Pepin kneeled in front of the carved gravestone, setting a bundle of blood lilies in front of it. He stayed there for some time, not moving a muscle.

When he finally walked back to the house, Emelri was waiting by the wooden fence for him. He took the spot beside her and they both stared silently at the orange and red sky. It wasn’t until Lumi came up and nibbled Pepin’s shoulder that either said a word.

“Hey, girl,” he whispered, stroking her neck. “You must be missing your herd in Quixotryl. I’m sorry you can’t go back to see them.”

“For now, at least,” Emelri said, adding her own pats to the mix, which Lumi happily accepted. “Zuri says the portal issue is only a temporary problem.”

“They’re still adamant they can fix it?”

“They’ve been tinkering with it for weeks now. I just don’t see how damage like that can be repaired though. It’s not like there are any ancient Alchemist engineers around with blueprints.”

“If anyone can fix it, it’s Zuri.”

“True.”

There was a long pause as they watched the last of the sun’s light fade and were slowly plunged into shadows.

Pepin bit his lip, his hand finding hers. “I’m glad we could bury them here in New Minoka.”

“Yeah... Me too.”

“This is where all their happy memories were, where they didn’t have a care in the world outside meeting deadlines for their job; where they weren’t in so much pain.” She squeezed the fingers back.

“We were right to go after them. If we hadn’t... they would have died all alone in Yayma without making peace with Jacques. They were surrounded instead by people who loved them.”

He frowned. “I-I don’t know. Emi… maybe if I’d listened to them and joined them in the beginning when they asked, this never would have happened. I can’t help but feel responsible for this. I was the one who was supposed to get through to them, and I didn’t. I... I could have prevented this.”

Adrian’s voice sounded behind them, and they both turned around. “It’s no one’s fault, Pep. Hey… come here.”

Pepin failed to keep his emotions in check as Adrian’s arms went around him.

“B-but if I hadn’t... hadn’t—”

“A lot of decisions led up to that point that none of us had control over,” he said gently. “Toulou knew the risks before leaving for the portal. There were many moments they could have come back with us or allowed us to help them, but they refused. They chose to go there and put themself in danger—”

“So, you’re blaming them for all of this?” They pulled apart, and Emelri watched as Pepin’s chest heaved up and down in anger.

Adrian shook his head. “No, that’s not what I—”

“They didn’t choose to die that day,” he spat. “They didn’t make Carnadine strike that blow. They didn’t choose for that Spiller to poison them, nor for our mother to die. How can you possibly make this their fault?”

“I’m not. That’s not what I’m saying, Pep.”

“Then what do you mean, exactly?” He exhaled a short breath before adding, “You saw how Yayma was doing. If anything, they had a point about everything, and we kept trying to stop them. They needed our support, and we denied it when they needed our help. If we went after Carnadine together like they suggested from the start, they would still be alive.”

“What?” It was Emelri who spoke. “Pep, you know why we couldn’t. They resisted any help we offered, and you yourself said the merciless killing was wrong.”

“Their actions made Yayma a better place. Even when we were just barely heading back, we noticed the changes. Those people in Yundet were there because Toulou got rid of the Spiller strongholds. Hundreds of people’s lives are better and safer because of what they did.”

“But at what cost?” Emelri turned her head to see Jacques who approached them solemnly. “Carnadine is dead, yes, but now… so are they. Other families are safe, but not the one they came from.”

Pepin screwed up his face, tears as well as a dangerous green flicker flashing in his eyes. “So, you’re blaming them too?”

He considered him for a moment before giving a small sigh. Coming forward, he placed a gentle hand on Pepin’s shoulder. “I’m not choosing sides. A family member just passed away. Whether what they did was right or not, they’re gone.” He swallowed, obviously trying to keep it together before adding, “and nothing can change that. We just need to support one another now. There’s no point in fighting amongst ourselves. The truth is we’re all hurting, and you, Pep, I know you’re hurting the most.”

Pure anguish replaced the anger; the crackling in his eyes dying out as tears fell out instead. His soft whimpers were muffled into Jacques’s shoulder as the father held him tightly.

“They...” Pepin whispered between sobs. “They w-were all that was left...of my family...and now...t-they’re gone. All of my family members are gone. I’m all alone now.”

“Shhh,” Jacques soothed, gripping him tighter. “You’re not alone, Pep.”

