She steps forward with a grin that looks more like a grimace. “I’ll be returning to the convent,” she says dryly, then steps back.
“Wonderful,” Viktor says. “There’s nothing like being surrounded by the Almighty’s children, is there not?” Briony looks like she wants to laugh at that and instead presses her lips tight. Viktor faces the audience again. “Now that we’ve been assured no hearts have been too badly broken, it’s time to meet Brother Dorian’s beloved.” Another dramatic pause. Podaxis and Nadia look over at me with eager grins, while Tabitha and Beatrice fling their hands over to clasp mine. They’re nearly bouncing in the pew as they bite back excited squeals.
I’m surprised by their reaction. I haven’t spoken to them since the night in the parlor, but it seems Dorian has told them about his intentions with me. I meet their eyes and share a grin before looking back at the dais.
Dorian takes Viktor’s place at the center. He clears his throat, then speaks. “This woman may have been eliminated from the competition, but she’d already won my heart before that. We thought our love could never be, for many reasons. We harbored secrets, prejudice, and dark pasts that seemed insurmountable. We were wrong about so many things, and once she stole my heart, there was no getting it back. So…” He angles his body toward my pew and extends his hand. “Princess Maisie, will you have me?”
I nibble my lip, ignoring the gasps and whispers around me. Part of me wants to simply say yes and sit back down, but that isn’t part of tonight’s plan. So, firming my resolve, I shrug off my coat to reveal the gown underneath and make my way to the dais. I feel ridiculous in the dress and would prefer something far more modest, but Nadia insisted I make a splash during the grand reveal. That was after I shut down her suggestion to wear the shimmery dress I wore to the boxing match. Instead, she all but forced me into a confection of lace and chiffon. The bodice is white brocade, the neckline low. The underskirts are white as well but are layered in pale pink and aqua chiffon. The sleeves are enormously puffy, but instead of the stiff ones I’ve worn before, these are fluffy chiffon like the top layers of my shirt. The dress was apparently worn for a wedding scene at the theater, and Nadia spent all afternoon sewing the extra layers to it, as well as silk shells and sea stars on the hem.
The audience goes quiet as I meet Dorian on the dais. He takes my hands, and the light of Sam Sputnik’s camera bulb flashes from below. We pause, eyes locked, letting him take several photographs. Brother Billius comes up behind Dorian. He releases my hands to take something from him. When he turns back to me, he asks, “Will you accept this token of my affection? My choice? My love?”
I look down at the paper bag in his arms, then up at his wry grin. The smell of Lumies wafts into the air. Murmurs move through the audience from perplexed spectators who have no clue as to the significance of the gesture. To me, it’s better than any flower. I burst out laughing. “I will.”
He turns back to Billius and takes something else. Then he gently removes the bag of Lumies from my arms and sets it on the floor. My fingers tremble as he takes my left hand and slides a simple band of gold over my ring finger. I knew the ring would be part of the Ceremony. Even though we decided a hasty wedding wouldn’t be necessary now that he doesn’t need a fae marriage to gain citizenship, Father Viktor insisted Dorian and I get engaged for the sake of the show. But the way he settles the ring at the base of my finger and stares into my eyes, it doesn’t feel like a show at all. My heart flips in my chest, swelling with warmth. “I’ll get you one with pearls someday,” he whispers.
“I don’t need pearls, Dorian,” I say with a smile. “Only you.” I’m about to lean in for a kiss when I feel a hand on my shoulder. It’s Father Viktor. That’s right. I’d almost forgotten the blessing portion of the Ceremony.
Dorian and I step slightly apart. Viktor keeps his hand on my shoulder and closes his eyes as he whispers his prayer. Then, addressing me, he says, “Princess Maisie, the last time you stood on this stage, you told the brotherhood we could kindly…well, you know.” The audience chuckles. “While we may not see fully eye to eye, I confess you shared a perspective I needed to hear. I’ve always considered myself a modern priest, one who would elevate Saint Lazaro’s Lumenas chapter into the current age and beyond. You, however, revealed certain follies in how I’ve chosen to execute my ideas. Like this very pageant. I’ve treated Brother Dorian as a mascot, not a man in search of love. I tried to control him instead of trusting him to follow his heart.”
I try not to let my guilt show. While I agree the church has much growing to do before I’ll fully respect them, he was right about me. For a time, at least. I infiltrated the competition as an assassin. Intended to kill a member of his brotherhood. Plotted murder in the room I was graciously given. Sabotaged other contestants through theft. I now know Dorian kept my dark motives a secret from Father Viktor, even after the attack, but that doesn’t change the other things the priest knows I’ve done. He may believe the fae are the progeny of demons, but…he’s a good man. A forgiving one. Maybe someday, we truly will see eye to eye.
He opens his mouth to speak again, but my words come out in a rush. “Will you forgive me?”
His expression shifts, brow furrowed. For a moment, I don’t think he’ll reply. Then his face softens. “I do, Your Highness. You and Brother Dorian have my deepest blessing.” With a final pat to my shoulder, he steps back. The crowd rumbles with applause.
