Epilogue

Greyson peeked over his shoulder at his husband. Cyrus sat at the table, reading the book Jade had sent. Poofy orange flowers filled Greyson's favorite cup—a gift from his husband. It had been six months since they'd married, but Greyson hadn't quite gotten used to it.

The last six months had been amazing. He'd feared Cyrus would grow bored with the simple life here, but Greyson had underestimated his curiosity for everything. Cyrus had flourished, rebuilding his relationship with Widow Abney and forging new ones with the villagers. Julia and her wife Victoria had moved to Drakcombe with their two children. Charles Davies was back to hating Greyson, but the couple had become solid friends with him and Cyrus.

Annabeth had not liked living in the same village as Cyrus, so she moved to the coast. Greyson had been sad to lose her friendship, but he hoped she'd come around eventually. Elizabeth visited frequently. Even Liam had come for a short visit. They had introduced Liam to Lady Lyra, and she'd taken an interest. Greyson did not think she would leave Woodhurst anytime soon. The small village was alive with people and students for Greyson to teach, and he loved it.

Not everything had been perfect. They'd fought, of course, about several different things but usually resolved whatever was the matter after a bit. They were still working through all the issues of their past, but Greyson was almost positive they'd be dismantling what stood between them until they died, and he was alright with that.

The main contention between them was the vial of poison. Cyrus wanted to get rid of it, and Greyson asserted it was a waste to do so. Besides, they couldn't dump it in the river without killing a ton of fish, animals, and plants, not to mention polluting the area, nor could they bury it in case the glass bottle broke and poison seeped out. No, for now, they'd compromised; it sat, gathering dust, in the secret cubby in the cabinet.

Cyrus kept reading the book, completely engrossed. Smiling, Greyson put a couple of cinnamon buns, slathered with icing, on a plate. He sat next to Cyrus and prodded the plate in between them. Cyrus finally looked up from the book.

"Cinnamon buns? They look amazing, Grey."

"Thanks." He picked up one and the icing dripped onto his fingers. They took forever to make so Greyson didn't bake them often, but he hadn't made them for Cyrus yet, and he had a promise to keep, even if Cyrus didn't remember. Biting into it, the sweet icing clung to his face as the warm spice danced along his tongue.

Cyrus bit into the bun, then released a loud groan before shoving half of it into his mouth. "These are amazing," he said while chewing. "I like hotcakes better, but I can see why they're your favorite."

He paused mid-bite. Greyson didn't think he'd ever told Cyrus they were his favorite, at least not during a time he could remember. Chewing quickly, he asked, "Where'd you hear that?"

"You told me." Cyrus licked his fingers.

Brow furrowed, Greyson tried to think through the last six months.

"Why don't you make them more often?"

"They take too long."

"You should teach me, and I'll make them for you."

Greyson scoffed. Since they'd come home, Cyrus had insisted on cooking. It had not gone well. Cyrus couldn't cook a meal to save his life. Greyson figured they were better off if he did all the cooking; not to mention, the cabin was more likely to survive.

A sudden kiss on his cheek drew his attention to Cyrus. "I promised I'd help Widow Abney this afternoon," he said. "You're not checking the traps today, right?"

He fought the urge to roll his eyes or snap back. Cyrus did not like Greyson wandering too far by himself, just in case. He still did it, of course. These were his mountains, and Greyson refused to be afraid of bounty hunters who may or may not attack him.

"No," he replied. "I'm taking Lily Jones out herb hunting tomorrow. We'll check the traps then."

His mother's ring hadn't chosen Ruth Davies as he'd hoped, but instead, chose Lily Jones, which shouldn't have surprised him. Greyson's mother had been a healer and so was Lily. He was trying to teach her all he knew, but eventually, if Lily wanted to be a true healing mage she would have to go to the capital.

"I'm glad," Cyrus said. "Well, I will be back later." He flashed Greyson a smile and snagged another cinnamon bun before he left.

After the door closed, he made a pot of tea. Tea and another cinnamon bun plus Cyrus' new book seemed like an excellent way to spend the remainder of his afternoon, especially while the light remained bright enough for him to read. Once the tea finished, Greyson settled down with a cup. Opening the book, he began to read when a knock sounded.

