epilogue

Music and merriment shuddered along the marble steps of the Aureate Theatre as Dr Isuka made her way upwards. Within these gilt-lacquered walls, a formation of sprite ballerinas danced as if they were marionettes pulled by the strings of the orchestra, their bodies glitter-smeared and shimmering under the spotlight. They pranced en pointe as if reaching towards the stars, flaring skirts of petals, feathers, and butterfly wings bouncing in immaculate precision to their movements.

The scientist didn’t spare a moment to become entranced by the show, too focused on completing her objective—reaching the velvet-padded booth of the solarite she intended to see. She reached the top of the endless stairs as the current dance finished, and the theatre roared with an ovation as the curtains fell for an interlude. It was a perfectly timed arrival. Almost certainly planned. But such was the meticulous attention to detail Dr Isuka had come to expect of her enigmatic partner.

Inside the booth, Dr Mielette clasped her hands in delight and brought them with a wistful sigh to her chest. Upon noticing her guest, her star-flecked visage twinkled in greeting as she patted the empty seat beside her.

“You’re as punctual as always, Dr Isuka,” Dr Mielette commended, and she lifted a bottle of red wine from its holder. “Can I interest you in a drink?”

The bottle popped open to release the sound of an ocean wave inside a shell. As Dr Mielette filled the glasses, the flow of liquid came laced with a mermaid’s melisma.

“Thank you.” Dr Isuka took a sip, finding it to be a sweet, sharp white that tasted of citrus peel and peach. “I came as soon as I could, following your instructions down to the letter.”

“Yes, I am most pleased.” Dr Mielette beamed in response. “We have a lot to discuss, you and I. I thought it best to do so in an area where we can have both discretion and privacy.”

“You’re looking well,” Dr Isuka said, unable to help noticing how untouched she looked in comparison to the other victims of the occasso assault.

“I had a narrow escape from the atrocity. Others… were not so fortunate.” Dr Mielette’s glow dimmed. “What is even more unfortunate is that we were unable to retrieve Dominus Calantis from Rosâtre before his untimely passing.”

“He’s dead?” Dr Isuka stifled the flare of rage that overcame her. “What a nuisance.”

“I had feared someone would do away with him in the château walls, but his loss will come as a great inconvenience to our work. Especially since we can’t regenerate him again.”

Dr Isuka exhaled in defeat before perking up again. “Fortunately, he is not the only occasso of Calantis blood still living.”

“Accessing Darius Rex will prove troublesome considering how well-protected he is.” Dr Mielette swirled her wine in her glass. “If only it were possible to move on him without risking a devastating backlash. Ah, something to invest in for the future, I suppose.”

“In the meantime, our work continues with the victims of Sadik Yilan’s hubris,” Dr Isuka said. “Hopefully, the presence of Dominus’s blood in their system will be enough to give us what we need. Total eradication of chaos from the body.”

“Without being able to recover it,” Dr Mielette added with emphasis. “Dominus was able to counter the effects that the Pit had on him and regain his abilities. That won’t serve. And that’s why we still needed him.” She huffed, massaging her temples. “I have Sadik Yilan remanded in the House of Corrections. After all the trouble he wrought, I have means to keep him there for the remainder of his lifespan. But he is being cooperative and accommodating. I think he believes that if he does enough to aid us he’ll be allowed to see Elina.”

“And will you allow him?”

“I’ll consider it. He has at least returned the grimoire to solarite possession.”

“Good.” Dr Isuka pressed her lips together in thought. “Now that we have it back we should be able to divine more on chaos. Particularly, these chimeras Darius Rex has been producing.” She had made the last one she caught a subject of obsession. The creature was unlike anything she’d witnessed of monsters in the past. “As for Yilan… have the nightmares started?”

“Not quite yet, it seems. I am, however, keeping a close eye on him and will expect them to start soon now he’s used the grimoire to call upon Calante directly. How soon was it for Dr Hariken?”

“I don’t…” Dr Isuka looked away from her, swallowing, for the answer shamed her too much to share. “I don’t recall, exactly.”

“That’s fine,” Dr Mielette soothed. “We can use Yilan to divine what we did not do with her.”

“And…” Dr Isuka cleared her throat. “Ser de Lis?”

“She has reported that Princess Laila has absconded with the rex.” Dr Mielette let out a cackle. “Oh, Amira must be furious. How poetic. Two bloodlines built to destroy each other uniting in love. A weed that sprouted entirely against nature’s design.”

“Do you think we could use that?”

“Oh, most certainly. However, such a thing will require some careful planning on our end. Ser de Lis will be useful. She seems adrift, which is perfect for our aims. Keep an eye on her.”