The camera bulb flashes again and Dorian takes my hand. We turn toward the crowd. I take in the sea of faces before us. Again, I’m struck by the awareness that everything changes after tonight. I have no idea what my daily life will look like after this. I no longer need to steal. No longer need to hide or live in a tiny bedroom in the back of a theater. Dorian too will be free, especially once his citizenship is made final. As a brother who’s taken an Orderandreceived Viktor’s blessing to represent the church in his own way, the world will be our oyster. We only began discussing the possibilities earlier today, and it’s still so new that it’s almost overwhelming. Where do we go from here?
Dorian squeezes my hand. I look over at him, and I know the answer. From here, we go wherever we want to. For the first time for us both, the choice is ours. We’ll make it together.
With my heart racing, mind whirling with new hope and new possibilities, we leave the dais and take the first step toward our new lives.
EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER
My flippers cut through the water with ease. I chase the current, spinning and turning beneath the waves for the joy of it alone. I’ve had my sealskin back for a year, as well as the freedom to don it whenever I choose. Even though it feels like the most comfortable hug when I wear it, my seelie form has become equally as cherished, for it’s the body that allows me to hug, to dance, and to kiss. For travel, though, my seal body tends to be the fastest, especially when coming to and from visits at Father’s palace like I’m returning from now.
The warmth of blubber insulates me as I dive through deeper waters and traverse the colder depths surrounding the Autumn Court lands. I remain close within the confines of the magic emanating from the wall of standing stones that line the perimeter of the isle, never straying beyond its protection. A school of striped angelfish darts by, distracting me. I swiftly turn over and chase them for a while just for fun, just to feel my body move and luxuriate in the water rushing over my coat. Before I get too off course, I turn back in the direction I’m heading—to the Star Court.
Lumenas.
Home.
I don’t make it far before something shiny catches my eye from the sea floor. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I swim toward it. As I draw near, I realize it’s a broken pocket watch, its face shattered. Even so, the brass around it glimmers. My whiskers twitch with my desire to take it. I circle it a few times, debating how badly I want it. I’ve forgone thieving much of the past year. After life began to settle down—after Nimue, the pageant, and the publicity I unwittingly attracted from winning Dorian’s heart—I got to see what life as a proper princess is really like. Turns out, it comes with money. And money can buy all the shiny things I like.
I’ve never quite managed to fully erase the thrill of taking found objects and making odd collections. Now, though, I have rules. My treasures must truly be found, and not on a person or one’s property. The sea, of course, is basically my property if I reason it right.
That decides it for me. I swim low to the ocean floor. Then, reaching for just a touch of magic, I seek my inner form, the one with hands and feet and gangly legs. With my fingers, I part the hidden seam of my sealskin and slip out just the tip of my hand. As quick as I can, I snatch up the pocket watch and reseal the seam. Movement catches my eye, and I find a crab gawking at me. Well, truth be told, I can’t tell if he’s gawking at all, considering his facial expressions are minimal. It’s simply a crab, not a fae creature like Podaxis. Regardless, I can’t help feeling like my antics might have fried the little guy’s brain. I can’t imagine it’s every day one sees a seal with a human hand reaching from its belly. I snap my teeth at it for good measure, then continue on my way. There’s something far prettier than a pocket watch waiting for me back home.
* * *
The sun is settingby the time I reach Orion Street. I’m in seelie form now, dressed in silk trousers and a lace blouse, my sealskin draped over my shoulders. My wardrobe has been significantly improved this past year. No more threadbare tweed jackets and men’s trousers. Now my slacks are of the finest spider silk, my shirts comfortable yet well-fitting. With a small fortune at my disposal, I’ve been introduced to the world of fashion. Not that I’ve taken a full interest in it like Nadia has, nor am I brave enough to experiment with anything too flamboyant. Instead, I’ve discovered upscale boutiques specializing in fae styles, comfortable skirts and dresses, tailor-made slacks, shiny brocade vests, and lace blouses that don’t crowd my neck. I’ve come a long way from dressing like a boy to blend in. Now I simply dress like…me.
I stop outside the Vulture’s Prose, the façade no longer marred by chipped black paint. Instead, it’s painted a midnight blue. Strains of music beckon from inside, telling me the theater is currently in the middle of a show. I open the door and find a packed audience in front of the stage—a stage that has seen many improvements, I might add. It now boasts a brand-new curtain, a polished floor, and several new lighting fixtures. The latter are even electric. Finally. One of the first things I did after I discovered just how much money I have to my royal name was buy a share of the theater. I’m now a partner in its ownership. Mr. Tuttle was more than happy to give up half the control so long as I was paying for all the renovations and improvements I wanted to make. Now the Vulture’s Prose has earned a name for itself on Orion Street, renowned for its varied forms of entertainment from plays to burlesque and acrobatics.
I head for the back of the audience, where I find Podaxis. He’s in seelie form—the form he most frequently wears now—staring at the stage. His lips are in a lopsided grin, eyes entranced as he watches Nadia’s lithe form turn, bend, and sway as she performs on her lyra.
With a grin, I elbow him in the side.
