Page 158 of The King’s Queen

Noctus finally stabbed his crystal sword into the sky—releasing a slash of power, and changing the future of Calor forever.

Yes, this was a celebration of myself and Noctus, but it was also a mark of change.

The elves, who had once hunted the shadows to near extinction, were offering themselves as the shield and swords—the protectors—of the people they used to fear.

And as Noctus grabbed my free hand and together we raised our intertwined hands into the sky, it finally dawned on me.

I think…I might know how to return the bond with Noctus.

Epilogue- Noctus

Noctus

According to the Mors tradition, royal weddings were supposed to be followed with days of feasting and celebration, with no work being done by the public or the newlywed couple.

Life, it seemed, would not allow us that relaxation, so the day after our wedding found Chloe and me standing at the barrier halfway up a mountain, tracking the five mantasps that had been ramming into the perfectly sound barrier, terrifying my citizens enough to make them disturb us to request their extermination.

I don’t just hate mantasps, I despise them. I unsheathed a sword and stared at the hazy wall that protected my realm.No, I completely and utterly loathe and abhor them.

The shadowy figures of the mantasps moved on the other side of the barrier, and my eyebrow twitched in my irritation.

Now that I’m free from the Paragon’s shackle, perhaps I should spend a week in the wasteland outside the barrier, tracking all the mantasps I can find and forever curbing their population. They must be unusually prolific given how often they enjoy banging into my barriers, even though it’s to no avail as they are too weak to get through.

“Are you sure about this?” Chloe—holding Destruction and already wearing her weapon-granted armor—fidgeted at my side. “I’ve heard a lot about the fae realm being infested with a toxic miasma. Just because I’m immune to negative magic doesn’t mean that will equate to being immune to all that ooze.”

“If you aren’t, Destruction will offer some basic protection,” I said. “And your immunity to magic still means you’ll be able to move through the barrier at will. If you start to feelanypain, simply cross back into our realm, and Charon will administer a potion to you.”

I motioned back to where Aristide, Ker, and Charon were waiting for us with two all-terrain vehicles we’d ridden in to get up the mountain.

Aristide, apparently, was choosing to keep the wedding celebrations rolling even if the newly wedded couple was not. He was sipping at some kind of blood drink that had a paper umbrella in it, lounging in one of the vehicles.

Ker lounged with him, eating a piece of our wedding cake that she’d brought along in a Tupperware container. She offered a gob of frosting to Chloe’s trash griffin, who had taken up residence on Ker’s boot.

Charon, at least, had the decency to be standing at attention, watching us.

“If you’re sure, we can at least give it a shot,” Chloe said. “Isn’t that right, Truck?”

Destruction—a weapon that had once struck fear in the heart of the strongest monarchs, who had been beheld in terror and spoken of like a curse—made a low, moaning-groan noise, and its jewels practically shone when Chloe used the ribbon tied around her waist to buff out a fingerprint on its pole.

I watched the interaction with a removed sense of disbelief and pride.I mean, I find her absolutely charming and lovable, so I suppose it’s not so out of the realm of possibilities that she would similarly tame the elves’ most dangerous weapon.

“I’ll head in first,” I said. “Step through when you’re ready.” I squeezed her hand, then stepped through the barrier.

The wall—made of my magic—hummed, strong and solid. The vibrations of the magic made bones buzz, but it didn’t feel unpleasant until I stepped into the unprotected portion of the fae realm.

Past my barrier, everything was dead. The ground was a burnt black—there was no plant life or regular animal life that could survive the all-consuming miasma, which sucked the magic out of the living. Only monsters like the mantasp could live in it.

The air was acidic and sour, and as soon as I breathed it in a barely noticeable pain bloomed in my lungs from the poisonous fumes.

My sudden presence startled the mantasps, who retreated a few steps, clicking their giant mandibles in anger.

The monsters were an unsettling mixture of wasp and praying mantis. Standing upright on their back legs, mantasps were roughly the size of an average human. They were covered in a gray-ish brown exoskeleton, and each possessed a stinger the size of a small dagger that stuck out of their bloated abdomens. Their favorite method of killing was to grab their prey with the four limbs they didn’t walk on and hold them—since each leg was tipped with scythe-like claws—before finishing them off with their stinger.

I watched the mantasps as I absently adjusted the black, collar-like leather necklace Chloe had given me the night before as a wedding gift. It fit comfortably around my neck, snapping shut magnetically, but I was most—and probably stupidly—pleased because it somewhat resembled the bond collar she wore, making us match.

“Okay, partner,” Chloe blithely said, her voice slightly warped as it floated through the barrier. “Let’s take out some mantasps.”

She stepped through the barrier, pausing—her muscles tensed as she adjusted to the wasteland.

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