Page 40 of And They All Bow Down

It will be as if I’d never met him.

I freeze when I see that the scales are balanced. “No,” I gasp out.

Marcello’s father looks up and Marcello freezes. “No,” I say again, more firmly this time as I look down to the scale. “If you go, I am coming with you.”

“But Laduga… the curse,” Marcello pleads.

“The scales are balanced,” I say, striding toward him. “The Werma once told me that true love is capable of conquering all.”

I’m not sure if I truly believe that.

But I do know that I’m willing to conquer the world for my love.

I step toward Marcello, sliding my hand into his. “I will be joining my husband,” I say as I stare down his father. “And may the crows eat whoever tries to come between us.”

Epilogue

The City of Imperialis

Ineverimaginedthatthe world could be so warm. It is as if I am standing next to a hearth, except that no matter where I go the warmth stays with me, seeping into my bones and into my organs.

I’m currently standing on a balcony, my skirts and hair are whipped by the wind, only it does not hurt. This wind is a balmy breeze hailing from the nearby sea. The sun gently warms my shoulders where they are exposed in my dress.

I’m unsure what I think of this draping fashion. I am used to layers and furs. It feels as if I’m going to float away with this light material. Out of the corner of my eye I see a tail sway back and forth. I smile as I look up to see Drekki perched on the tiled rooftop.

“You behave,” I tell him.

It had taken the people of Imperialis a long time to grow accustomed to my dragons being in the city, but I would not leave them. I left behind the rest of my homeland, but my dragons I keep.

The necromancer’s finger for its part was tied to the runestone and dropped into the sea on our passage over. I miss my home, the village, and especially Tira, but whenever I feel homesick, I remind myself that I am working to save my home.

I have a purpose here, unlike where I was at home, running from the fate of becoming a seer and forced to accept the role of becoming a warrior even though I did not want that either.

I do still feel out of place here though and get stared at in the streets. I hear children make comments about my pale skin and hair. But I don’t mind. These children are learning that I am not a savage and that my people are not barbarians like they have been taught.

My work here is important. I have to believe that I am making a difference and that perhaps someday, through my efforts peace can be made between the people of Nelgata and Imperialis.

I turn, leaning against the pillar as I look into the room. Marcello is sitting at his desk, a writing quill in hand, hard at work on his speech. He is working to become elected into the senate where he will champion an end to the war.

It may be the only hope my people have of surviving the imperial war machine, and it will save many Imperial lives as well.

I feel my mouth turn up into a smile as I watch Marcello write. His cat rubs against his legs, but he doesn’t seem to notice as his quill scratches against the parchment. He bites down on his lip with concentration, a furrow forming between his brows. He must sense my gaze because he suddenly stops scribbling and glances over at me to return my smile.

We have a long way to go in bringing about peace between our peoples, but since months have passed since my curse, I believe that we have that time.

There is no rhyme to the magic, and it is difficult to understand what happened, but it seems that my death and Marcello’s immortality balanced each other out on the scales of our joined souls. I am unsure if this means that we will live a lifetime, or if perhaps we will live several. How does one balance out imminent death and virtual immortality?

Only the gods would know, and the dead do not speak.