Page 192 of Between Despair and Hope

“You found me,” he said.

“Were you hiding?” I asked, tracing my gaze over the tilt of his head, the arch of his neck, the long line of his leg.

“No, dear heart. Not hiding. Ruminating.”

“Oh?” I sat on the edge of the dais, gathering my nightgown and robe to sit delicately.

“You have a seat beside me, you know,” he grumbled, staring pointedly until I moved to the throne beside him. “Better. I like you sitting there.”

“Did Cyran say yes?”

“I don’t think he felt he had much choice, but yes. He got straight to work with Reminy. I found my old text from back when I was taught, and I’m hoping it helps him.”

“On the Old Language?” My jaw dropped as he nodded. “You just…lent that to a Folterran prince? You do realize how rare that book probably is, right?”

“I can do what I want now, remember?” He chuckled, though it felt hollow.

“What were you ruminating on, love?”

“The path we took to get here. The gods couldn’t have made it any harder on us, could they?”

I tucked my legs up beneath me, turning on the throne beside him. It had been surreal, seated there beside him, the same diadem I’d worn for our wedding resting far heavier on my head than it was in reality. Even in my wildest dreams of Rain and a future we could have created together, I had never once imagined being his queen. I’d imagined him as king countless times. I’d imagined him seated on a throne, though the one in real life was far less impressive than the one in my mind. It had been massive, gilded and ostentatious, like the ones in Elora’s storybooks. Though it was still impressive, almost large enough for us to sit side by side, it still wasn’t as grand as I’d always dreamed. I’d also never pictured a queen’s throne beside it. Even when Lucia had been alive, I’d never once seen her seated beside him. Rain had been alone in every version I’d imagined; I wondered if it was because I’d wanted him to be alone if it couldn’t be me, or if it was an act of self-preservation. Putting my elbow up on the arm of the throne—mythrone—I rested my chin in my hand and gazed upon my husband. Rainier Vestana, a king of the Three Kingdoms, and owner of my mind, body, and soul. I could have wept.

“They say it is pressure and hardship which makes the most precious of gems,” I said.

He grunted in assent, turning toward me, and the thin glint of moonlight coming in from above illuminated a sheen in his eyes.

“I’ve changed my mind. I want you sitting here.” He rubbed his palm down his thigh, and I was reminded of the thick layer of corded muscle beneath his breeches. I stood, leaving my robe on my own throne, nearly giggling to myself at the sheer absurdity of it.

“Do you remember that day beneath the willow? The last day?” I asked, perching myself on his knee, sitting daintily in his lap. The throne we sat upon was older than King Soren; I was afraid of breaking it. But Rain wasn’t having any of it, using his strong grip to move my legs to either side of his own, a symmetry to the memory I’d mentioned. The soft velvet of the fabric seat felt nice where it touched the skin of my bare leg, my nightgown sliding up as we adjusted.

“Do I remember the last day we had together before it all went to shit? Yes,” he said, amusement clear even with his dry tone.

“Do you remember what we talked about?”

“You’d told us about wanting to help people with your divinity, and I told you I wanted you as my queen.” I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his forehead, and he grinned up at me. “It appears the gods have listened to at least a few things I’ve asked for.”

“We also talked about how much you didn’t want to be like him, like your father.”

“We did, yes.”

“I’m sorry I ever compared you to him.”

“You already apologized for this,” he said, leaning forward to trace his lips over my jaw as he spoke. “And I’ve forgiven you for everything—from the moment I met you until the moment I draw my last breath. You don’t need to apologize.”

“I know. Still. I’m sorry I ever—” At the look on his face, I cut myself off, shaking my head. “What you did at the Cascade and with Clearhill…it has to hurt knowing Folterra holds it now. And after what happened in the fall.”

“The people are safe. That’s what matters. Raj and Dewalt did everything right.”

“They did what you’d taught them to do, trusted them to do, expected them to do. You’ve been a king far longer than Soren has been dead.” He dipped his head, pulling my sleeve down and tracing my tattoo with reverie, his lips and tongue moving in tandem to worship my skin. “My king,” I whispered.

“I was going to tell you I was in love with you that day. But—”

“But I wouldn’t let you.”

“I regretted never saying it,” he murmured, hands sliding up and down my sides, caressing the curve of my hips up to my waist.

“I regretted not letting you. You know, in all my imaginings of you on your throne one day, there was never anyone at your side.”

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