Chapter Forty-Seven

A s the first light of dawn kissed the land the following morning, all of the nobles and guests had reassembled in the great hall. Frost tipped every blade of grass outside, and the air was still, clinging to the early morning peace. Evienne stood on the dais, Orion still supporting her in her weakened state. Hestia and the other Contrapensae were gathered nearby. The gathered crowd was nearly silent, waiting for their new king.

Evienne had sought Sylvain out before the dawn, as soon as she was well enough to walk to Léhiona’s room on Orion’s arm. Despite his grief and shock, he had taken the news of his impending coronation gracefully. As Aldith’s only sibling, he had known all his life that this was a possibility. Knowing and experiencing were very different things, though, and Evienne admired Sylvain’s resolve in the face of such unexpected responsibility.

Léhiona was resting comfortably in her room, and Cecelia insisted on staying to keep watch over her. She would awake to a new world, and though Aldith had wronged her so greatly, Evienne knew the loss would ache. Her heart broke for the grief Léhiona would feel.

Evienne’s attention returned to the gathered crowd, and she saw Sylvain step through the massive doors at the end of the great hall. The sun was now high enough in the sky that it sent a kaleidoscope of colors glimmering across the room through the panes of the stained glass. It was the first dawn of the new millennium and a new dawn for Ichorna, as well.

Sylvain du Pont made his way down the long aisle. Evienne stood at the center of the group, holding Ichorna’s crown. She watched the crowd and saw all of her varied emotions reflected on the faces of those gathered. Grief, surprise, hope—the people of Ichorna felt it all.

Sylvain reached the dais and lowered to his knees before Evienne, head bowed. Evienne placed the crown upon her friend’s head.

“Ichorna, this man is your new king, his power vested by the Council of Contrapensae.”

At the mention of the Council, a wave of surprised exclamations rose from the crowd. Hestia nodded to Evienne, so she continued.

“He is responsible not only for your care, but for the care of the balance of our world. I charge you all, in turn, to be loyal to him, and to partner with him in the pursuit of balance and justice. Sylvain du Pont of Ichorna, rise as king.”

The crowd applauded as Sylvain turned to face them. A single tear escaped down his cheek as he addressed the gathered audience.

“People of Ichorna, and all those gathered here from near and far: I vow that our memory of this night will not be distorted. We will move forward, but we will not forget those who suffered. We denounce Queen Aldith, and vow to move forward into a new era of peace. The Contrapensae of legend are real, and they have uncovered the imbalance and injustice hiding in the shadows of Ichorna. I will serve you all loyally as we set about correcting our path. I do not know all that will fill the days ahead. I do not know what our Beitaran neighbors will do when they hear of the truth, but we must be prepared to atone for the harm we have caused. The road ahead will not be easy—our entire way of life has been built on the backs of others—but we will be innovative, and brave, and we will never again harm others in our pursuit of progress. As we begin this new millennium, we ring in a new era of truth and balance in Ichorna.”

The people bowed to their new king, and Evienne could not have been more proud. Sylvain’s words gave her hope for the future of Ichorna.

·

A fter the coronation, Evienne and Orion had slipped away to her rooms. She still felt on the verge of collapse; her use of magic the night before had truly taken its toll on her.

“Are you well, love?” Orion asked as they settled down under the covers of her bed.

“I am grateful to be here with you, and grateful that we have freed your people,” Evienne said, her throat tight.

“And?”

“And I fear my soul is now ruined by the taint of dark magic. I do not regret what I did—I saw no other way forward—but I fear I am now no better than Aldith herself,” Evienne whispered, letting her thoughts out into the world.

“Oh, my love,” Orion said, folding Evienne into his embrace. “You are nothing like her. You did not steal Léhiona’s blood for your magic; it was freely given. You did what you had to do to save your friends and all the people of Beitar. You were willing to take on the burden of that magic for the good of others. Some with more rigid mindsets may say that makes you a villain, but you know the truth of your spirit. That magic only makes you evil if you let it,” Orion said and pressed a kiss into Evienne’s hair.

“I love you, Orion. I am so, so happy to be yours. I don’t ever wish to be parted from you.”

“I love you too, lovely, deadly Evienne. My fearsome, bright, exquisite Còmhanam. I will love you with every breath until my very last.”

·

L ater that afternoon, Evienne sat with Orion, Sylvain, Hestia, and Cecelia in the sitting room adjoining Léhiona’s bedchamber. They had all barely rested for a moment since the coronation that morning, but they managed to gather here around a pot of tea, as if not much had changed in the world.

Lucinne had power reserves that, despite their ill-gotten origin, would keep the city from total chaos for a short time. They expected they would have power for about a week if residents were careful with their usage. Determining a plan for the Centralle Dellumine would be one of Sylvain’s first great challenges as a ruler.

While Ichorna’s future weighed heavily on Evienne’s mind, she couldn’t help but think of all that Aldith and Dominique had revealed in their recklessness. They had said there had once been an ally in Beitar, that they had lost contact.

“I think we need to get to Beitar,” Evienne said, and conversation amongst her companions halted.

“What makes you say that?” Orion asked, no challenge in his voice, only genuine curiosity.

“Aldith said there was someone in Beitar who helped establish the Sangroche and its sister stone long ago, that the other stone is still there, in Sgùrdruid’s catacombs. If that’s true, isn’t it possible this could happen again?”

“Whoever helped King Bastille then could have installed some sort of successor, similar to the pass down of the knowledge we had here. I just don’t understand why someone in Beitar would have helped him with this; though, whoever it was may not have been from Beitar themself,” Hestia said.

“I think your instinct is right, Evienne, and I believe our king is likely to be amenable to a visit from the woman who is our savior,” Orion added, giving her hand a supportive squeeze.

“If there is any chance the conspirator or their ilk are still around, they must be rooted out,” Sylvain said. “We can handle things here, Evi.”

Cecelia nodded in agreement at Sylvain’s words.

“Take your fluffy mate to Beitar, Dove, and set things right. Oisín Treun is the Contrapensa in Beitar. They are a quiet sort, but they will help you,” Hestia said and took a sip of her tea.

Silence fell, each of them too tired and wrapped up in their own thoughts to continue the conversation. Just as Evienne was about to excuse herself to go rest, the door to Léhiona’s bedchamber creaked open.

“Sylvain? Evi?” Léhiona’s voice was hoarse, and everyone turned as she stepped carefully into the room.

“What happened?”