Page 140 of The Ballad of a Bard

Cobalt bore the blood of Altivar, even if the circumstances of his birth were less than ideal. Which meant that he- as of now- was the only option for the throne. And with his illnesses curedthanks to not only the death of the Prince, but the heart of War that he’d consumed to give him strength, there was nothing that held him back. He was strong, healthy, and mature.

Crimson was so proud of the man he’d become- even if he remained an eight year old boy in her mind. It was hard to picture him as a twenty-one year old adult. He kept true to his promise and had topped her by an inch when it came to height. It wasn’t much but she loathed the difference. The fact that heryoungersibling was taller than she was.

Cobalt, however, delighted in that.

Rubbed her face in it, actually.

West was still taller than both of them, again not by much. But the three of them had developed an unbreakable bond over the years, one that grew until nothing could ever compare. Connor stuck around after he returned from Valkrigge with his few possessions, learning the tricks and tells of the Spinning Compass as he offered to take over for West. Cobalt had asked him to return to his old position as captain of the Watch, and he’d happily accepted if it meant staying by his side. Even Thalias had gratefully turned it over, wanting to step back and enjoy life as a husband and a father as he turned his job to the side.

Crimson put her blades away and took up the position of head librarian, spending her days basking in the thousands of books that the castle had to offer her. She loved the fight, loved the passion it brought out but her days of bloodshed were long gone.

It didn’t stop her from joining her soulsaint in the yard, practising with Rook and Satori who continued to stay in the Watch. Damien remained as well, by Cobalt’s side as his most loyal protector. Leysa had retired due to her old age but Renfri took up a place in the healing wards, learning the skills behind keeping people alive instead of watching the murderous sport of the Pits.

Zion took over the Blades of Blood in Grimm’s absence and lowered the age requirement for entry as well as banished the death penalty for females who wanted their shot at glory. After she’d taken down two competitors in the span of forty minutesandkilled a Saint- it was agreed that the sexist rule made no sense. Not to mention her previous one hundred kills.

Killing one’s opponent was also done away with, and the games became simply that- games.

Red Lyric became a household name that belonged to the past, a legend to tell young children and a hero to those who wanted to try their hand at victory. Crimson didn’t hide from that part of her life, no matter what had been done under the guise of her alter ego. She didn’t deny that that was who she’d been in another time.

And West had peeled one of her posters off the wall of the Bronzed Goblet, framed it and gifted it to her on the year of their anniversary together. It now hung above their bed, in a proud spot for her to remember what she’d done, who she’d been to survive. Her daggers had been hung along each side, proudly decorating the wall.

As she rotated around the palace with additional banners for the maids to hang, she found her brother looking up at the simple seat of power that he’d inherit tonight. There was nothing fancy about it, unlike the chairs that Altivar had liked to use as his thrones. A tall, curved back that angled up into a point, teakwood for the material without any sort of velvet lining or satin seat. There were carved designs that complimented the chair around the back and the rectangular arm rests, but nothing beyond that.

She nudged him with her elbow into his rib, catching hisattention. “Are you ready?”

Cobalt turned his head sideways to glance at her, a boyish smile curving his lips that he learned from West. He’d grown up to be very handsome, taking after their mother in almost every way. There was no sign of Altivar and she was thankful for that. He was lean, but there was muscle there thanks to West insisting that he stay at the castle from the age of eighteen.

A fight that hadn’t gone over easy, but he’d agreed to it in the end after Crimson sided with her partner and delivered the closing argument.

It was important for him to learn how to handle the affairs of the people, the politics and the correct way to fight. So he’d taken up West’s old apartment within the castle for the last three years while she and West had stayed at the Spinning Compass. Connor lived in their old apartment, the very one that he’d fallen in love with and added some sorely needed new life to it. She hardly recognized the place anymore with the changes he’d made.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Cobalt’s voice was low, far deeper than she liked hearing but that was what happened when little brothers became big men, grew into big shoes and took up positions of power. “As long as I have you two by my side, I think I can handle it.”

Crimson squeezed his shoulder. “Always, Blue. I never left you before, and I’ll never leave you now.”

He chuckled. “Times have gone fast. The last three years especially. Satori’s been relentless about teaching me how to box, to learn to defend myself without any weapons.”

She grimaced. “I wasn’t too fond of my last round with her either.” She rubbed at her arm. Even if she hadn’t picked her knives back up again as Red Lyric, Crimson knew the importance of keeping her figure in shape. In practising occasionally for thesake of muscle memory. “That woman knows how to make you ache after, and not in a good way.”

Ways that West did.

Her brother agreed, “I think the only reason she let me win today was because I need to look perfect for my coronation tonight.”

Servants bustled past with baskets full of laundry, scullery maids carried candied treats that she knew Cobalt was fond of. Sentries marched by with shields and spears in their grasp and folk prepared everything from lighting all the candles to scrubbing the countertops and marble staircases.

“It’s in an hour. You should get ready.” She chided with the tone of a bothersome mother that she hadn’t needed to use for quite some time. “I was on my way to bathe and get dressed. I suggest you do the same.”

Cobalt rolled his broken-glass eyes at her. “Maybeyoushould be Empress, instead of me.”

Crimson gestured down at herself dramatically. “Full Saint over here, remember? I’m still getting used to that. I highly doubt I can handle that kind of fameandrule a country. You’re only more thanhalfa Saint, so get upstairs and get ready.” She winked and added, “Your Majesty.”

He set a light, playful punch to her ribs before listening to her advice and hopping up the stairs to his room. With his long legs, it didn’t take him very long to reach the top.

They’d transformed Osira’s old chambers for him, since it wouldn’t be appropriate for him to reside anywhere else. That was where he headed and she stayed glued to the floor until his black head of hair was no longer visible from her vantage point. Then, Crimson turned in the opposite direction and made for her own rooms, knowing that her partner would be found preparing for the event as well.

She was correct as she opened the doors to see him slipping one muscled arm into his familiar sapphire doublet, buttoning the golden buttons down the front. He’d kept the constellation tattoos this time around, leaving the facial hair behind much to Dream’s chagrin.

Who complained about it often.

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