Page 96 of Crowned

Rhea is next, her wooden sword still clutched tightly in one hand. “If any dragons come, I’ll protect us,” she says, her chin jutting out stubbornly.

“I’m sure you will,” I tell her, ruffling her curls. “But try to get some sleep in between battles, okay?”

She nods solemnly as I pull the blanket up to her chin. One of us will sneak in later and remove the sword from her bed once she’s asleep. There’s no point in even trying to wrestle it off her right now.

Finally, I turn to Artemis, who’s already half-asleep, her curls a wild halo around her face. She blinks up at me, her expression mischievous even in her exhaustion. “Will you tell me about the stars again?”

“Tomorrow,” I promise, brushing a stray curl from her cheek. “For now, let them keep watch over you while you dream.”

As I step back, I feel a familiar warmth at my side. I turn to find Malia standing in the doorway, her smile soft as she looks at the girls.

“They’re perfect,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion.

“They are,” I agree, reaching for her hand. “Just like their mother.”

She leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder as we watch our daughters settle. The world outside is still uncertain, still filled with challenges, but in this moment, everything feels right.

This is our life now. Our family. Our future.

And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

The triplets are snug in their beds, their faces glowing with that warm, contented look only children can have after a long day of running wild. The air smells faintly of lavender from the sachets Malia insisted we tuck into their pillows, the scent meant to help them relax – not that these three ever seem to need help winding down.

When she sees me standing in the doorway, Rhea sits upright, her wooden sword balanced precariously against her knee. “What story are you telling us tonight, Daddy V?” she asks, her voice filled with authority, as if she’s the one in charge of bedtime.

“Something with dragons,” Artemis pipes up, her tiny fists gripping the blanket she’s half-kicked off. “Big, scary dragons that roar and breathe fire!”

“And flowers,” Lyra adds softly, her fingers playing with the edge of her blanket. “The story needs flowers, Daddy V.”

“Dragons and flowers, huh?” I say, pulling the chair closer to their bed and sitting down. My gaze sweeps over their faces, each one a perfect blend of mischief, wonder, and curiosity. “I think I can manage that.”

Rhea’s eyes narrow, clearly skeptical. “But it has to have a brave queen too. A queen who saves the day.”

I smirk, leaning forward. “You don’t think I know how to tell a good story, Commander Rhea?”

She huffs, crossing her arms. “You’re good, but you could be better.”

“Better than Baba Bhodi?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

That earns me a chorus of giggles. “No one’s sillier than Baba Bhodi,” Artemis declares, wrinkling her nose like she’s already won the argument.

I smirk and grab the worn leather book resting on the table beside me. It’s a collection of old Aerwynian tales – ones I grew up with, full of battles, heroes, and magic. But these days, the girls don’t want the stories as they’re written. They want them retold, reimagined, with queens and flower fields and heroes who remind them of people they know.

“Once upon a time,” I begin, my voice deep and steady, “in a kingdom surrounded by great mountains and endless forests, there lived a queen. She was the bravest queen the land had ever known, and she ruled her people with wisdom, kindness, and courage.”

“Like Mama!” Lyra whispers, a dreamy smile on her face.

“Exactly like Mama,” I say, my lips twitching into a soft smile. “But this queen had a problem. There was a dragon – a massive, fearsome beast with scales like molten gold and eyes that burned brighter than the sun. It guarded the kingdom’s most beautiful garden, a garden filled with magical flowers that could heal any wound.”

Lyra sighs happily, her head sinking deeper into her pillow.

“The queen needed those flowers,” I continue, my gaze flicking to Rhea, whose sword is now resting against her lap as she leans forward. “But she couldn’t defeat the dragon alone. So, she called upon her most trusted knights – four brave warriors, each with a special gift.”

“That’s us!” Artemis exclaims, pointing at herself and her sisters.

“Not quite,” I say, my tone teasing. “The knights weren’t little girls. They were strong, courageous, and?—”

“And just like you and Baba Bhodi and Papi Reef and Papa Cove!” Rhea interrupts, grinning triumphantly.

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