Page 160 of The Legacy of Ophelia
“It will,” I promised, the words quiet among the revelrous streets of Xenovia, flooded with warriors of all clans making their way to the city center. “That’s why we can’t stop now. Weneed to grasp that future for the sake of”—he waved a hand across the crowds of jubilant faces—“all of them.”
Malakai was quiet as we walked. But just as we reached the building, he swore, “It’s going to end. Whatever it takes, we’re going to get that future where no one has to fight battles of the gods and Angels ever again.”
And I hoped to the Spirits he was right.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Malakai
I scratchedat the collar of my tunic, the heavy embroidery framing the hem rough against my skin. But it waselegantas Barrett and Jezebel took no hesitation in reminding me every time I grumbled about it. A dark mossy-green fabric that was truthfully pretty soft, but with thick silver patterns swirling along the collar and cuffs.
Engrossian colors as Barrett had requested. He may not have been in his home territory for the ceremony, but he was still damn proud of the people he was leading and wanted everyone here to know it.
Dax was dressed in a fresh pair of deep-black leathers, and he’d carry his axes at his back, gleaming to perfection.
Though it was last minute, Meridat had spared no expense, and as I watched my brother fuss over his hair in the mirror for the hundredth time, I was grateful to the chancellor who had no obligation to take us under her wing but did. She was a fucking good leader, and when I’d told her so earlier, she’d said all she wanted was a chance for her people—for all of us—to experience a little bit of joy before the looming threats.
“How are you feeling?” I asked Barrett in one of the back rooms of the city center’s capitol building, Rebel lying at our feet.
“Like this one curl needs to lie flat,” Barrett muttered, aggravated, but I couldn’t even tell which it was. His hair looked fine.
I chuckled, striding to stand beside him and tucking my hands in my pockets. “And about the ceremony? Are you nervous?”
“Not in the slightest,” Barrett said.
“Really?” I asked, brows shooting up.
The prince straightened, eyeing me in the mirror. “I couldn’t be nervous when it comes to Dax. He is…” He faced me head on. “For years, he was everything good in my life, and now, he is the light that reminds me of the good when I am unable to see it.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“These months have been challenging,” my brother said. “I know you’re all aware of that. But if I didn’t have Dax…” He shook his head. “He’s the one that continues to push me. The one I look at and remember why I’m fighting. He’s reminded me nightly of the people that are counting on me, and while my love for him stretches deeper than the valleys, he has also reminded me of all of you.”
“Of us?”
“Dax is everything I’ve ever wanted, but there are other reasons to keep going. These alliances…none of you are just allies to us, Malakai.”
His words knocked on that open cage within my chest, like he’d let a damn bird loose inside and its eager wings rattled the bars.
That’s what love and hope and dreams were, I supposed. The reasons we fought when the battle seemed so brutal. For a daywhen we could simply sayI love youwithout the threat of it being our last breath.
“You’re not an ally, Barrett,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re my brother.”
His face lit up. He’d never stop reacting like that—and I didn’t want him to, despite my complaints. Barrett felt his emotions so deeply and showed them in their entirety. Every damn one. And while those expressions had grated on me initially, I was starting to see them as brighter points of my days.
Like the warmth I felt with Tolek and Cypherion.
Like a pair of ice blue eyes that squinted in laughter.
Barrett was my brother, and I didn’t want him to live in a world where he had to dampen his true self.
“I’m not nervous,” Barrett affirmed, turning back toward the mirror and straightening his tunic, tucking it into a thick black belt with a shiny silver buckle. Rebel sat up beside him, studying his reflection as the prince went on, “Dax reminds me every day. When I’m feeling drastic, he tempers me. He is as much a king as I am—probably a better one some days—and always prioritizes my wants and needs. In declaring our love and stepping into this bonding ceremony, I’m putting him first. Making sure everyone knows where he stands. And hopefully setting an example for all of Gallantia that when things are bleak, we have to choose our happiness.”
Those damn ice blue eyes flashed in my memory again, and the tattoo on my chest ached. Not emotion from the person at the other frayed end of it, just my crippling longing for my own general. For her to know where she stood, to be sure she was the happiness I was choosing every damn day, despite the ink I was forever marked with.
I cleared my throat. “Beautifully said, King Barrett.”
Then, I smoothed down that supposedly stubborn lock he was wrangling and handed him the thin, dark silver crownhe wore as prince. He placed the circlet upon his head, its small onyx spikes poking through his curls. Before I could say anything else, Jezebel peeked around the door in a gown of flowing rose silk.
