“Relax for me,” Lucien says.
And Kazia does.
Afterwards, Lucien slumps on the throne. Kazia sprawls in his lap, trousers hitched up but not yet laced. His hair is a mess, the golden circlet askew, and his heart is calm.
Kazia leans his temple against Lucien’s collarbone. “You could be a prince. I’m the king, I can make anyone a prince.”
Lucien adjusts his grip, holding Kazia closer. His chin rests on Kazia’s head. The heat of him is soothing even when Kazia is warm from exertion. “Call me whatever you want. Doesn’t change who I am or how much I fucking want you.”
Kazia will never tire of hearing that. “You’re unhinged.”
“Then I’ll make a perfect prince.”
Kazia can’t change what he is. He can’t get rid of the magic he hates, any more than he can get rid of the invisible scars in his soul. But he’s survived his past—and he intends to rule his future, with Lucien at his side.
?
EPILOGUE
Six Months Later
Kazia lets Audric sign first, so he can make sure his signature is bigger than Audric’s. His handwriting has developed an elegant illegibility over the past six months. Since his coronation, he’s signed more papers than there are stars in the sky.
This treaty is the most important document so far, signed in duplicate with copies for House Dire and House Sandry. The twin piles of parchment represent months of complex negotiations. Beginning a war is far simpler than ending one.
Nobles, dragonriders, and civilian representatives from both Draskora and Silaise fill Raya Keep’s great central hall. Lucien stands on the dais, his supportive presence warm behind Kazia. All of House Dire and House Sandry’s princes are in attendance, with Audric signing the treaty on his mother’s behalf. The event is a show of trust, but Kazia can’t blame Margot for remaining in Sandrelle.
It was good to work with Audric on the final stages of negotiation. They’ll be neighboring kings for a long time, once Audric takes the Silaisan throne.
As heralds whisk the treaties away for safekeeping, Audric gestures to the crowded hall. “Would you like to say a few words first?”
Kazia looks out at the crowd, familiar and unfamiliar faces. Expectations weigh heavier than the new crown upon his head, as if the scrutiny catches in the delicate peaks of scalestone and gold.
Taking a deep breath, Kazia declares, “We signed the thing. Let’s drink.”
The hall explodes in applause.
“Well, I can hardly follow that up,” Audric says, amused. Extending his arm for his husband, he descends into the celebration.
Lucien steps up to Kazia’s side. Light gleams through the white-gold streaks in his hair. The colors of Tezurit’s scales blend with Lucien’s natural red to shine even more like a flame than before.
“How did it go?” Lucien asks.
Kazia waves at the Silaisan nobles. “Mine is twice as big as Audric’s.”
“You know, it’s not the size that matters, it’s what you do with it.”
Kazia rolls his eyes. “That’s true for cocks, not signatures.”
A nearby noblewoman chokes as she overhears him. Kazia ignores her and veers towards the nearest group of princes. His duty today doesn’t end with signing the treaty.
Far worse, Kazia now has to socialize.
That’s another thing he’s been practicing, though. Polite conversation with people from all walks of life. Kazia’s still nervous around mages, especially since everyone knows he’s a grail. But having Lucien nearby helps, plus all the other peoplewho want Kazia to be safe. For practical reasons, like supporting his regime. Or ridiculous reasons, like caring about him.
Prince Julien and Whisper are in conversation with Prince Audric and his husband, Corin. Whisper is fully blonde now, without any disguise. He’s quieter in the crowd than Kazia remembers him from earlier this year.
Kazia’s never met Julien before, but he recognizes him easily. Julien is of a height with Audric, and they have similar dark hair. The resemblance is superficial, though. Where Audric is reserved, Julien is anything but.