“I just want to see them again.”

“I know. Me too.” Jacques heaved a shaky breath. “Me too.”

~Two Years Later~

Standing on the sidelines with the others, Emelri stared up at the vaulted ceiling filled with delicately painted glass windows and hanging chandeliers made of gold and decorated with gemstones. The enormous red drapes and entire wall-spanning tapestries caught her eye as well as King Antoine and Queen Madeleine who sat atop their thrones behind the heavily decorated altar. Her attention was then drawn to the entourage on the opposite side of the room that stepped out onto the red carpet embroidered with red thread. A vast congregation sang celestial choral music.

Adrian headed this entourage with a mass of a dozen or so courtiers all around him. He wore a blue and black tunic with split sleeves and a royal blue sash thrown over his shoulder that nearly touched the ground. His golden hair trailed behind him in a half ponytail that was secured at the bottom and the middle with more ribbon with little braids woven throughout. An ornate cap with a blue feather in it was pinned to his head. The large black ruffs around his neck and wrists as well as the white stockings looked odd to Emelri but she found the attire magnificent nonetheless.

When Adrian reached the altar, the courtiers dispersed in perfect rehearsed lines, and he turned and faced the large audience.

If Emelri spoke Elden, she’d understand the spectator behind her who mumbled, “His Former Majesty is as magnificent as ever.”

“Yes,” another said. “Such a unique hairstyle but it suits his royal manner all the same.”

“Tis a shame he renounced the throne.”

“Some suspect it was because of this commoner that he left his royal duties.”

“That plebeian does not even speak Elden.”

“I heard he cannot even read. Imagine that. An illiterate commoner marrying our former king.”

“Speak of the devil...”

After a moment, Jacques appeared alongside Pepin on the opposite end of the throne, treading in time to the music down the carpet. The groom wore a red doublet with puffy sleeves that revealed lush brown cloth underneath that matched his intricately embroidered breeches. The black curls had been made into dozens of long box braids ending at his elbow, some of the strands wrapped with golden thread and others strung with one or two thick, ruby encrusted golden beads. A red men’s bonnet embedded with rubies sat atop his head and he too had a ruff around his neck and wrists, though these ones were white.

Pepin wore something similar but of less extravagance as he stepped in time next to him.

Even from Emelri’s spot at the front, she could see just how nervous Jacques was. His face was slightly paled, jaw clenched, but despite that, there was a sound like awe from the crowd. As the music swelled then lowered to a finale, Jacques reached the end where Pepin left him at Adrian’s side. The empty spot beside Emelri was filled by a smiling Pepin, and their fingers discreetly intertwined.

At the front, Jacques took Adrian’s outstretched hand and his shoulders visibly relaxed as his partner smiled brightly at him. A light pink filled Adrian’s pale cheeks.

As soon as the preacher began, Zuri’s voice was in Emelri’s ear. “I can’t believe Jacques agreed to a wedding and one of this caliber.”

Emelri snorted. “Oh, he fought against it, believe me. It’s been a headache since they started planning it. Be glad you haven’t been at the house recently.”

They snickered. “I can only imagine. I assume Adrian insisted?”

“It was King Antoine, actually. He would not accept something simple in New Minoka and insisted on planning the royal wedding for them, though I don’t think Adrian was very opposed to it. They’ve been picking out colors, flowers, doing fittings, and attending rehearsals for months now.”

“Months?”

“I mean, Adrian was the king of Nebrasia after all. Of course, it’s all elaborate.”

“Hey, shhh,” Andre scolded in a whisper. “They’re doing their vows.”

They both looked up to see the couple exchanging rings and Adrian was the first to speak, his words all in Venish.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Jacques,” his voice carried across the room as he slipped the ring over the bronze finger, “I promise to cherish you always. You will always occupy my thoughts even as I dream. I will support and honor you for the rest of my life for I love you dearly and always will, my darling.”

The flustered magic user blinked a few times, then swallowed in preparation for his own rehearsed words. A slightly shaky voice escaped his lips. “A-Adrian Rousselle,” Emelri was surprised to hear an attempt at an Elden accent leave his mouth, and even more shocked when his next words were in Elden. Pepin quietly translated in her ear. “I promise to hold you close to my heart even in times of trial and...” He inhaled, then quietly exhaled, blinking back some uncertainty while surprise decorated Adrian’s face. “I could never part from you. Not in this lifetime and not ever. Not when you are my everything. I love you, more than anything, Sweetheart.”

