Page 150
Ezryn takes position on her other side. “They are waiting to hear from their queen.”
On the Castletree side of the bridge, Aurelia stands, flanked by Astrid and Marigold.
Marigold’s armor clanks as she walks toward us. “Now you can’t be addressing the Vale with a smudge on your breastplate, dearie.” She pulls a handkerchief from who knows where and polishes dirt off Rosalina’s rose-gold armor.
“Or your hair all amiss.” Astrid smooths down Rosalina’s brown curls. A touch of icy magic sprinkles from her fingers.
Magic has returned indeed.
Rosalina gives both her friends a hug. “Let’s do this.”
The other princes and I accompany her to Castletree, which is resplendent in the sunlight, leaves the vibrant green of summer, still untouched by autumn’s chill.
When we stop before the mahogany doors, Aurelia takes her daughter’s hand. “Rosalina, I feel like it’s time I formally asked you. Will you claim your birthright?”
Rosalina draws a deep breath but nods as she looks at her mother. “I’m ready.”
“Well then,” Aurelia says with a wry smile, “it’s time I returned to the Vale officially to do this one last thing.”
She turns to face the crowd, and it doesn’t matter that she’s human, that she cannot wield magic, that she has not served as queen for hundreds of years.
All the Vale, even the wind, goes silent.
“Long ago, a girl fell from the sky, and she planted a garden.” Aurelia’s voice carries across the meadow, loud and strong. “She made lands of steel and blossoms, of water and sand, of leaves and fire, and of snow and starlight. She protected them as best she could. Until she fled. But she was not gone forever. A seed of hers returned and grew into so much more than that queen ever dreamed.”
Aurelia steps to the side and gestures to Rosalina, whose wings flutter shyly.
“She grew into someone who believed in the promise of what the world could become despite what it was. Someone whose hope was strong enough for every living creature.” Aurelia bows her head. “I present to you, your Golden Rose, Rosalina O’Connell, Queen of the Enchanted Vale.”
Rosalina doesn’t step forward; she rises, wings carrying her up as if on their own accord. And I know she flies not to be above them but so she can see each and every one of them.
“Hello,” she says. “My name is Rosalina O’Connell. Daughter of Aurelia and George. Sister of Wrenley. Mate to Keldarion of Winter, Ezryn of Spring, Daytonales of Summer, Farron of Autumn, and Caspian of the Below. Without them and the might of all the realms, this darkness would never have been banished.”
Her voice carries sure over the field, where every gaze is fixed on her. Every soldier at attention. Even the goblins and other creatures have ceased their chatter, watching her with enormous eyes.
“My heart lives in all corners of the Enchanted Vale,” Rosalina continues. “And I vow to spread goodness not only in the four seasonal realms but to all seven realms, to the Below and the Above. I vow to give each and every one of you a world of peace so you may live your stories in light and love.”
The Vale watches for a silent beat, then a cheer rises. Rosalina bows her head and flutters to the ground, landing between me and the rest of her mates. Cannons fire in celebration from the ships, spears clatter against shields, and flower petals are tossed wildly in the air.
“To the Golden Rose!”
“Long live the Queen of the Enchanted Vale!”
“Castletree, born again!”
“The high princes have returned!”
And then—
“Rosalina! Rosalina! Rosalina!”
Like a wave rippling across the realm, the fae, the animals, and all the creatures of the Enchanted Vale begin to bow. The Elderblood ascend with their wings before swooping low. The steeds cross their legs, the goblins fall to their stomachs, and the fae kneel. Aurelia turns to her daughter, tears dotting her eyes, and slowly, reverently bows before her.
One by one, Wrenley, Caspian, Dayton, Farron, Ezryn, and I sink to our knees.
I bow before my queen, my wife, my savior, my once prisoner, my curse breaker.
I bow as I will forevermore before my Rose.