A frown immediately pulled on his lips. No one ever knocked on his door. It was an unspoken rule. Greyson would train people and help anyone with what they needed, but it was always done in the village. He was not social by nature and liked his space. Marrying Cyrus had not changed that. Now, Cyrus was included in that space. The only time people came to his door was for emergencies. He'd already gone to the village this morning, training a new crop of students like he usually did during the summer months.

The air left his lungs as the floor dropped out beneath him. What if something had happened to Cyrus?

Leaping up, Greyson raced to the door and flung it open. The man outside his door jerked back. Greyson's mouth fell open.

"Are you going to let me in, Mage Greyson?" Emperor Caspian asked.

"Sorry, I'm shocked to see you in front of my house," Greyson quipped.

He had not expected to see Cyrus' uncle in the Griseo Mountains. The only time Emperor Caspian had been in the Griseo Mountains, to Greyson's knowledge, was when he and Cyrus stood in the center of Woodhurst and declared the rebellion over after they had already surrendered. Since his and Cyrus' marriage, Cyrus had continued to write to his aunt and cousin, and they wrote back, but there had been complete silence from the emperor.

Moving from the doorway, Greyson said, "Come in."

Greyson slowly stepped back, hands curling into fists. He had not mentally prepared to see the emperor, and the old anger for the man boiled under his skin. He took a deep breath to control the sensation. As much as he hated the emperor, he was Cyrus' uncle, and if Greyson killed him, it would hurt Cyrus. Though, he could not stop the violent thoughts circling his mind.

Baby steps, he told himself.

"Where is your staff?"

"Why? Planning on breaking it?"

The emperor frowned, furrowing his wrinkled face. Greyson loathed to think it, but Cyrus resembled his uncle. Same golden-blonde hair, blue eyes, and a long nose, but the emperor had thinner lips and an oval face. There was also an air of authority that hung about the emperor like a cloak.

"I want to make sure you aren't going to kill me."

"It's right there by the door," Greyson said, gesturing.

The emperor came inside flanked by two mages, one of whom was familiar to him.

"Frederick," Greyson called out to the tall man with pitch-black hair and pale, gray-tinged skin that marked him for who he was—a Griseo Mountain native. "Pleasant to see you. I don't know your friend."

"I'm Mage Opal," she said with a slight bow, white-blonde hair falling over her slim shoulder. "It"s an honor to meet you."

His eyebrows raised; not many capital mages thought meeting him was an honor. Some would not even call him ‘mage' because he had no formal training.

"Mage Frederick has told many stories about you. Can you truly summon lightning?" she asked, awe lining her voice.

The urge to roll his eyes was so strong, it took everything he had to suppress it. People were so impressed by that skill—a forgotten knowledge. He'd never found a use for summoning lightning unless he wanted to start a forest fire, which he did the first time he'd managed it, because it was too energy-consuming and too hard to control to use in battle. It was a pointless skill.

"I can."

Before she could respond, the emperor cleared his throat, and she fell silent, blushing. "I brought Mage Frederick and Mage Opal to test Cyrus to make sure he is not under a love potion."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"Excuse me?" The emperor's eyebrows raised.

"Cyrus and I have been married for six months and together for much longer than that. You can't keep someone on a love potion that long. It would kill them." Greyson crossed his arms, shaking his head as he leaned back against the table.

"He's right, your majesty," Frederick replied.

"Nonetheless," he ground out, "we will test him."

"Test away. Cyrus is not here, as you can see," he said, gesturing to the empty cabin behind him.

"Where is he?"

"In Drakcombe, helping Widow Abney."

The emperor glanced at Frederick, who nodded. "I'll get him."

A thick tension hung in the air. Greyson forced his muscles to relax and sat in the chair he'd earlier abandoned. "Would you like some tea?"

"From you? I think not."

"It hardly matters to me, but I wouldn't poison you," Greyson said.

"Why?" Emperor Caspian asked, hovering near the open door and Mage Opal. "Are you suddenly suffering from an overabundance of love for me?"

"Hardly, but if I killed you, it would upset Cyrus, and I won't do that."

The emperor scoffed, and Greyson shrugged. It didn't matter if he did not believe him. "I'm going to drink my tea before it gets cold." He picked up the ceramic cup, still warm beneath his fingertips, and took a drink. The strong flavor clung to his tongue as the liquid slid pleasantly down his throat. With a slight smile, he ripped a piece of the cinnamon bun off and ate it. The entire time the emperor simply glared at him, muscular arms crossed.

"I don't believe you."

"What? That I refuse to allow your presence to destroy my enjoyment of tea and pastries?" Greyson remarked.

