Page 113 of The Flame King's Queen

Either way, we all climb atop our mounts and head for western Maledin.

Amriste is beautiful in the fall. All the trees in the surrounding woods have turned red and gold, and the sun shines brightly in a sky with scudding clouds. There’s the first bite of winter in the air as we stand in front of Biddy Hawthorne’s empty cottage with Isavelle’s father.

“We cleaned up the inside,” he says quietly, and I take that to mean they mopped up all of poor Biddy’s blood. “Though it’s been standing empty for a while, and it might be a bit dusty now.”

“I don’t mind dust. I would like to prepare the cottage for its next witch.”

He eyes her curiously. “Do you have a witch in mind?”

Isavelle sighs. “Sadly not yet, but I hope that I hear of one soon. I know she’ll be welcomed here by you all.”

“That we will. We miss our Mistress Hawthorne watching over us with all her crows’ eyes. It hasn’t been the same without her.”

While Isavelle cleans and tidies the interior of the cottage, Fiala and Anise patrol with their wyverns, and I tend to the garden, pulling up weeds and cutting back the dead and overgrown plants. I get a bonfire going at the bottom of the garden and burn all the cuttings and garden refuse.

After a few hours, Isavelle comes out with an armload of things to add to the fire. “Moths got into a lot of the blankets and bedding, but I’ve packed what’s still good away with some herbs that will repel the insects. The crockery is all clean and put away, and the chimneys and floors are swept. The next witch will find the place very cozy, I hope.”

We turn to look at the cottage together, and it does look like a cozy place for a witch to live. I was concerned that Isavelle might find this work upsetting, but she seems contented. “Your cheeks are glowing,sha’lenla.”

She smiles up at me. “Mistress Hawthorne always said that it does a witch good to get her hands dirty.”

“It does a king good as well.”

Isavelle takes an appreciative look around the garden. I know she misses her crone. “You’ve done a good job out here. The place is ready. Now all it needs is a witch.”

A few weeks later,Isavelle suggests a family outing for the two of us, Sylvi, our dragons, and their fledglings. Esmeral and Scourge’s offspring are big enough to keep up with their parents on a short flight, and so we don’t go far. We land in a meadow lush with feathery grasses, and settle down to share fruit or morsels of raw chicken, depending on whether the picnicker has scales or not.

I admire the fledglings as they swallow their treats and play with each other. There’s Attar, the black and gold male. Mairal, the black and turquoise male. Nissa, the dainty gold dragon who has been winning hearts wherever she goes. And Taissa, a black and red female who is the spitting image of her father at that age, and similarly fierce.

Not long ago, I would have been too worried about Emmeric or the lich to risk taking all our vulnerable young ones out of the city without a guard, so this feels like a luxury.

I cast a long look around at the dragons, and at Isavelle feeding Sylvi. For all that I am King of Maledin, this is what I need to be happy. A meadow outside the city walls. My mate, our baby, our dragons, the fledglings, and a view of the castle in the sunshine.

My family, and our home.

“You’re smiling so beautifully, my love,” Isavelle says, tucking herself under my arm and stroking my cheek.

“I am. I have a lot to smile about.”

“Would you like something else to smile about?” she asks. She takes my hand and presses it against her stomach.

“You’re pregnant?” I exclaim. I bury my face in her hair. There it is, the telltale scent of a baby growing inside her.

She nods, smiling from ear to ear. “This time, I knew the scent and felt the change in my body.”

“I knew it,” I say, kissing Isavelle. “I felt it after your heat. I was even more reluctant than ever to be parted from you.”

“Zabriel, I’m so excited. May this little one be as strong and healthy as Sylvi, and may they be happy for all their days.”

Attar sees how I’m caressing Isavelle’s belly, and he presses his front legs over her stomach as well and sniffs curiously.

Isavelle laughs. “And may both our children find their dragons among these beautiful fledglings.”

I take Isavelle’s face in my hands. My chest feels so tight with emotion and all the feelings I want to express. The peace we’ve found feels so tenuous, but I am going to do everything in my power to make it last. “I want to leave Maledin in safer hands than I found it. For our daughter, the future queen, for our second child and all who follow, and for the people of this country who have been through so much.”

Isavelle smiles up at me. “Sylvi will be the queen even if she is an Omega?”

I press my brow against hers and close my eyes, giving thanks for my mate and all she has done for me and our country. “I think we’ve all learned that Omegas are tougher than they look and know how to inspire thousands. Sylvi will have her beautiful mother as a role model. She will never doubt what an Omega is capable of.”

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