“As you wish,” Dr Isuka said.

The blare of music cut the conversation short as Dr Mielette wiggled in her seat.

“The show returns!” she exclaimed with glee, turning towards her companion. “Do stay for the rest of it, Dr Isuka. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before.”

Dr Isuka nodded and settled into her seat as the lights dimmed for the opening of the curtains.

Once her decision to return to Mortos had passed and the gravity of its repercussions cemented, a deep melancholy swept over Laila and left her too physically and emotionally drained to do anything but curl in Darius’s bed. Her bed. Their bed. This was all hers now. This had been what she’d traded her summer-blessed country for.

Laila nestled within a mass of sanguine silk, overwatched by the gargoyles looming from the ceiling of the ironwood canopy. Her eyes drifted over to the window, where the unconquerable forest of Mortos reigned eternal, ever poised to invade.

Tears fogged her vision as she wondered how long it would take before she stopped expecting to see the view from her old window—the astronomical clock tower’s stained glass face, how the sun always caught the chameleon flecks of seagreen, blue and gold in perfect sequence as it rose.

Perhaps she deserved the world that she’d chosen. Tainted as she was by murder, she couldn’t bear to face the innocent glow of rising starlets looking up to her in awe and knowing how much her own shine had dimmed. How far she’d fallen.

“What are you thinking about?” Darius wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed the side of her head.

She fiddled with her carcanet and twisted the answer on her tongue. “You.” She turned to nuzzle him. “Being with you. How much I’ll have to grow acclimated to… all of this.”

“It’ll take some time,” he said, “and as for Lyra…”

“I don’t want to talk about her.” Hearing her name still pierced Laila’s chest. She had not expected happiness, much less acceptance, but the venom that trickled off her former friend’s tongue still blistered.

“I think you should.”

“No.” She burrowed her face in the crook of his neck. “She made her feelings clear. There is nothing more to say about it. You’re all I have, now.”

Darius grew silent upon the soft whisper of this confession. “I will always be here when you need me.” He stroked a hand down her hair. “But I shouldn’t be all that you have.”

“I know. But you are the choice that I made. I thought about what would’ve been… if I’d made the good choice. The right choice. If I’d stayed at my mother’s side like the dutiful princess I was raised to be and refused you. I did it before. I stand by that choice. But all I can remember from those years is the niggling ‘what if…’ that wouldn’t leave me be. The imagined future of if I’d said yes to you. It would soothe me during those failures when I was attempting to live up to expectations. And I knew if I refused you again I would forever be plagued by that ghost.” A lump formed in her throat. “I’ve never said that to anyone before.”

“I didn’t realise you’d thought about it so much.”

“Well, you were shockingly difficult to forget.” Laila breathed an embarrassed laugh. “I had spent every waking moment having a life anyone could dream of… yet the moment I closed my eyes, I longed for you.”

He leaned in to seal their mouths together and drew from her a slight muffled breath. “I know I don’t deserve to have you. You ought to be with an honourable, gallant knight. Someone who walks your righteous path. That’s something I can’t ever be… but you’ve granted me the freedom to pretend to be something other than a monster. And I needed that.”

“Don’t speak so poorly of yourself. I’ve been loved before by the gallant and the righteous—neither has devoted themselves to me with quite the ferocity that you’ve shown. You need a bit of monstrousness for that, I think.” Laila’s hands rested lightly against his kaftan, melding her body as much as she could to his to chase his lips again. His kisses always served to anchor her when she felt adrift in her sorrow, giving her a core of stillness she couldn’t help but soak herself in.

“Remember what I promised you?” he murmured against her lips, nose stroking against hers.

She gazed into his eyes and nodded. “We have all the time in the world to make this right.”

“And we will.” He traced his thumb along her cheek. “Just trust me.”

“I do.”

Laila kissed him, hungrier this time, entwining her arms around his neck to crush their bodies together. “I don’t want us to ever be apart again.” She unbuttoned his shirt and kissed along his collarbone down to his chest.

“We won’t be,” he vowed.

“I want you to wrap your arms around me so tightly they’d never pry us free.” She was already beginning to unbutton his trousers. “They’d have to chisel away at us like stone.” She’d barely gotten them down to his ankles before he seized her by the waist.

There couldn’t have been a worse time for the door to knock.

“Your Majesty?”

Darius huffed in impatience. “What is it, Kirill?”

“My apologies for the disturbance, but your presence is required urgently.”

Darius suppressed a long sigh and then muttered a word underneath his breath, clearly agitated. “Can it not wait?”

