Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Scions of the past, giant trees of the present.

~ Daygarii saying

“That’s the sweet, the semisweet, and the dry.” Kaylina pointed to bottles set along the great table in the dining hall at Havartaft Estate, crystal goblets lined up by each to facilitate tasting. “For those who like to be more adventurous, I’ve brought my new juniper-pine mead, a blueberry-vanilla melomel, and a sweet and tart cinnamon-apple cyser.”

“I’ve had quite enough adventure for this month—this decade ,” one of the guests, Lady Arrowcraft, said with tartness of her own, “but I would enjoy placidly tasting the apple one. Oh, and the blueberry. Perhaps all of them.”

“Is there anything you don’t do placidly, Hanlah?” Lord Banderdorn said.

“At my age, no. Though I understand from Lady Banderdorn that you are an expert on placid. Or was it flaccid? ”

The two aristocrats shared edged smiles, not-so-politely continuing the insults they’d been engaged in since Kaylina had arrived.

Isla Havartaft had invited a group of nobles to a tasting party and dinner, talking Kaylina into bringing mead and Frayvar and Sevarli into cooking. A great business opportunity, Isla had promised. The aristocrats, despite sniping at each other, had made enthusiastic comments about the mead, so maybe it would prove worth it. Even those who hadn’t yet stolen sips had been pleasant with Kaylina.

Funny how much more often that happened now that Vlerion was king, and she was known to be his lady friend. Oh, he hadn’t had his official coronation yet, since the city was recovering from the upheaval in the streets and the utter shock of having half the royal castle fall into the harbor. But Gavatorin’s funeral had taken place a couple days earlier, with Enrikon’s and Petalira’s deaths being respected at the same time. The bodies of the queen and several other nobles had eventually been found in the harbor. Thankfully, at least in Kaylina’s eyes, not many staff and guards had been in that section of the castle when the earthquake struck.

She was glad that few people had any idea that the sentinel and, in a roundabout way, she had ultimately been responsible for that. True, it had been her father who had fed power into the plant, allowing it to create such a great quake, but he’d only come to Port Jirador because of her.

“While I can appreciate the fruit meads,” Isla said from the head of the table, “my favorite is the semisweet. It’s delicious. Ah, Trudlia?” She flagged down one of the staff. “Bring those little slips, will you? In case any of our friends want to put in a bulk order after they’ve tasted Kaylina’s delights.”

“I am planning on hosting an end-of-summer birthday celebration for my mother,” one of the ladies said, “and she loves anything sweet. Perhaps some of that cyser would go over well with her and the guests…” She picked up a goblet and raised hopeful eyebrows toward Kaylina.

Kaylina had intended to pour the drinks one at a time, speaking a little about each mead, but other hands came in, grabbing goblets and pointing at preferred bottles. While Kaylina doled out samples, some of the nobles clearing their throats and making it known that they wanted fuller goblets, Sergeant Zhani walked into the room.

As she often did of late, she’d accompanied Kaylina out to the estate. To train whenever they had an opportunity, Captain Targon had told Kaylina. Zhani hadn’t said anything to contradict that, but Kaylina believed her trainer had also been assigned to be her bodyguard when she left Stillguard Castle.

After Vlerion’s speech from the courtyard wall, a lot of people knew that Kaylina was special to him. Many of his enemies had fallen that day, but, as he’d pointed out, there would be more. Though he would prefer it otherwise, they might target her. It was a future that Kaylina accepted, as long as it meant she had him.

“These nobles are thirsty,” she said when Zhani joined her. “I don’t think I’ll be able to break away for training this afternoon.”

“I didn’t expect that. I’ve been wandering around the estate, taking in the art and historical pieces.” Zhani waved toward a waist-high vase near the door.

Kaylina wagered she’d been looking for assassins that might be skulking amid the art and historical pieces. Hopefully, she hadn’t found any.

“Also, Frayvar kicked me out of the kitchen,” Zhani added.

“He’s seventeen. He’s not allowed to kick anyone out, certainly not a sergeant.”

A sergeant and a princess , Kaylina thought but didn’t say. Vlerion had finally filled her in on that, on how Zhani had come to the kingdom to escape an arranged marriage, but it was a secret, and Kaylina hadn’t told her brother. For that reason and others, she was glad that Zhani had survived the battle. Not all of the rangers had.

Jankarr’s face floated through Kaylina’s mind. He’d done Vlerion a service—he’d done the kingdom a service—but she would never forget that she’d had a role in his death. If she hadn’t told him where Prince Enrikon had been…

“Technically, it was his assistant,” Zhani said.

“Sevarli?”