"No!" the emperor growled. "I don't believe you care about Cyrus. You are using him to get to me. You're going to hurt him to hurt me."

Greyson lifted his hand. "Wait, you think I married Cyrus in a long plan to get back at you?"

"Yes."

"Great plan," he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. He did not hate the emperor that much. "But it is not true. I love Cyrus."

"You never did before."

"I didn't know Cyrus before," Greyson growled, voice deepening. "If I'd actually gotten to know Cyrus when I was a teenager, maybe I would have realized it sooner." He truly meant it. Over the last six months, he'd had time to think about it. He'd always been attracted to Cyrus, his eyes had never strayed from him, but Greyson had never had a chance to get to know him or even acknowledge his attraction.

Shaking his head, he continued, "Anyway, the past doesn't matter. I love Cyrus, and we're married. Do you intend to void our marriage that was performed by a member of the court and witnessed by many?"

The emperor stared at him in silence for several long moments before his shoulders slumped and he scrubbed a hand through his short blonde hair. An action that reminded Greyson strongly of Cyrus. Suddenly, the emperor seemed like an exhausted man. He sat across from Greyson before pushing his thick fingers through his hair again.

"He's liked you for a long time, you know."

"I am aware."

Both of them sat in silence. Greyson glanced at the open door, frustration building with each passing second. Frederick should have reached the village by now and found Cyrus. He had no idea what was keeping them.

"You and I," the emperor started, "are going to have to find a way to get along. For Cyrus' sake."

"Do we?"

"Yes," he said. "I miss Cyrus. I couldn't love him more if he'd been born to my wife and I. Also, he is all I have left of my little sister."

The emperor spoke the truth, but that did not make this easy. Greyson hated him. "We do," he agreed, "but that does not mean I won't stop fighting for my people."

The other man glowered. "I will allow no rebellions."

"I didn't start the war, you did. You refused to pay us a reasonable amount for our work. You may own these mountains, but we bled and died for them, and you stole everything."

"I pay more for the venetus now."

"Yes." Greyson sneered. "Because of Cyrus. But you still punish us. You inflicted Lord Darius on us when you knew he would abuse us, and you didn't care."

The emperor stared coldly at him in stony silence.

"I will always fight for my people." Taking a deep breath, Greyson continued, "But for Cyrus' sake, I am willing to not kill you. That's the best I can do. Besides, being with Cyrus and getting to know the future empress will help my people in the end. But that doesn't mean I won't fight for the Griseo Mountains if need be."

"I don't know if we will ever get along."

"Probably not, but we can pretend and refuse to be seated next to or near each other at any event. If luck is with us, we won't have to speak more than a few words to each other for the rest of our lives."

"I can live with that," the emperor replied.

Greyson could live with that as well. It would not be pleasant, but he could and would endure much worse to stay beside Cyrus. "You will have to lift the banishment order and revoke the bounty if you want Cyrus to travel to the capital."

"You would trap him here?" the emperor asked, a fist banging the table and making the teacup rattle on its saucer.

"No. I told Cyrus to go back. He refused to listen. He's the one that won't leave without me."

The emperor crossed his arms. "Stupid, lovesick fool."

Nodding, Greyson agreed with the sentiment.

"That means he's going to want you to come on family vacations and activities and everything, doesn't it?"

"I would assume so. I am his husband."

"That means we will be trapped on a boat with each other."

"At least it won't be cold," Greyson offered before taking a sip of the lukewarm tea.

"What?"

"I took Cyrus to the northern coast when he'd lost his memory. He went sailing with some fishers there. He froze half to death and terrified me, but he loved it."

Chuckling, the emperor waved his hand. "That's nothing compared to how much he scared me when he was nine. This was right after my sister died, and Cyrus came to live with us. I took him sailing. He'd never been before because his mother was terrified of open water, but Cyrus took to it immediately. At one point, he was watching the water over the railing, and then he just jumped overboard, giggling like a loon."

"He did what?" Greyson growled, terror freezing his muscles, even though Cyrus was fine.

"Yes. I thought we wouldn't find him or he'd be dead by the time we did. But lo and behold, we found him, half-drowned. The next few times he went sailing with me, I tied him to the mast. Thankfully, he's outgrown such idiotic acts." His gaze lingered on Greyson as he added, "Mostly."

