The Rise of Deragon (The Deragon Duology #2)

54

Pandora

J ericho granted every stipulation from that fateful day in Broadcove, all without saying a word to me. Madden likely coordinated all the details with him, but for all sakes and purposes, Jericho Deragon did not exist anymore—and for now, it was better that way.

In two months, Mosacia went from a monopolized land to a free one. Jericho issued formal decrees—the final communications from the U. Herald in a land that was no longer theirs—that ownership and governance would be returned to a member of the Seagrave line and that the Hive’s forces would no longer occupy residence in Mosacia. Celebrations littered the streets, and when Madden and I sailed back to the Isle and Andromeda House to tell Andie the news, we could hear some of them along the coast.

Then came the symposium—the first one in Mosacia in over twenty years—where Madden laid all his cards on the table. The mutual treachery, the Morgana Grave Agreement henceforth proceeding as the Andromeda Accords, and, lastly, me. My role in helping reclaim Mosacia’s independence, my negotiations, and, of course, my relationship with Madden.

Which brings me here, to my long-awaited tribunal.

Something about standing in the same courtroom that would’ve sentenced me to death but now having its congregants looking to me with reverence hits me like a blow. That, and knowing Madden stands yards away, his father’s crown once more restored upon the brow of a family member.

“I’d like to first extend my gratitude to you, the tribunal, for welcoming me here with open-mindedness and hospitality. Your kindness is not lost on me, and it is the highest honor to speak to you today.”

Polite applause arises in the room, and I smile uncomfortably at the reception. Something eases in my chest at the sights and sounds around me, and when I look back at Madden to verify if this is all real, he mouths, “ Keep going, angel.”

“Let me start by assuring you that to anyone still uncomfortable with my presence in your beautiful nation, I understand and I empathize with you. Take whatever time you need to adjust, but please know, I have found an unparalleled adoration for this continent in the time I’ve spent here—and I can only imagine how much more it’ll grow over the years I’m granted to spend with your king.”

The remark earns me some feminine coos and male sighs across the courtroom. “For any who may be wondering, I shall only rule if Madden asks me to. But should that come to pass,” I say, unable to deny myself the hopeful smile that blooms across my lips. Because we know it’ll be a reality someday. Someday soon , considering the sapphire ring he presented me with three nights ago that threatens to burn a hole in my dress pocket. “The Deragon name will not remain with me. I will vow myself to this land, to him, and to the duties required by me as your monarch.

“For now, I act as the newest Mosacian Emissary, tasked to help renovate communication efforts throughout the different tribes. It’s a role that I do not take lightly and hold close to my heart for several reasons. But chief among them, I prepare to work in your favor in honor of a girl named Marzipan.”

My throat bobs at the memory of her smile, still fresh in my mind from our talk last night, when Heart Punisher had pricked my finger and I dropped my blood into the Damocles coastline.

“I know it may be hard to comprehend—and with time in this role, I aim to properly explain its complexities—but Marzipan possessed the incredible gift of speaking every language known to man, one she has since passed down to me in death.”

Every onlooker goes quiet, and I will myself not to clam up at the unwavering attention my revelation brings.

“It was Marzipan’s intention to use that skill-set to unite Mosacia in the understanding of love, supernatural and human—and it has since become mine, too. She was the dearest friend I had ever known, despite our nationality divisions or how short of a time we shared together, and I want to honor her memory in the way I plan to honor all of you.”

Slowly, I shut my eyes, pushing past any fears of coming across as performative or preachy or aggressive—and I tell them, “There is a divine presence that longs to tell you that we are loved here on earth. It has never left you, and so long as I’m alive, I will not allow it to remain hidden.”

And then, I repeat the sentiment in every Mosacian language my blessing recalls.

Section by section, the courtroom starts to stir with movement. Members of the crowd begin to whisper to one another or stifle tears that spring forth, while others cross their arms over their chest and speculate whether I’m speaking truth or rattling these things from memory. And that’s alright. I never expected to convince everyone, and I have plenty of time down the road to keep trying.

“Mosacian women hold so much power, and for many of them, their sacrifices changed the course of history. All that I will do as Emissary has been made possible because of Marzipan. The very existence of the Deragon Dynasty came to be because of Greer Seagrave’s convictions, even if some of you believe her trust was misplaced. If it weren’t Diana Seagrave’s choice to instigate chaos, we might still be in an era of perpetual disagreement.

“And as for the man I stand ready to support in all realms,” I say, looking back at Madden with such overwhelming love. “His love for me is no doubt inspired by the love his mothers, Harriet and Maia, showed him, as well as the devotion he gave his sister, Annabelle.”

I watch as eyes in the crowd drift towards Madden, sensing the change in his disposition. I know he thinks back on it, the moment we ran like bats out of hell towards Annabelle’s grave, the way we both fell to our knees before her headstone. Loving Sister, Radiant Daughter . Laid to rest at her sister’s side—a final honoring Venus insisted on bestowing Greer. Kellan had broken his once most unconditional rule of forsaking Urovia entirely to memorialize her here. Everything about that moment tore us to shreds, because for all the hatred between our two bloodlines, there also proved to be a great deal of deep-rooted respect.

“I know I’m not a true Mosacian, but I am honored beyond measure to be adopted into your culture,” I pronounce. “And I only hope that I can be half as exemplary as all the women who paved this path before me.”

I barely get the words thank you out before the crowd erupts again, and I step down from the podium. I dare not turn my back on them as I do, a symbolic reminder of what they faced when the Morgan Dynasty became Deragon. Madden’s arms stroke my own, his warmth enveloping me.

“You did beautifully,” he whispers in an almost sing-song manner.

“Thank you, Madam Emissary,” the High Judge calls out, taking my previous spot before the court. “Before we depart, His Majesty has requested we bear witness to a ceremony of citizenship. May I have the candidate please come forward?”

I hear the creaking of the chair before I see the person rise, and suddenly, it doesn’t matter who’s watching or what any of them have to say.

Not as Mother and I run towards each other with reckless abandon, gracelessly slamming into each other when the distance is fully crossed. We practically claw at one another, tears staining our cheeks and laughter spilling out of us like wine. I think I could die like this—clinging to my mom while Madden looks onto the both of us with such admiration.

The crowd likely pieces it together, but before my mother formally addresses the room, she gently whispers, “Ren’s sitting in the back row trying to be inconspicuous. Feel free to terrorize him.”

“I mean, if you insist—”

I’m moving at the speed of light towards the back of the room, Madden’s laughter following me all the way there. Ren rolls his eyes and stands, figuring I’ll stop in my tracks before crashing into him, too. But no. Shamelessly, I throw myself at him, and instinctively, Ren envelopes me in a manner that reminds me of a new father learning how to cradle a baby’s head.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Pandora.” I hear the smile in his greeting.

“Thank you,” I say instead of hello.

He releases an unsteady breath when I grip him harder. “For what?”

I hear the faint accent in Ren’s voice and realize it’s not just me Mother is gaining citizenship for. The realization pulls at my heartstrings in a way that makes my next words come out choked. “For saving my mom.”

“Don’t you remember?” he whispers back. “Your mother was the one who saved me.”

The High Judge bangs his gavel in attempts to get everyone’s attention and reel in the excitement. He sighs as the noise slowly trickles back into cooperative silence. “Thank you. Now, please state your name before the court.”

My mother quickly remedies her posture. “Geneva.”

“ Full name.”

“Geneva Satare,” she amends casually. And my jaw drops into hell.