“Yes. I suggested that a touch of finely chopped misako leaf in the dough would add flavor to Frayvar’s biscuits. The herb is a culinary favorite where I’m from, and I’ve noticed that people here aren’t that aware of it. But she was offended on his behalf, stating almost ferociously that the food is perfect, not bland. Mind you, I didn’t say it was bland. But she ushered me out as if I’d called everything odious. I’ve had gentler treatment at the hands of the Kar’ruk.” Zhani looked more amused than offended.

“Sevarli has a crush on Frayvar. She probably hoisted you out because of your beauty, not your quirky culinary sense.”

“I did wonder about that, but that’s not why I came over.” Zhani lowered her voice. “I’ve been meaning to thank you for coming to Jankarr’s funeral. He was a friend.”

“Of course.” Kaylina had never considered not going. She’d been relieved that the event had been well-attended by the rangers, with even Targon coming and speaking a few words. She’d worried that Jankarr’s comrades wouldn’t forgive him for working for Spymaster Sabor. As if he’d had a choice. “I didn’t know him as well as I would have liked, but he seemed a good friend to Vlerion and others. It’s unfortunate that he died the way he did.”

“I think it is too, but, from what I heard, he got a chance to redeem himself, and he probably wouldn’t have wanted to go any other way.”

“Yes.” Kaylina thought it was cruel that Targon had claimed Jankarr needed to redeem himself, but she didn’t say so. All the rangers had their handbook on tenets and honor and taybarri grooming memorized, and they lived and died by it. She didn’t know if she would ever fully be one of them, but at least Targon didn’t seem to expect that. She’d given him a bottle of mead at the funeral, and he’d accepted it without a snarky word.

“More of the dry, please, my lady.” A noble who’d guzzled his first generous sample held out his empty goblet.

The honorific surprised Kaylina—she was certainly no lady—but she noticed Isla heading her way and didn’t comment on it, simply pouring more mead for the man.

Zhani didn’t bat an eye at the my lady. She also noticed Isla coming and stepped back. “I’ll check the perimeter of the estate. This is a big event, and we don’t want any shenanigans interrupting it.”

“What kind of shenanigans would interrupt a mead tasting?” Kaylina asked.

And why did Zhani considered it a big event ?

But Zhani was already heading for the door. Another woman had arrived, one in plain clothes with her dark-blonde hair drawn back in a tight braid. Targon’s sister, Shylea.

Kaylina blinked as Zhani greeted Shylea without surprise. Had Isla invited her? The last Kaylina had heard, Vlerion had promoted Shylea to the position of spymaster. Was she here on business? Or to try the mead?

More guests lined up for refills, distracting Kaylina. Isla let her fill a couple more goblets, then drew her aside.

“Some of your guests might go home smashed,” Kaylina told her. “The alcohol content in my meads is higher than you’d guess.”

“Oh, I expect they’ll be drunk by dinner.” Isla looked toward the door, but Zhani and Shylea had disappeared, and it was empty. Only the delectable scents from the kitchen wafted in.

Frayvar had already sent out a couple rounds of appetizers, including spiced oysters that had made Lord Saybrook—the famous grandfather of Ghara Saybrook, who was, to Kaylina’s relief, not there—pound him on the back and ask if he wanted a job as head chef at his estate. Frayvar had declined. After all, he had to oversee the rebuilding of the kitchen at Stillguard Castle in anticipation of normalcy returning to the city and clientele flocking to their eating house.

“May I speak with you privately for a moment?” Isla asked, though she’d already drawn Kaylina across the room.

“Yes, my lady,” Kaylina said with a twinge of nerves.

A server bringing snacks and water made Isla pause before continuing. When Kaylina had accepted this invitation, she’d suspected Isla wanted to speak privately with her, especially when Vlerion had said he had to work and wouldn’t be able to make it.

He’d had to work a lot in the last two weeks, and not at the ranger duties he enjoyed. When it came to running a kingdom, especially one that had seen great upheaval, there was much to straighten out, especially since he’d brought in Grittor as an advisor on matters regarding the Virts and the common man, and they were making changes.

Though she’d returned to her training with Sergeant Zhani, Kaylina had barely seen Vlerion during the days. He did, fortunately, make time to visit her at night in Stillguard Castle, which was quickly being repaired. Vlerion had offered work to anyone who wished fair pay fixing the damage from the siege. It was in better shape now than at any point in the time Kaylina and Frayvar had been there.

The hammering and banging from the construction crews almost drowned out the noise she and Vlerion made as they enjoyed each other’s company in her room in the evenings. In her room, in some of the guest rooms, in the dining hall, and once in the partially repaired pantry while a dinner service went on outside. That had been an accident, but she smiled at the memory—at all the memories. It had been insufferable waiting all summer to be with Vlerion, but their times together now made the wait seem worth it.