Greyson scoffed. "He hasn't outgrown anything. When he lost his memory, he climbed up a half-built building because some teenagers goaded him into it. He fell off, and I had to catch him with magic."

"Are you sure you want to be with him?" he asked, hands folding. "I can tell hundreds of unbecoming stories if it would help."

"I'm not changing my mind about Cyrus."

Thankfully, Cyrus came in before the emperor had a chance to stay anything else. He smiled at the two of them. "Uncle."

Standing, the emperor enfolded Cyrus in a tight embrace. Greyson got to his feet as well. After a minute, Cyrus stepped out of the hug, then moved around the table toward him.

"Grey," he said. "I see you didn't kill him."

Greyson frowned. "You left us alone for longer on purpose, didn't you?"

Cyrus grinned. "How else would the two of you ever talk?"

He scowled at his husband. Cyrus smirked before placing a kiss on his lips. It was brief, as they had an unhappy audience who made his presence known with a lot of loud coughing, but it was enough that Greyson was willing to overlook being left alone with the emperor. Taking Cyrus' hand, Greyson faced Emperor Caspian, who watched them with narrowed eyes.

"So you won your heart's desire, nephew?"

"I did," Cyrus said, squeezing his hand.

"You went and got married without your family?"

"Would you have come so quickly if I hadn't?"

Cyrus' uncle did not answer the question but said, "I'm going to have you tested to see if you're under the influence of a love potion."

"That's ridiculous," Greyson snapped. "Just look at Cyrus. He has no symptoms. No weight loss, no bloodshot eyes or dilated pupils, no hair loss, no excessive drooling, and not to mention the fact he's still alive."

"I don't care," the older man ground out. "He will be tested."

"What does that entail?" Cyrus asked, looking at him.

"Just a prick on the finger. It's not a big deal."

"Mage Opal will test him." The emperor motioned for the young mage to start. She quickly began to pour the necessary ingredients into a brass bowl. When it came time to add the blood, she presented a thin, silver needle. Cyrus held out his hand, and she pricked the pointer finger of his dominant hand. Blood welled up, and Mage Opal flipped Cyrus" hand over, allowing a couple of drops of blood to fall into the bowl before letting go of him.

They all leaned closer and watched for any reaction. Nothing happened.

Cyrus nudged his shoulder. "What was supposed to happen?"

"Nothing because you're not under a love potion. If you were, a bunch of red smoke would have poured out before forming the shape of a heart."

"Could Greyson have faked the test?" the emperor asked, looking at his two mages.

"Seriously?" Greyson asked.

The emperor ignored him and kept staring at the two mages.

Frederick shook his head. "It can't be faked. If Prince Cyrus was under a love potion, his blood would have reacted." Mage Opal agreed.

Emperor Caspian said, "Fine, Cyrus. You win. I already lifted the damn banishment order and revoked the bounty before I left. I knew you wouldn't come home without your mage."

"Then what the hell was this all about?" Greyson snapped.

Cyrus ignored his outburst and hugged Emperor Caspian. "Thank you."

"Are you sure you want him?" the emperor asked. "I brought Mage Frederick because he can tell you all manner of unflattering stories of Mage Greyson."

Greyson's mouth fell open. "Is that your solution to breaking couples up?"

Cyrus nodded. "He told Jasper horrible stories about Jade for weeks before the wedding, and that was an arranged marriage."

He honestly did not know what to say. The emperor was an even more ridiculous human being than Greyson could have possibly guessed.

Cyrus shifted back to his uncle. "I'm sure. I just want Greyson."

The warm water lapped against them as Cyrus stretched out on the hot sand next to his husband. They were at the royal summer palace. The empress let them stay there as a honeymoon if they had another wedding with all the pomp and circumstance of a true royal wedding.

He'd managed to get Greyson to go through with it. Greyson's only term was that their original wedding date was recognized legally as the day they got married. The empress was more than happy to agree to that. The wedding was long and boring, and neither of them enjoyed it, but it meant a lot to Cyrus' family.

Thankfully, Greyson got along just fine with Empress Quinn, Jade, and his niece and nephew. Greyson had immediately taken to his nephew, teaching the rebellious child with surprising ease. He'd even found a bracelet artifact for Casper to bond with. Jasper and Greyson of course already got along, but now they'd grown closer.

"So," Greyson said, drawing Cyrus' attention, "was it everything you dreamed it would be?"

