Page 110 of Bewitched By the Djinn
Mom is next, cupping my face like she used to when I was little. “I’m so proud of how you held everything together.”
My throat tightens. “I didn’t always do a great job.”
“You did what no one else could,” she says simply. “Now go. Build something for yourself.”
Dad pulls me into a crushing hug. “I’ll fix the house. So when you visit, there will be hot water and no flickering lights.”
I blink hard. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Wait!” Kevin runs into the kitchen, then returns with a paper grocery bag, passing it to Bennet.
Bennet peers inside the top. “What is this?”
Jackie puts a hand on her hip. “Just some stuff we put together that you will definitely need in Aetheria. Hot sauce,peanut butter cups, sour gummies, bleach, penicillin, oh, and toilet paper.”
Bennet chuckles. “This is the weirdest care package I’ve ever received.”
I take his hand. “Welcome to the family.”
There’s laughter, a second round of hugs from everyone for Bennet and myself, and a few more quiet promises.
I glance at each of them one more time, heart full, chest tight, soul steady. “See you soon.”
And then Bennet and I head through the door side by side, leaving one home behind to return to another.
Epilogue
The castle is brighter than it used to be.
Maybe it’s the weather, the spring sun pouring through the arched windows, or the fact that it’s no longer full of secrets and ifrit and traitorous uncles. Or maybe it’s just me, finally exhaling after months of holding my breath and years of trying to stay afloat.
I walk through the east wing with a basket tucked under one arm, the corridor warm with light and the scent of blooming jasmine from the gardens below. Bennet’s voice echoes distantly from the council chamber. He’s in there with Helen and two advisors, probably debating trade routes or ceremonial titles.
He’s good at it. Charming and diplomatic when he wants to be. Dangerous when he has to be. And underneath it all, still mine.
We’re not married yet. Bennet’s been pressing me for a date, but I don’t even want to think about it until after Helen and Delores tie the knot in a few days.
Delores has been overseeing flower arrangements and security with equal levels of intensity. Helen, for her part, won’t stop smiling, and it’s the good happy kind, not the baring of teeth before she throws herself into combat kind.
I round the corner and duck into a quiet, dusty chamber off the main library. My basket lands with a soft thump on a table, and I pull out scrolls and half-crumbling volumes, brushing the edges delicately.
This is what I do now. Mostly. I spend my early mornings training with Bennet and the guards and learning to fight and use my increased levels of magic. Not that we’re expecting any battles, but it’s good to be prepared and it’s fun. Especially when Bennet pins me down.
The Aetherians have started calling me “the prince’s betrothed,” which is weird. I mean, I have a name. But I’ve found a more comfortable title for myself: curator.I’m piecing together the kingdom’s lost art history, tracking ancient artifacts, decoding forgotten stories etched in broken mosaics and fractured murals. I’ve even found evidence of early magical tools that may predate the Ring of Solomon.
That discovery nearly gave Bennet an aneurysm. He now checks in on me whenever I’ve been “too quiet.”
I love it here. Not just the magic or the castles or the endless skies, but the sense that my life is mine now. That I’m building something new, instead of merely surviving day by day. That I’m not alone.
The door creaks open behind me and I don’t have to turn to know who it is.
“I brought lunch,” Bennet says, his voice warm. “Also, Helen says if you don’t show up for dress fittings soon, she’s going to portal into your room and personally zip you into something sparkly.”
I chuckle. “Terrifying.”
“She means it.”
I look over my shoulder at him, leaning in the doorway, holding a basket of food, hair tousled, eyes bright. His sleeves are rolled up and his tie is loose.
