64. Chapter Sixty-Four

Chapter Sixty-Four

W eeks became months, and six months after they’d taken back the city from the army of monsters, Zylah and Holt returned to the palace grounds for the first council meeting, every member elected by the citizens of Astaria.

A council of twenty-four members, human and Fae. Two familiar faces sat amongst the newly chosen leaders: Nye and Saphi. Though Nye had once told Zylah she hadn’t wanted to take her parents’ position leading the Aquaris Court, that she had too much living to do, she’d slipped into her political role well. Saphi too, the Fae’s experience of being indoctrinated by the priestesses and the years that followed making her a perfect representative for their kind.

They had both encouraged Zylah to run for a council position, given her unique experience of having lived as both human and Fae. And when she’d politely declined, they hadn’t pushed the matter. She’d considered doing it in her brother’s name, considered all the things she should be doing because he could not. But she also knew he would want her to focus on healing, hers and Holt’s.

Rose fidgeted at Zylah’s side, a knee-length dress revealing her repaired arrenium leg, courtesy of Okwata and his blacksmith friends, the two Yzdrit.

“I’m more nervous than she is,” the Fae said, smoothing her hands over the hem of crimson silk. Entirely inappropriate for a council meeting, but they were all in the same predicament today.

Zylah chuckled. “I thought you saw it go well?”

“You know as well as I do, my visions aren’t always wholly accurate.” Rose blew out a breath, pressing her hands to her cheeks before whispering, “I’m so proud of her.”

They all were. And though Zylah hadn’t known exactly when it happened, she was proud of Rose, too. Holt’s gratitude flared in her chest, his thumb brushing against the small of her back underneath her shawl. The three of them had made their peace over Raif, but it wasn’t him that had brought them closer together. They all shared the pain of losing a sibling, and there was comfort in not being alone in their grief.

Raif might have considered it protection, keeping her in Ranon’s maze, might have cared deeply for Holt just as Rose had said. The vampire had described himself as a parasite, had known he was every bit his mother’s making. Zylah tried to believe he’d truly wanted to atone for his actions, that perhaps he’d understood he’d failed in his attempts at mending everything he’d broken.

And for better or worse, Zylah had found a sister of sorts in Rose. She’d put aside all that Raif had done, for Rose’s sake, to see him only as the Fae’s brother; to share the loss of her own. It wasn’t perfect. Some days the anger still threatened to surface. But Zylah wasn’t afraid to feel it now, to feel all of it, because she knew that on the days she did, she wasn’t alone.

In the newly repaired courtyard where Arnir had once sat on a vanquicite throne, the twenty-four councillors each delivered their promises to Astaria, to those that had been invited to witness the first meeting. Humans and Fae alternated, Nye speaking on military matters, the success of the combined army, the training programmes she and the Aquaris Court were hoping to roll out across the continent to any who wished to join. Saphi spoke of the priestesses, perhaps a more delicate subject than most, given how deeply ingrained Pallia had become in the lives of humans as one of their deities. But it was a beginning, and change took time.

Beside Holt, Ahrek fussed over something on Okwata’s chair, the latter swatting him away to observe the proceedings. They’d been instrumental in putting the council together, coordinating arrangements for the elections, though it had not been without its fair share of challenges.

Holt had been instrumental, too. So much of his life’s work had led to this, and Zylah knew it was with no small amount of awe and pride that he watched each councillor deliver their promises, though she didn’t miss the tension running through him, as if he were waiting for some misstep, for a fight to break out, or worse.

Everyone’s going to behave. She glanced up at him, the corner of her mouth twitching as she tried to hide her smile. I’ve promised to set Kej on them if they make us late for the ceremony.

He arched a brow at her, fighting his own smile as his eyes darted about the crowd. There are some here who would pay good money to see that.

Zylah smiled at him then, unable to contain her pride at all he’d achieved. She took in the way the shadows had gone from beneath his eyes, his freshly shaven face, the fine cut of his dark navy suit over his muscled arms. We definitely need more excuses to wear fine clothes.

Agreed. His gaze settled on her mouth, his thumb dragging across the low back of her gown, barely brushing her skin, an image of precisely what he wished they were doing instead passing down the bond and heating her blood.

Applause broke out across the courtyard, the councillors smiling and shaking hands, and Rose whistled at Zylah’s side, pulling her attention away from Holt. Saphi grinned back at them all as the crowd began to move. Her first meeting had come to a close. And a successful one at that. Beyond the palace walls, cheers erupted, which meant if they didn’t all get moving, they truly were going to be late.

Though it had been the site of so much bloodshed, the palace grounds had been transformed for a wedding, delicate flowers wrapping around every piece of white marble, weaving through every hedge and along every path, rows and rows of seats laid out upon the terrace.

Holt led Zylah past the sea of unfamiliar faces, both human and Fae, hundreds and hundreds of them dressed in their finest. He led her down the aisle followed by Rose and Saphi, Okwata and Ahrek at their backs.

When they reached the first row, Cirelle greeted them all like they were her own, showing them to their seats, an empty space beside Ahrek perfectly sized for Okwata’s chair. The High Lord stood at the centre of an arch of flowers looking wholly out of place, Kej at his side.

Next to Kej, Arlan gave a small, nervous wave. Quiet fell over the rows of seats, a cluster of musicians somewhere amongst them playing a beautiful melody as the crowd stood, most of them stretching up on their toes for any sight of the bride.