Cyrus had imagined, many times, making love to Greyson on the beach near the summer palace while the warm waves crashed over them. It had been his favorite fantasy. While it had been sandier than expected, he'd enjoyed it.

He rolled on top of Greyson, who grunted from the sudden weight. He stared at his husband, hair falling in front of his eyes. Greyson brushed a sandy hand through his hair.

"I liked it."

"I'm glad. It was interesting, to say the least."

He kissed Greyson as a wave washed over them. "Do you have any long-standing fantasies?"

"About you?"

Cyrus nodded, biting his lip.

"No romantic ones. Just mainly maiming and killing you."

He frowned. "You're ruining the moment."

Greyson laughed, hands settling on his lower back. "My dream is to grow old with you. I want to be a crotchety old man with you next to me."

"I like that."

As Cyrus was about to kiss him again, Greyson said, "Oh, I thought of one."

"About me?" he asked, swallowing.

"We should have sex in the library."

"What?" he asked, sputtering. "It's in public."

"We're outside right now."

"On a private beach."

"With servants right up the shore in the summer palace," Greyson said.

Clearing his throat, Cyrus asked, "You wanted to have sex with me in the library when we were teenagers?"

"No. I want to do it now. I have no sex-related teenage fantasies about you. But I do want to make love in the abandoned corner where all the magic theorem books that no one besides me reads are. You used to stalk me there when we were teenagers."

"How romantic," Cyrus said sarcastically.

"I could use one of the two favors you owe me."

"Seriously? In public?"

"We just had sex on the beach. I don't see the difference." Greyson leaned up and rolled until he hovered over Cyrus. "You'd enjoy it. I promise."

"It is one of your two owed favors."

"I told you I'd find something fun to do."

Cyrus simply laughed.

"You know," Greyson said, leaning closer, "we could go to all the places you used to stalk me and make out."

"I think I would enjoy that."

"Of course, you would." Greyson closed the distance between them. Cyrus groaned, rocking beneath him.

A wave crashed over them, soaking them both. When the water receded, Greyson and he both laughed. Cyrus held his face, thumbs stroking his cheekbones. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"We were supposed to go sailing, but I think we should get a snack, then retire to our room for a while," Cyrus commented as his fingers trailed over Greyson's bare skin.

"Hmm, you have more room-related fantasies," he said, nodding.

Cyrus glared, which made Greyson snicker. Greyson had been making serious inroads into all of Cyrus' past daydreams. He acted like it was a challenge to fulfill them all, which Cyrus found amusing, not to mention fun.

"If we did that," Greyson said, "I wouldn't have to tie you to the mast."

Cyrus' mouth fell open. "You've barely spoken to my uncle, and he told you that story?"

Greyson smirked.

"Seriously? I was nine. I never did it again."

"It's funny. Now."

"And when I went sailing with Charles Davies, I didn't fall in. I just got wet from the ocean spray."

"What?" Greyson asked, eyes widening.

"When I almost froze to death. I didn't fall in."

Greyson gaped at him, mouth open.

"What?"

"You remember?"

"Remember what?" Cyrus asked, still upset.

Greyson grabbed his face, his full weight almost crushing Cyrus. "You remember sailing with Charles Davies. I never told you that. Neither did Julia. I made sure she wouldn't."

He blinked, mouth opening, as he thought back. Cyrus could remember the cold ocean spray, Greyson's angry face when he came back, sitting in front of the fire, and after that things grew hazy again. Though, even as he thought about it, Cyrus remembered chasing Greyson after he'd gone outside and pinning him against the house.

"I remember. I also remember the night before. You told me you loved me for the first time."

"You're getting your memories back," Greyson said as his face scrunched and emotion filled his eyes.

"I am." Cyrus couldn"t believe it.

"What else do you remember?"

"I don't know."

"Do you remember the first time you kissed me?" Greyson asked, his voice husky.

He closed his eyes, brow furrowing, as he thought back. Almost immediately, his head started to pound. "No, not yet."

"Maybe you will."

"That would be nice."

"Yes, because then you can stop being jealous of the past you that you don't remember."

Cyrus hooked his arms around Greyson's waist. "I can't believe I'm remembering."

"I can't believe you and I ended up together."

"I can," he said. "We're fated."

Greyson scoffed. "Fated? Not likely."

Cyrus pressed his lips against Greyson's to silence any argument. He didn't care if they were meant to be or not. They were together, and Cyrus had no intention of letting Greyson go.