Adrian’s face melted into one of pure adoration, and Jacques could only stare back red-faced.

A soft, “Oh my...” sounded behind her, and Emelri overheard but did not understand someone else whisper between sniffles, “What touching words. No wonder the former king left his post for this man. He was well and truly smitten.”

“Who knew His Former Majesty valued the ways of heart so?”

“Such a handsome couple.”

“These Nebrasians sure are chatty,” Pepin whispered in Emelri’s ear, chuckling.

“Since when does Jacques speak Elden?” Emelri asked bewilderedly.

“He doesn’t. He memorized lines he wrote in Venish that I translated for him. He thought it would be more meaningful since Elden is Adrian’s native tongue.”

“Aww!” Zuri joined their conversation again. “That is so sweet of him.”

Andre was shushing them all again to which Zuri stuck their tongue out at him.

The preacher’s voice projected boldly through the echoing space. “In accordance with Nebrasian law, I do hereby join Jacques and His Former Majesty, King Adrian Rousselle, Son of His Late Majesty, King Luc Rousselle, in holy matrimony.”

Face splitting with jubilance, Adrian beamed at his new husband, and they both turned to face the crowd. They looked so radiant and full of life, Emelri couldn’t look away. Jacques’s face was painted with tears, and she noticed Adrian rubbing a thumb comfortingly over his hand. Jacques looked up at him and smiled.

After the ceremony, everyone found themselves in a grand banquet hall full of music, dancing, and a bounty of food and drink.

“Wow, that’s not all Jacques has been practicing,” Zuri commented with their mouth full, a cherry tart in their hand. Emelri, Pepin, Andre, and Zuri all watched to the side as the newly married couple circled each other in time to the music in the center of the room while everyone watched. Instruments that Pepin explained to Emelri were a lute, harp, flute, viol and harpsichord played a cheery tune as they danced.

Turning opposite of Adrian, Jacques’s raised palm met his husband’s. They both looked so elegant, Emelri could hardly believe they were the same fathers she’d been living with the past seven years.

“How has your work in Elden Town been, Zuri?” she asked, eyes glued to the spectacle. “I heard you’ve managed to repair part of the damage done to the portal.”

“Oh, yeah!” They talked between sips of wine. “I’ve made quite the breakthrough with the ancient Alchemist smithing tools I took from the power plant all those years ago, by combining them with non-user magic tech. Been able to weld some pieces back together. You know, if the Totrium had been damaged instead of the portal, we’d all be fucked.”

“You really think you’ll have it working again? Everyone has pretty much accepted that it’s a doomed project.”

Their face fell. “Damn. Glad to have all your support at this time. It’s only a matter of time before it’s fixed, and thanks to you Emi, or rather, your birth father for providing me with more non-user magic inspiration, I was able to accomplish this. I’ve been able to study quite a few of his energy crystal-fused weapons. What a fucking man... Truly inspiring.”

She snorted. “Thanks, though I heard those weapons are banned in Venwick now.” They glanced to the side guiltily. “Had you heard already?”

“Oh... a-are they? Heh. Oops.”

She chuckled. “I’m glad users are being recognized by the public now.”

“That would be thanks to Adrian and King Antoine. People are still freaked out by users but at least now they’re protected under law.”

“Only in Nebrasia,” Pepin said after swallowing a bite of bread.

“True, but before, people didn’t even know magic users existed.”

He hummed in agreement. “I’ve sensed so many since we entered Nebrasia. I think most are moving out here. I’m glad.”

“It helps that Teptrite is also illegal in Nebrasia,” Emelri added. “It makes for a much nicer place to live.”

“Why don’t you two move out here?” Zuri asked.

Emelri and Pepin looked at each other. “Oh, I think we’re going to stay a while longer with Jacques and Adrian,” she answered, and the magic user nodded in agreement. “Things are still a bit...” She didn’t finish that sentence.

“Makes sense. One of these days I’m going to come back to New Minoka—”

“I sure hope so,” a feminine voice sounded behind them. The slim black man with blond dreads Emelri recognized at once as Huit walked up and nudged Zuri with his arm. “The clinic isn’t the same without you.”

