Page 118 of The Musician and the Monster

Word of King Rhion’s betrayals spread throughout the kingdom, aided by Malik and his many acquaintances throughout the city. Wynni and her troupe of performers provided great help as well, using their fame and talents to support Drystan’s rule. Chesa in particular was an avid supporter and used her talents to turn their story into a performance for stages big and small, a way to spread truth through art and music. She even promised to bring other countries to their aid, if needed, though Ceridwen had no idea how an opera assistant would manage such an outlandish thing.

Not everyone supported the dark prince come back to life to reclaim his throne, though. Many were wary, as they should have been, after years of lies, deception, and dark magic. It would take time to bring the court into order and establish a peaceful reign. Change was always difficult. The road ahead might be more challenging than the one he’d walked, but at least Drystan would have the chance to venture it.

And he wouldn’t do it alone.

“Are you ready?” Bronwyn asked. Her sister had taken extra time with her hair today, even allowing one of the maids to help her curl the rich brown locks and pull them back in a waterfall that cascaded down her back. A perfect accompaniment to the forest-green dress hugging her chest and swishing about the floor.

Ceridwen took one last look in the mirror and nodded. A braid of hair had been pulled over the top of her head, the end tucked into the updo, which splayed behind her like a sunburst. Nerves stirred in her gut, but the anticipation burning in her heart won out. “If I’m not now, I’ll never be.”

Bronwyn looped an arm through her sister’s. “Father might faint when he sees you,” she teased.

A small laugh slipped through Ceridwen’s lips. “If our letter didn’t leave him bedridden, this shouldn’t either.”

He’d be there soon with Jaina, Gerard, and all the residents of the manor in Teneboure. Shortly after the battle, when she was confident Drystan would recover, Ceridwen had written them all to let them know what happened and the changes in the capital. Their letters in response contained both joy and disbelief, yet they’d all promised to come on the train, hopefully to stay for quite a while, if not for good. She’d already researched the best physicians in the city. With their skills, perhaps Father could be healed for good. At the least he’d have more help than they could have ever dreamed of before.

Best of all, Mother’s death had been avenged. Ceridwen prayed that the years of sorrow her death heralded were finally at an end. She couldn’t change the past. She couldn’t save her, but maybe, just maybe, they’d saved other innocents by ending the king’s reign.

“Ceridwen Kingslayer.” Bronwyn’s voice held a mix of awe and pride every time she used that nickname.

Ceridwen rolled her eyes. “I didn’t kill the king.”

“That’s not how I saw it.” She winked.

A smile pulled at her lips despite herself.

“Sisters.” Adair bowed, one arm across the purple-and-gold sash he now wore as a permanent part of his uniform. He’d accepted a position as the head of the household guard with more exuberance than he’d shown in years. To Ceridwen’s surprise, he didn’t mind being away from Lydia. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” he reminded her. Perhaps it did. If nothing else, his new position would raise his lot in her family’s eyes.

Adair escorted his sisters through the castle halls until they reached the large set of double doors that led to the formal balcony. Ceridwen’s heart thundered as she considered who waited outside.

Malik stood nearby, a blinding smile on his face. The rose pin on his chest marked him as Drystan’s advisor. He’d tried to refuse…but not for very long. He had a reason to remain near the castle, one that his attention lingered on now despite her feigned indifference.

“He’s waiting for you,” Malik said, switching his attention to Ceridwen. “They all are.”

She released Bronwyn and stepped toward the doors. With one deep breath, she gathered her courage, letting all her love burn bright and fuel each step forward.

Mother, are you watching today?

“I’m ready.”

Chapter 54

Drystan

Thousands had gathered in the streets outside the castle, jostling one another for the chance to see their new king—their former prince come back to life.

Drystan stood alone in the half-moon space overlooking the crowd below. His attire fit his station. A tailored black coat over a crisp gray shirt embroidered with gold. Black breeches and boots adorned with golden designs completed the base of the look. A gold-and-purple sash crossed his chest, shining with medals and emblems of station. He’d donned the attire several times in fittings, but it still didn’t feel quite right on him despite the tailor’s exceptional work.

Alone, he was incomplete.

Only one thing made him feel better since the gruesome battle during the midwinter party, and he waited for her on the balcony. His future bride, the country’s future queen.

It was the first question he’d asked her after he recovered enough from the battle to think clearly. Blessedly, she hadn’t kept him waiting long before giving a tearful and joyous acceptance.

Their future might not be easy, his reign presently unstable at best. Dragons still prowled the shadows, and rooting them all out might take a lifetime. Even so, he had reason to hope because he wouldn’t be doing it alone.

Drystan’s heart leaped into his throat as one of the double doors leading to the grand balcony groaned open. Commotion rose from the crowd as Ceridwen stepped out into the blinding sun.

She’d never been more resplendent than she looked today, though he often thought that, as if her beauty grew with each moment they spent together.

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