CHAPTER 67

AUREN TURLEY

When we return to Lydia , I help make repairs to some of the buildings that were partially burned from the Stone Swords setting fire to the city. My gold now envelops some of them, corners swathed and doors patched with gleaming metal. The trees weren't burned too badly, though some are charred, branches stripped or fallen away.

The Lydians settle back into their homes, while the Vulmin and Oreans try to determine their next steps.

And Slade and I determine ours.

We're sitting at one of the outdoor tables along the street, in front of a pretty servette that reminds me of Estelia and Thursil back in Geisel.

Slade, Elore, Wick, and I sit together. The tables look like they've been hewn out of some sort of pale blue gemstone that's been polished and smoothed. The matching chairs are surprisingly light, their backs wickered like a woven basket, with plump cushions on the seats. Every time the breeze blows in, the little glowing blue bulbs that hang above us at the building's eave tinkle together.

Slade is relaxed back in his chair beside me, hand clasped around a steaming drink. His mother sits at his left, and he's ordered every single thing from the display window for her. Every fruit-topped tart, every rolled and sugared bun. Her eyes went wide as saucers, but she's since sampled every plate, and she looks so content that my heart squeezes for her.

I sip on my own warm and bubbled drink, watching people walk by or stop at the market carts across the street. Boats drift along in the canal just ahead, while birds sing above us in the trees.

My wings are slightly stretched out, and every so often, Slade runs a finger down them, making me shiver.

A couple of fae walk past us, and they smile at me with a wave. I smile back, my lips still curved even after they've disappeared from view. "This is so peaceful, isn't it?" I say, turning to look at everyone. "To just sit here in the sun with food and drink, and watch everyone go by."

"It is," Slade says as he places a hand on my leg and squeezes gently.

He hasn't stopped touching me, and I haven't stopped touching him either. The both of us are constantly reaching out in comforting caresses to help settle the aftershocks of the horrors that happened. To reassure each other that we're no longer cleaved apart by death.

"The trick is to keep it peaceful," Wick says as he sets down his own drink and looks between us. He's been quiet. Chewing on something more than the food, and when he glances at me, I know he's ready to divulge.

"I'm going to propose that Annwyn do away with the monarchy. That we form an assemblage instead," he says, straightening in his chair.

His expression is serious but impassioned, and I can tell he's probably been thinking of nothing but Annwyn's future since I abdicated taking the crown.

"We can spread the word all over Annwyn. Invite fae to come to Lydia and help create new laws. Anyone who wishes to put themself forward as a member of the assemblage can formally insert their name, and we'll put it to the people for a vote. We'll put everything to vote."

I smile. "I think that's a very good idea."

"It will take time," Slade cautions.

"That's okay," Wick replies. "We need to get it right. That's why the assemblage will be so important. It will allow for both fae and Orean voices to be heard. Vulmin and non-Vulmin. And not just nobles. It will be fair—and full of passionate people who can help us solve the issues and keep an eye on every corner of Annwyn. No more tyranny and the risk of one person with all control. We all know that having too much power can turn even those with the best intentions into a glutton for more. So we restore the old territory lines. Let the people have a say in their lives. We do better."

"We do better." I nod in agreement, happiness warming my chest. "I'm proud of you, Wick."

He shifts in his chair, like he's surprised but pleased at my response.

It would've been easy for him to just claim the throne. After all, he has the Turley name and blood. He has the Vulmin following. But for him to recognize Annwyn needs to try a different way shows me that he really does have Annwyn's best interest at heart instead of his own play for power. I couldn't be prouder.

"Yes, well…I've learned some things. From a certain broken-winged bird who learned how to fly."

That warmth in me spreads, and I can see tentative hope in his own expression. His russet skin is still bruised, but healing. His muddy eyes are illuminated, as if he's already looking toward a brighter future.

"Peace can be difficult to enact," Slade says as he sets down his drink. "But it's also difficult to keep. Eventually, peace always deteriorates."