“Oh, Huit, there you are! Ah! You brought more tarts! Yes, yes...” They began stuffing their face full while Huit just giggled in response. “I love you so much,” they added with their mouth full.

All their attention was drawn back to the center when the music ended. Joining the applause, Emelri beamed as her two fathers grinned at each other, still holding hands.

Adrian turned to face the crowd, projecting in a language Emelri didn’t understand but thankfully, Pepin was there to translate in her ear, “Before we continue the festivities, I have a special number planned for my dear Jacques.” He leaned down to his husband’s ear, most likely to do his own translating.

Jacques blinked up at him in surprise, and Emelri barely heard him say, “Wait, you’re gonna do what? This is the first time I’m hearing about it.”

Adrian grinned. “That’s because it’s a surprise.” Leaving his side, the former king walked over to the harpsichord and sat. Making eye contact with the other musicians, he nodded.

“Did you know about this?” Zuri whispered in her ear, and she shook her head.

“I knew,” Pepin said, and they both looked at him. “What? I walked in on him practicing. He wanted my opinion on his sound.”

“And? Does he sound good?”

Everyone quieted as soon as the lute as well as Adrian’s harpsichord playing rang out. The other instruments joined them soon after. After an elegant introduction, a gentle tenor voice pierced the hall. Emelri blinked and blinked at the man whose mouth this angelic voice came from.

He sang in Venish, and considering this particular style of music did not exist in Venwick, she concluded it must be an original composition. Singing of love and of ‘a man of beauty’ as well as many more doting words, she watched as Jacques’s face turned from pink to cherry to a deep scarlet.

Andre lightly chuckled beside her. “I’m not sure if public declarations are really Jacques’s thing.”

Unable to meet his husband’s eye, Jacques frowned as he stewed silently on the spot. When the song ended, the crowd clapped, and Adrian stood to give a short little bow before crossing back over to the ripe tomato that was his spouse.

“Er, how...” Adrian asked tentatively, rubbing the back of his neck, “how was that? Was it too much?”

The man looked furious, and Emelri thought he was about to yell at him but instead, Jacques grabbed the front of Adrian’s vest and kissed him. There were a few gasps.

“Public displays of affection are considered improper in Nebraisa,” Andre leaned forward to inform them, “even between two spouses.”

She and Pepin both gave him a look. “How do you know that?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Adrian told me earlier when I asked why they didn’t kiss at the ceremony.”

“Ah.” She looked back at the couple who were now pulling apart.

“I liked it,” she barely heard Jacques say, the man’s face still bright red. “Didn’t even know you could sing.”

Love-crazed blue eyes blinked back at him, and a big smile spread over Adrian’s face. “I wrote it for you...”

“I know.”

King Antoine was by their side now, patting his older brother on the back and saying in Elden, “Well now, you always did have to show off, Adi.”

Adrian shot him a look. “You’ve sung many times to Madi in public, if I recall.”

“That is true.” The queen was soon by her husband’s side, and Emelri and the others joined them as well. “They both have wonderful voices.”

There was a slight disturbance then, and a high-pitched voice cried, “Uncle Adi! Uncle Adi!” The group all looked over to see a young boy around three or four years old with light brown skin, brown eyes, and curly brown hair, sprinting up to Adrian and hugging him around the middle. A disgruntled castle servant was not far behind.

“Oof! Good evening, Elias!” Adrian hugged the little boy back, chuckling. “How are you doing, Nephew?”

“Elie!” Antoine hissed, coming forward and pulling the little boy off his brother, lifting him up to rest on his hip as he scolded. “What did we talk about?”

“Deepest apologies, Majesty,” the flustered servant said, bowing. “His Highness slipped from my grasp again.”

Madeleine gave a soft giggle. “There is no reason to apologize, Anna. Prince Elias is quite rambunctious.”

The boy was now making a pouty face at the king. “Father, I know I am to stay in my room with my siblings, but I wanted to see Uncle Adi. May I?”

“Perhaps later. This is not an appropriate time—”

“I don’t mind, Tony,” Adrian said cheerily. “We can go out to the gardens and look at the flowers. What do you say, Elie?”