“I wanted to see how you’re doing,” Isla said when the server departed, leaving tarts and cookies on a plate in her hands, “and how things are going between you and Vlerion.” She considered Kaylina. “That’s quite the smile. Are you imagining your business expanding as reports of your mead go far and wide?”

“I do imagine that often, but this smile was for, uhm, other things.”

“My son.”

Kaylina’s cheeks warmed. “He can make me smile, yes.”

And scream and cry out and beg… None of which Kaylina intended to discuss with his mother.

“Good. If I understand things correctly, he will still become the beast, but it’s more… voluntary now? His, ah, passions won’t make him change? Is that right?” Isla must have received some of the details from Vlerion, but maybe she wanted to hear Kaylina’s version. Or just that everything was going well, and he—the beast—wasn’t a threat to her anymore.

Kaylina appreciated that his mother cared. “That’s right. We don’t have to worry about the beast when we’re…”

“In the bedchamber?”

“Yeah.” Why were her cheeks so warm?

“Or the pantry?” Isla’s eyes twinkled.

“He told you about that?” Kaylina couldn’t imagine Vlerion confiding details of his sex life with his mother, but… she supposed she hadn’t seen them together that often and didn’t fully know what they discussed.

“He did not. Your brother told me about the completely inappropriate —in his words—thumps, bangs, and moans emanating from his pantry the other night and how they interfered with his concentration while he was making a persnickety remoulade.”

“Oh.” Kaylina dropped her face in her hand. “I thought we were being quiet. Relatively quiet.”

“I understand your brother sanitized the entire space afterward.” Isla sipped from her mead goblet. “Three times.”

“That’s a little overdramatic. He only sanitized it two times after the mercenary battle, and there was blood everywhere.”

“I’m relieved the mead wasn’t damaged.”

“Me too. It was all bottled up in the cellar. Most of the battle took place above it or out in the catacombs. As to the rest, Vlerion and I are doing well. Thank you for asking.” Kaylina bit her lip, studying Isla’s collarbone for a moment, before adding, “I am sorry I wasn’t able to lift the curse. Even my druid father couldn’t do that. I know I promised you and Vlerion… Well, I believed I’d be able to do it.”

Isla patted her on the shoulder. “You did your best, Kaylina. I’m relieved it’s not as bad as it was. For both of you.”

“We’re very happy now. We’ve been happy, uhm, almost every night.”

“Given how busy he’s been these last couple of weeks, that’s impressive.”

“Yes.” Kaylina blushed but couldn’t keep from grinning. “He is.”

“Of course. He’s my son.” Isla winked.

One of the staff appeared in the doorway and cleared his throat. “I am honored to announce the entrance of His Majesty, King Vlerion.”

Kaylina touched her chest, delighted. He’d found the time to come out to the estate? She hadn’t expected that.

Dressed in an emerald-green tunic and black trousers that fit him perfectly, showing off his broad shoulders, muscled form, and trim waist, Vlerion stepped into the doorway. The attire surprised Kaylina since, thus far, he’d ignored suggestions from would-be advisors that he wear anything but his ranger uniform. She liked the look, however, finding him dapper and handsome, his hair recently trimmed, his jaw shaven.

“Nothing is official, Hastion,” he said quietly to the servant as he scanned the room, his gaze settling on Kaylina. “You can still call me Vlerion, and you don’t need to announce anything here, in the house where I grew up.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The man bowed deeply and would doubtless continue doing proper introductions instead of the casual—or nonexistent—ones that Vlerion preferred.

Vlerion sighed but also patted the man on the back before striding toward Kaylina, giving the mead-sipping aristocrats in the room the briefest of nods. He might not have done more than nod to his mother, either, but she spoke to him.

“It’s good to see you, my son. Have you given thought about where you’ll live yet, as king?” Isla glanced around the room, as if to suggest Havartaft Estate. When she’d shown up in town for Jankarr’s funeral, she’d admitted, not for the first time, to being lonely out here with only the staff for company. “I can’t imagine the plateau that the royal castle—the remains of the royal castle—rests on is structurally sound anymore.”

“I don’t think it is, Mother.” Vlerion clasped Kaylina’s hand. “I would feel obligated to live in a central location, however, one with quick access to ranger headquarters and other important points around the capital.”

“He gets up before dawn to train every day before his meetings,” Kaylina told Isla. “I think he believes he still might be called out to patrol the borders.”

A quick wistful look in his eyes was the only indication Vlerion gave that he would prefer risking his life guarding the borders to meetings with self-important aristocrats, bureaucrats, and Virts, all eager to push their agendas.

“Perhaps he merely wants to keep himself fit for you, my dear.” Isla smiled at Kaylina as she sipped her mead.

By now, Kaylina shouldn’t have blushed when discussing such things, but she did anyway.

“I do appreciate fitness,” she murmured.

