But, before they could stop or say a word, Emperor Alwyn offered a silent arm to Empress Fionerys and headed for a set of doors on the opposite side of the room.
Lunara tried—and failed—not to be disappointed.
They followed the Imperial Sovereigns down a set of winding steps and into a lofty corridor, and right through the first door they came across. As soon as everyone was closed inside the large room—a study if the desk and shelves of books were anything to go by—the Sovereigns whipped around.
“Come here, my gorgeous boys!”
The emperor opened his arms wide and laughed as Brand, Magnus, and Vann all swooped in, a tangle of massive arms and flexing muscles, the empress buried somewhere in the middle. It was ridiculous, and sweet, and?—
“Not what you expected of us.”
Lunara jumped at the sound of Amunkar’s sedate voice beside her.
And you’re absolutely sure escape isn’t an option?
“If I may be so bold as to say so, Your Highness.” She waved a hand at the pile of bodies, shouting and laughing over oneanother. “It doesn’t exactly paint the picture of an all-powerful Empire.”
“Does it not?” he asked. “What better picture than that of love and family?”
“I rather agree with you, Your Highness. I just hadn’t realized that’s what I would find when we got here.”
“Hmm. Fair enough.”
The others had separated themselves, and Alwyn was looking at her like he’d been waiting his entire life for this day to come. Which was odd, to say the least.
Brand smiled and gestured towards her. “Mum, Dad, this is Lunara.”
She bent at the waist, staring down at the tendrils of her hair pooling on the floor. “Your Majesties.”
“No, no. Come on.” A hand at her elbow pulled her upright and she found herself staring into the Emperor’s bronze gaze. “None of that. Let us have a look at you.”
She swallowed as he led her to the empress. Closer, Lunara could see she had eyes like winter bark, peeking from behind ringlet bangs and staring straight into her own.
“The mystery Sorcerit. Have you…” Empress Fionerys cleared her throat and looked at Brand. “You’re sure? The bond is set?”
“It’s done.” Brand smiled down at her, his peace settling like a warm blanket. “A true match, blessed by the Sisters.”
“Brace yourself, witchling.”
The empress transformed with the shriek she loosed, throwing her arms around Lunara.
“A daughter! Finally! Ohh!” She squeezed hard enough to make Lunara wheeze. “You’re so beautiful! Hurt him and I’ll make you wish you’d never been born. I’m so excited!”
“Fi…”
Lunara’s eyes bugged at the exuberant promise of maternal retribution.
She surprised even herself when she said, “Likewise, Your Majesty,” and the emperor barked a laugh.
No one could prove she’d just threatened Her Imperial Majesty’s life, but she’d meant it. Meant every ounce of the protective ferocity barreling over her. It may have been decades since she’d navigated the social battleground of the Evesong’s Elder tier, but she hadn’t forgotten the lessons she’d learned.
The empress tossed her head back and cackled, too. “You’re a right spark, eh? You’ll do fine. Wouldn’t have it any other way for our precious Brand. Please, call me Fionerys. Or Fi, or mum. Whatever you’d like.”
“Indeed, and I am Alwyn. There is no greater joy I would wish for my sons than that of blessed matehood.” The emperor shocked her to her bones when he offeredhera bow, his eyes welling when he straightened. “And if you are Brand’s, then you are ours as well, and we thank the Sisters for their gift. May I embrace you, Lunara, my daughter?”
What in the Five fucking Realms is happening? Daughter this, daughter that… They don’t evenknowyou.
True, but the idea of being wrapped again in paternal arms… To find the safety of family gathered around her, even if it was an illusion…