Wick nods. "It does. And one day, someone like the Carricks may emerge again—someone who will attempt to take control. But in the meantime, we do better and hope that for generations and generations, we keep doing better. We make Annwyn peaceful…for as long as we can."

I pick up my drink. "Here's to keeping the peace."

All four of us clink our cups together before setting them down, and then Wick looks to me. He seems relieved now that he's told us his plans, like he's ready to take on the world. "I also want to formally ask that you and Slade become the first members of the assemblage."

I suck in a breath, indecision warring through me as I glance at Slade for a second. "I don't know…"

"You don't have to give me an answer now," Wick hurries to say. "But I want you to have a voice. There won't be any requirement to do anything you don't wish. But when you do want to give input or address concerns, being on the assemblage gives you that opportunity. It's because of you and Slade that Annwyn is getting this second chance in the first place. So just…think about it."

Slade and I exchange another look before I answer. "Okay. We'll think about it."

Wick nods and gets up from the table. "I'll catch up with you later," he says before he turns and leaves.

"What do you think?" I ask Elore.

Her gaze moves from Wick's retreating form, back to me, and then she gives the smallest nod, her lips curling in a smile.

"Yeah," I reply. "I think so too."

Just then, one of the Orean women I released from the dungeon cells walks up along the road beside us. She's one of the Drollard villagers that Slade and I are taking care of, making sure they have everything they need as they recover. Slade is incredibly attentive to them all.

Her eyes light up as she stops. "Elore!" she says in greeting. "We're going down to the river for a boat ride. Would you like to come?" Her face is still healing from the whip mark across her cheek, but it's already looking so much better.

Elore nods and gets up from her chair. She leans over to pop a kiss on top of Slade's head before she walks away. The woman smiles at me, and the two of them head for the water.

"You think she'll be okay?" I ask Slade quietly.

He watches his mother as she and the woman stroll down the street. "She's strong," he says, though I can hear the underlying layer of regret. "We're here now, and he's gone. I hope, with enough time, she can heal. Be happy."

I nod, but my chest constricts. "It's hard though, isn't it?" I say softly. "We're sitting here surrounded by sunshine and beauty, without danger or problems breathing down our necks for once. But how can we even really enjoy it when we don't know if the others are okay?"

Slade stays quiet, but I see his own worry tangled in the shadows of his green eyes.

"I can't imagine how you and your poor mother must be feeling about being cut off from Ryatt," I say, sadness wetting my eyes. "Your Wrath are your family, and we're cut off from them too. Cut off from your whole kingdom. I mean…you're a king in Orea, and here…"

"My Premiers will lead. Fourth is better off without me. Once I found you, my priorities changed," he says with a lift of his shoulder. "I'm not saying I regret that, I'm just stating a truth. Fourth is in good hands— better hands—with Isalee and Warken."

"I miss everyone so much," I confess as I look at him, my stomach twisting with the bitter taste of separation. "And we'll never know—any of it. If they're okay. If they defeated Carrick." I sniff, like I'm trying to pull my sadness right back in. "We'll never get to see them again. Your brother, Lu, Osrik, Judd, Digby, Rissa…none of them. And I'll never know what happened to Emonie either. We're just…cut off." I press my fingers to my eyes, wiping at the tears. "It's a grim side to this peace."

"It is," Slade replies quietly, his eyes drawn. "It's a hard reality to swallow." His gaze moves through the trees and focuses on the plateau we can see in the distance. Glassworth Palace sits there, empty and full of color.

Color, and smoke.

Wick sent a large group of Vulmin to deal with the dead soldiers and Cull's rotting corpse…and also Slade's dragon.

That beautiful, formidable creature that felt exactly like Slade. That flew us through the sky. It was taken from him after he'd only just gotten it.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly, and his eyes come back to mine.

I hate that he lost his dragon, especially because I know what it's like to lose a part of yourself like that. For someone to come in and take it away from you.