The boy gasped, wriggling out of Antoine’s arms, and skirting over to his uncle. “Oh, yes, yes, yes! Uncle Jacques must come too.” He grabbed both of their hands and dragged them forward, and Jacques had a look on his face like he had no idea what was going on, probably because he didn’t, not knowing Elden and all. “And Cousin Emi must come and Cousin Pep and Uncle Andre and Auncle Zuri...”

“They can’t all go, Elie,” Antoine scolded, though there was a lightness in his tone.

“Anna, you may be relieved,” the queen said, and the servant looked like a massive weight had been lifted off her shoulders as she said her many thanks, bowed deeply, and promptly left. “Tony,” she continued, “we may reconvene in the gardens. It is lovely out this evening.”

“Well, alright,” he looked defeated, “but not too long. I must be present to entertain the guests, or I would not be a good host.”

“Yes, yes. You worry too much, Darling.”

“Adi, Adi! Walk with me. You too, Jacques.”

“He wants to walk with us,” Adrian said in Venish between laughs as they were both pulled along.

“Oh. Fun.” Jacques was his normal grumpy self, but he still went along with the child. “I thought you hated that nickname, Adrian.”

“It’s grown on me.”

“Really?” Antoine asked in Venish, shooting him a look as he walked. “So, I have permission to use it?”

He frowned. “No.”

Andre burst out laughing, and Jacques used this moment to nudge his new husband and whisper, “You’re not going to want babies again now, are you?”

“What?” He looked around guiltily. “What makes you think that?”

His face fell. “You lose your shit whenever a little kid is around. I know you want one.”

The pale cheeks filled with color. “I may be considering it.”

“Well... maybe we can—” Adrian’s face lit up to which Jacques quickly added, “in the future. Not right now.”

“Oh, of course. Yes.” He attempted a sober expression. “I’m perfectly okay with that.”

He rolled his eyes. “Only you could convince me to ever raise children.”

“Well, you’re the only one with whom I’d want to.”

Jacques’s face neutralized then a faint blush appeared.

“Come on!” Elias cried, yanking them both forward again. “To the garden!”

“Yes, yes,” Adrian laughed, giving his husband a content smile. “We’re coming.”

❀❀❀

Pepin leaned over the fence gate, watching the black stallion inside the stall munching on oats in its feed bucket. He was wearing a green men’s bonnet and a dark green doublet, and everything else that made him appear to be a Nebrasian royal.

Emelri crossed the stable over to him, having to pick up long red and white skirts as she walked. On her head was a crimson French hood that covered her very improper short hair. “I was told I might find you here.”

The young man turned in surprise, then his features softened as he took her gently by the waist. “Hey.” His lips briefly found her cheek.

“Can you believe this is where Adrian grew up?”

He breathed out a laugh. “You should have seen me the first time I came here. Though my mother told me stories growing up of Adrian and Queen Gabrielle, seeing this all in person was so overwhelming. I wish Toulou could be here to see it too. They never got to visit Nebrasia.”

She took his hands and pulled him over to a hay bale where they both sat. “I know. I wish they could have been at the wedding.”

“Me too.” He looked down, rubbing a thumb over her knuckles. “I wanted to show them how to ride a horse.”

“You can teach me at least.”

He glanced up and smiled. “Maybe then you wouldn’t be so scared of them.”

She lightly chuckled. “Yeah. Maybe.”

There was a pause, and all the ease melted from Pepin’s face. He bowed his head, and she watched as his chest heaved, and tears slid from closed eyes.

“Oh, Pep...” She reached out and gently wiped the moisture away.

He placed a hand over hers. “It’s been two years,” he whispered. “I should be over it.”

“No one’s over it. You need to mourn however long you need.”

“But what if this is something I can never overcome? What if this is a wound that will never heal?”

“Then that’s okay. Maybe the wound won’t, but you still can.”

She rubbed his nose and met her gaze. “How does that make sense?”

“Well, I still have what my mother did to me,” she touched the place on her shoulder where the Navleni lay underneath, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t move on with my life. You’ll always miss Toulou. We both will, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still find happiness in this life, right?”

He considered her for a moment, then pulled her in closer, pressing wet lips to hers. Pulling back, he tucked some white hair behind her ear. “Oh Emi, are you happy right now, with me, despite everything?”

She smiled, wholeheartedly meaning her next words as she searched the tender eyes that cared for her so deeply. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

THE END