Vlerion squeezed her hand. “Since Kaylina needs to fertilize that needy Daygarii plant every day, I’d thought to stay in Stillguard Castle with her. It’s centrally located, being repaired, and the lingering curse will keep away the riffraff.”

“I don’t think it’s appropriate for the king of all of Zaldor to reside in an eating house, son.”

“An eating house and meadery,” Kaylina said.

That earned her a tart look from Isla.

“It’s modest enough that it may send the message I wish going forward,” Vlerion said. “I don’t feel future kings should reside above the people, looking down at everyone.”

“Also, petitioners may be distracted by the mead and never make their way to your office upstairs,” Kaylina suggested.

“ Yes . I’d be delighted by that.”

Isla snorted softly but didn’t argue for Vlerion to live at Havartaft Estate.

“Perhaps he could visit out here on the weekends,” Kaylina suggested. “He’ll need breaks away from his work, and that lake with the dock is quite peaceful.”

“It is indeed.” Isla gave Kaylina a pleased look when Vlerion nodded in agreement.

“Perhaps we can visit on the weekends,” he suggested to Kaylina, then dug into his pocket.

Isla noticed and backed away, giving them space. She also shushed a couple of the noisier nobles and pointed at Vlerion.

Kaylina waited curiously.

“I’ve already given you a sword,” Vlerion said as he drew out a black velvet jewelry box. “But this is more customary in this part of Zaldor.”

Kaylina was tempted to remind him that she’d only accepted the sword as a loaner, but she was too interested in what he would unveil and why he would do it in front of all these people. He’d always struck her as someone to favor private places for intimate moments. Only when he opened the box to reveal a beautiful gold ring with the Havartaft silver-and-black emblem on a flat circle did she realize this might have more significance than a simple bauble.

“Unlike the sword,” he murmured, smiling, “this is a family heirloom. I hope you’ll accept it.”

Kaylina started to answer, but he took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for battle. No, for something that made him nervous . Battle never bothered him.

What he intended to do slowly dawned on Kaylina, and emotion welled within her, tears threatening to creep into her eyes.

Vlerion bowed low over the ring, holding it out toward her as he lifted his gaze to meet hers. He licked his lips—he was nervous. “Kaylina Korbian, master mead-maker, ranger trainee, possessor of blood as odd as my own?—”

Isla rolled her eyes. Maybe she’d expected something more poetical.

“—and woman who melds perfectly with me,” Vlerion continued, “woman I love… Will you marry me?”

Conscious of all the eyes now turned toward them, and the gravity of the moment, Kaylina tried to rein in her tendency toward snark and irreverence. But she couldn’t help but whisper, “You’re asking me? Not making it an order?”

“Based on my past experiences with giving you orders, I thought you might be inclined to reject me if I did that.”

“Never that, but I’m glad you’re learning.” Kaylina gripped his hands and started to give him an answer, but she paused as a thought occurred to her. “Will I have to call you Your Majesty all the time?”

“Only in public.”

She might have curled a lip.

His eyes glinted with humor. “I’ll also have to call you Your Majesty. ”

“Oh. That’s fair. Uhm.” Before that moment, it hadn’t dawned on Kaylina that he was asking her not only to wed but to be queen. The gravity finally knocked the irreverence out of her. She swallowed and caught herself taking a bracing deep breath before raising her voice to officially reply. “Yes. I will marry you.”

“Excellent.” Vlerion straightened and kissed her, murmuring against her lips, “I look forward to spending the rest of my life with you.”

Aware of polite claps amid somewhat drunken cheers from the nobles, Kaylina wrapped her arms around his shoulders to return the kiss. “I look forward to that too.”

When they parted, both inhibited by all the people watching, Vlerion slid the ring onto her finger and clasped her hand, nodding toward the table.

“Would you like to try some mead?” she asked before remembering that he didn’t drink alcohol.

But… could he now? They’d proven—night after night—that strong emotions no longer aroused the beast. Only the need to defend the kingdom or the preserve did.

Vlerion nodded, as if following her thoughts. “If you’ve something manly enough for me. The fruit ones are too girlie.”

“ Really ,” came an indignant comment from his mother, who hadn’t backed so far away that she hadn’t caught their every word. She was currently enjoying a goblet of the blueberry-vanilla.

Kaylina led him toward the table. “I have a juniper-pine mead that should suit you. I gathered the needles from extremely manly and virile trees in the mountains near a ranger watchtower. It’s likely battles have taken place under their boughs. There might even have been dried Kar’ruk blood on the needles.”

“ Perfect ,” Vlerion said, his eyes gleaming with approval.

THE END

Thank you for reading The Curse and the Crown series! If you enjoyed the books and have time to leave a review , I would appreciate it. If you want to see more in this world, let me know!

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