Slade leans forward and takes my hand between both of his. "You are the most important part of myself. So long as I have you, I'm whole."

My eyes tear up and threaten to spill over, while his fingers bracket mine, surrounding me with his warmth.

"We're going to savor each other, okay?" he says softly. "We're going to tell ourselves that everyone in Orea is alright, because we have to. And they'll be doing the very same thing with us. That's how we'll get through the separation. That's how we keep going."

I nod. "You're right."

There's always going to be this bitter to our sweet. A sharp edge to our smoothed surface. I'm going to miss them all. Desperately. But Slade is right. We'll just have to have faith that they're okay, and savor each other.

Because we've lost so much, and we've been given so much.

Sometimes, that's just how life is. Sacrifice in grace, loss within the victory, scar after the heal.

But we have each other.

I press a kiss against his knuckles before settling our hands down on my lap. We sit here for a while in the quiet, our thoughts gathering like strings that drift around our heads and stick together like webs.

"So, I guess we have to figure out what's next for us," I say as I reach for my cup and swirl it around, watching the bubbles rise in perfect streams. "You're not a king, I'm not a queen, and we're here in the fae realm together. But…what now?"

Slade props his elbow on the arm of the chair, thumb dragging against his bottom lip as he watches me. The spikes on his arm are on display, though he's pulled in the ones at his back. Instead of wearing army leathers or the ill-fitting trousers, he has a deep green jerkin and black pants on that actually fit him.

He looks so wickedly handsome it makes my pulse jump.

"Well, you gave an answer to that for Annwyn. Now, I think it's time you give an answer for you ," he finally says.

"Us," I correct.

"Always us," he agrees. "But I told you before, Goldfinch. I want you to have whatever life you want," he tells me, his voice dropping lower. "Whether that's to travel the world or hide away in a cabin in the woods…"

My breath catches in my chest as I recognize the words we spoke before, inside the walls of a carriage. Right before we did very inappropriate things right there along the street in Fourth Kingdom.

"If you want to climb a mountain or build something with your own hands or sit in a pub or play music or spend all day making love…" His low tone drags against my heated skin. "But I am yours and you are mine, and I will always make sure that you get what you need."

My heart skips, my cheeks warmed by far more than the sun. "So the question isn't what now . The question is…what do you want now?" he asks.

"I want…" I swallow hard.

Slade reaches forward to brush a lock of my hair away from my face. "Tell me."

My truth sits right there, so I let it spill out. "I want to take you to Geisel. I want to introduce you to the fae there who helped me. Want to show you the field of flowers where Saira Turley and I both fell."

His lips curve, following the slow drag of his finger against my neck, nearly touching my scale. "What else, Goldfinch?"

"I want to eat Estelia's puff cakes. At least a dozen of them."

He breaks out into a full grin. "At least," he says with a nod. "What else?"

"I want to…"

"Tell me," he says again, urging me on.

"I want to go back to Bryol," I admit quietly with a tremor in my voice. "I want to see if there's a way we can rebuild it. I hate that it's just left there in ruins. I know it will probably take a lot, and I'm sure we'll have to talk to someone, and maybe it's stupid, but—"

Slade grips my chin, stopping me. "That's not stupid, Auren. If you want to rebuild the city where you grew up, where you last saw your parents, then that's what we'll do. Brick by brick if we have to." His touch moves to clasp the side of my face. "We have all the time in the world. Every day is going to be our one day . Spending it however we want. Okay?"

A tear drips down my cheek in both relief and gratitude. I'm not sure why I'd been so nervous telling him about Bryol. I should know better than that. Because Slade always reacts exactly how I need him to. He's my other half—he knows the direction my heart beats. He always has.

"I love you," I murmur.

"I love you more than all the stars in the sky, Goldfinch." He presses a kiss against my lips. "So let's go to Geisel and Bryol. When do you want to leave?"

A happy smile takes over my face. "As soon as we can."