Nye led her cousin down the aisle, Kej already crying as Rin approached her groom, despite the fact that they’d already had their Fae ceremony back at the Aquaris Court, despite the fact that this was a very elaborate, very human wedding suggested by Nye to share with the citizens, to give them all something to celebrate together. Kopi hooed from somewhere among the gardens, a flurry of sprites darting up from the trees beyond the archway. Malok officiated as Rin and Arlan said their vows, as Nye handed over rings and Kej bound their hands with silk.

Zylah felt Holt’s attention on her face as she wiped away a tear. You’re supposed to be watching them, not me. She glanced up, her heart squeezing at the softness in his eyes, the warmth. His hand had never left her knee; his gaze had never left her face.

I like this view much better. Besides, this is the memory I’d rather keep. He traced the slit along her thigh, and Zylah swallowed down the tightness in her throat at his words. At the way he treasured every moment together, every memory they made. Just as she did.

Music began again, and Zylah tore her gaze away from his face to see Rin and Arlan kiss, the crowd already on their feet clapping and cheering, Kej whooping the loudest of all.

Zylah caught the way Nye’s attention had settled across the gardens, and she couldn’t blame her friend’s momentary lapse in concentration. The palace looked a little different since the fighting; extensive repairs had changed it from the way Zylah remembered it. But the memories still lingered.

So many had died there, Zack included, and Zylah knew Nye had taken his death much harder than she’d ever admit. Still, she’d made sure to tell her friend how proud Zack would be of everything she’d achieved, of her position as councillor and all the work she’d done uniting humans and Fae. She knew, in part, Nye did it for him. Because he would have no doubt run for councillor, too. But Zylah shoved aside those thoughts for the rest of the proceedings, intent on soaking up the joy of the day, the buzz of the crowd.

After a meal and many, many toasts, the customary human dances Zylah had witnessed so many times before, she stood at the edge of the terrace, speaking quietly with Sira and Arioch. The Seraphim had forgone wearing his new wings, though Zylah knew from Sira’s updates he’d barely been without them since Okwata and the blacksmiths had finalised the design. He’d taken the news of losing his daughter quietly, and despite what she’d first thought, his mind had been affected by his time in Ranon’s maze, his recollection of events prior to his imprisonment not wholly accurate. Self-preservation, no doubt, and still, Zylah marvelled at his strength.

Sira’s integration back into society had not been as easy; she’d had to change her name, had still not quite adjusted to busy spaces. The pair offered up a quiet goodbye, and Zylah turned her attention to farther along the terrace where Kej danced, Daizin’s shadows wrapping around his arms to pull him in for a kiss.

Holt joined her just as Rin and Arlan stepped out onto the terrace, Nye following them with a tray of drinks. Rose and Saphi made their way over, bright smiles on both their faces.

Kej pulled away from Daizin’s embrace to beam at his sister, scooping a glass off the tray and raising it in a toast. “To a perfect second wedding,” he began, raising his glass. “Here’s to many more, with just as much free wine.”

Arlan laughed, but Rin elbowed her brother. “The wine isn’t free, idiot, we paid for all of it.”

“Well then, excellent choice, sis.”

Zylah raised the glass Nye had passed to her. “To both of you. Thank you for letting us share this day with you.”

Arlan’s eyes were on his wife as she drank to the toast.

“And to absent friends,” Nye added.

Kej raised a new glass, the first already drained. “And an abundance of wine.”

“You’ve already toasted the wine, Prince.” Daizin prised the glass from Kej’s fingers and placed it on a passing tray carried by an attendant.

Nye spoke quietly with Rin and Arlan as Kej and Daizin bickered, Rose and Saphi breaking away to dance together. Zylah couldn’t help her smile as she and Holt looked out across the gardens together.

“Does this qualify?” he asked quietly, leaning his elbows on the wall that bordered the gardens.

“Qualify for what?”

He raised his glass, pausing before he took a sip. “For your perfect day.”

Zylah loosed a breath, thinking back to their night atop the belltower and everything she’d described to him. There was nothing looming over them now. No Ranon. No Aurelia. No vampires and monsters. Humans and Fae were working to coexist peacefully, though it would still take some time to get right. Fae were opting to forgo any deceits to hide their features, more and more of them coming out from the quiet corners of Astaria each day. They were truly free, and all of it because he’d had a dream he’d never given up on.

“Close enough,” she whispered.

A few sprites danced from hedge to hedge, and Holt hummed at her side. He held out his hand, the movement tugging his sleeve up and revealing the bracelet she’d given him at his wrist. A ripple of his magic passed over the sprites, but the creatures remained unharmed, and Zylah’s eyes shot up to his.

He’d been practising. Not only had he protected the sprites from the effects of his magic, but he’d dispersed the euphoric effect it had once had on him, too. Just as she’d been teaching him.

Zylah threw her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss against his scar before pulling back to look at him. “Now it’s perfect.”

Holt summoned two more glasses of wine. “Before Kej drinks us dry.” He raised his glass to Zylah’s, his smile bright, so much love and hope in his eyes it had her swallowing the lump in her throat. “To finding each other,” he said, his arm sliding around her waist to tuck her against him, the echo of everything she felt tumbling from him in waves.

Kopi chirped, taking off from the wall to fly out over the gardens, the setting sun turning him into nothing more than a tiny, elated shadow as they watched him disappear into the dusk. Behind them, their friends laughed at something Kej said, the sound of their happiness like chiming bells in the warm evening air.

Zylah rested her head against Holt’s chest, her heart full, at peace. Listened to her mate’s steady heartbeat, a sound she would never, ever take for granted. She breathed in his earthy acani berry scent and touched her glass gently against his, her voice thick with everything she felt.

For him. For their friends. For the ones they’d lost.

For this moment together. “To living free.”