Page 43 of Accidentally Ever After
The phrase rang true, though I couldn’t recall saying it. “How long have we been together?”
“Two months,” he said. “Though it feels like both longer and shorter, somehow.”
“And we’re… happy?” I asked, needing to know.
His expression softened, wings extending slightly in what I somehow knew was affection. “Very. At least, I am happier than I have ever been. You seemed to share the sentiment, before the ritual.”
I nodded, accepting this. Whatever magic or connection had drawn me back to this place, to this being, felt right in a way I couldn’t articulate.
“What happens now?” I asked.
“Now,” he said, offering me his hand, “we prepare for your formal presentation to the four courts. And tomorrow, when your memories return, we begin our life together in earnest—without further interference.”
I took his hand, the contact sending that same shock of recognition through me. Whatever else I didn’t know or understand, this felt right. Felt like coming home.
“Lead the way, Your Highness,” I said, the formal address feeling both strange and familiar on my tongue.
His smile widened. “Caelen, please,” he corrected gently. “When we are alone, you call me Caelen.”
“Caelen,” I repeated, the name resonating through me like a bell. “I think I can remember that much, at least.”
As he led me from the crystal chamber into a world of wonder I both knew and didn’t know, I felt an inexplicable sense of peace. Whatever had happened in the two months I couldn’t remember, whatever would happen in the future, I had made the right choice in returning.
The rest would come back to me in time. For now, it was enough to know I was where I belonged.
Epilogue
“Hold still,” Melronna admonished, adjusting the silver circlet on my brow for the third time. “The ceremonial headpiece must sit precisely at the correct angle.”
“It feels like it’s going to fall off if I breathe too hard,” I complained, resisting the urge to fidget. After six months as royal consort, I still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the more elaborate formal attire.
“It is secured with enchantment,” she assured me, stepping back to assess her work. “Though your human hair does present certain challenges.”
I caught my reflection in the mirror and barely recognized myself. The formal attire for the Winter Solstice celebration was even more elaborate than usual—midnight blue and silver, with intricate embroidery that seemed to move of its own accord, catching the light like living things. The open-backed design had become my signature style at court, a nod to Caelen’s wings while showcasing what he insisted were my “exceptionally appealing shoulders.”
“Will His Highness approve?” Melronna asked, making final adjustments to the drape of the ceremonial cape.
“Caelen approves of me in pretty much anything,” I said with a smile. “Though he’ll probably approve of me out of these clothes even more once the celebration ends.”
Melronna’s wings fluttered in what I now recognized as amused embarrassment. “Consort Morgan, such comments are not appropriate before a formal function.”
“Sorry,” I said, not sorry at all. “Human humor.”
Six months after the Spring Conjunction and the dramatic events surrounding it, I had settled into my role as royal consort with surprising ease. Once my memories had returned following the Unbinding Ritual, I had embraced my position with new certainty, secure in the knowledge that I had chosen this life twice—once with all my memories, and once with none.
King Orion had been quietly furious at his failed attempt to separate us, but with the four courts having formally recognized our union, there was little he could do. Over the months, he had maintained a cold civility, while Caelen and I had thrown ourselves into implementing the changes we believed would benefit the realm.
Chief among these was establishing cautious new connections with the human world. Under our proposal, carefully selected humans with natural affinity for fairy magic were being introduced to the existence of the Seelie Realm through controlled interactions. The program was small but growing, creating bridges between worlds that hadn’t existed for centuries.
I had also made good on my promise to visit Earth, with Caelen accompanying me glamoured as a human. We had settled my affairs, explaining my sudden absence to friends with a plausible story about an unexpected opportunity abroad. I had sold my catering business to my assistant, who had been running it successfully in my absence, and kept my apartment as a base for future visits.
Watching Caelen experience human culture had been both hilarious and touching—his fascination with pizza (“These flavors are remarkably complex!”), his confusion over publictransportation (“Why would anyone choose this over flying?”), his delight in cinema (“Images that move AND tell stories? Brilliant!”). Through his eyes, I had rediscovered the wonder in my own world.
But the fairy realm—Caelen’s realm—had truly become home. My days were filled with purpose now, divided between ceremonial duties as consort and the more meaningful work of cultural exchange that we were pioneering together.
“The guests are assembling in the Great Hall,” Melronna reported, breaking into my thoughts. “The king awaits, and Prince Caelen is completing his own preparations.”
“Thank you, Melronna,” I said, making one final adjustment to my circlet. “I’m ready.”
