over her shoulder.

“Vanessa is coming back,” I managed to get out. “I need to wait for her.”

“She sent me,” Mother assured. “We’ll go somewhere more private, and she’ll meet us there.”

I nodded, hoping my shields would do something to hide us from the crowds as we headed to the door. Mother was right. No one could see me like this.

Her grip on my shoulder tightened uncomfortably as she steered me down the hall. We passed one, two, three, four doors before veering into a small parlor I didn’t recognize. There were so many rooms in the vast castle I’d never even entered; yet another way I was underprepared.

When I crossed the threshold, Mother released her grip on me, backing up toward the door and locking it behind us.

“Mother?”

She ignored me entirely, focusing her gaze on the other side of the room.

“I did as you asked,” she said, her posture rigid.

“Excellent work, Wilomena,” came a rough voice from the shadows. “Now we can begin.”