“It’s regarding the matter of the prime prefect.”

That seemed to be enough for him to know he couldn’t let the matter lie. “Apologies, princess.” Darius reached for his trousers and pulled them up his legs. “I have to see to this.”

“Don’t go,” she pouted at him, hoping to make herself seem too pitiful to abandon. “Aren’t I more important?”

He tugged on the rest of his clothes while giving her a look of exasperated fondness. “Night’s still young and we have many ahead of us yet.” He brought her into his arms and kissed the tip of her nose. “Wait for me.” He dropped his mouth to hers next long enough for her to try and grab hold of him. Then he bolted from the room before she could catch a grip.

“Hmph,” Laila sniffed, chest flaring with resentment. Well. She hardly needed him to find release. Flopping back on her stomach, she resumed where she was before and caressed along her breasts, squeezing and kneading, gliding her fingers along her thighs to build anticipation until finally she was touching herself again.

It felt good to relieve frustration, somewhat, but it didn’t help that all the while she kept fantasising Darius’s presence. His voice crooning in her ear to encourage her. The weight of him pressed atop her body. His breaths. His lips leaving a trail along her neck and shoulders…

Her orgasm came quick but left her unsated, and she loathed herself for the fact. Grunting, she slithered off of the bed and sought for any trace of him she could find, but the only thing she could lay hands on was the cloak he’d abandoned in his hurry to dress.

She brought the dark mass of velvet to her nose, breathed in deep, and wrapped it around her shoulders. The fabric rippled along the curves of her body, heavy, but not quite heavy enough to pretend they were his arms around her. It was no use. She had to be with him.

Under the hushed gloom of dwindling candlelight, Darius took an audience with his prefects to discuss a number of topics. Delanus. His mother’s presence at court. The uncertainty of relations with Soleterea after the recent disaster, and how to proceed.

“I understand your concern, what with the prime prefect being… indisposed at this time.” Darius was reclined on his bone throne with a leisurely grace, one knee tucked over the other, his temple pressed against his thumb and forefinger. “But I have hand chosen a replacement to appoint in his absence.” With this, he made a gesture to beckon her forward. “Sabina Levitia.”

Prefect Augustus snorted in disbelief. “Surely, you jest.”

“It is customary for an heir to take up her predecessor’s mantle in the event he is impaired, is it not? As Prime Levitis has been imprisoned, his eldest child is the most eligible candidate.”

“She’d be an heir if she were—” Augustus snuffed his off-colour joke when met with Darius’s baleful stare. “As you command, Your Majesty.”

“Then it’s settled.” Darius steepled his fingers. “You are all dismissed but Prime Levitia.”

Sabina resisted her instinct to wither at the envy-driven looks they gave her before filing out of the room. Once she was sure they were sufficiently alone she turned towards Darius. “You cannot be serious.”

“I confess to not seeing the levity. Whilst your father serves his punishment, I shall need a replacement. And you’re exactly what I’m looking for. Strong, intelligent, adaptable. What’s more is that you are a choice that might end up appeasing all factions.”

Sabina straightened in her seat, lowering her ankle from her knee and her elbow from the top of the divan. “I’m listening.”

“You are an occassella from a distinguished clan. You have passed the trials of the First Rite, so no occasso can claim you have no idea of what burdens him. Being an occassella on the fringes means the Vidua Nocte are likely to take to you, too.”

“I see.” Sabina realised he’d given this thought, much more than she anticipated. “Even so, this”—she gestured around them—“is all a farce, is it not? You don’t honestly mean to unseat my father.”

“Not yet,” Darius said. “However, there may be something more vital I require him for, so he may be absent for some time. Upon that event, I’d want to entrust the kingdom into someone’s hands. It could be yours, if you’re willing. We’d make a good partnership, you and I, and I’d ensure anyone who contests your rule on the premise of sex would be swiftly dealt with.”

Sabina’s eyes narrowed in thought.

“What say you, Sabina? Are you ready to take your father’s seat?”

The offer had appeal. How could it not? Who in her position wouldn’t think of herself slouched at the rex’s right hand side, lauding it all above those who once mocked and shunned her?

“Prime Levitia…” She rolled it along her tongue. It had the carnal savour of rare meat, enough to make her fangs lengthen and scrap against her lip. “It has a nice ring to it.”

“That it does.”

“And I suppose it helps that I already know your secrets.” Sabina’s lips broadened in an empty smile. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Lie to everyone all the time.” Sabina glanced towards the door. “How do you do it?”

“I never lie, Sabina,” Darius said. “I only offer a version of the truth they require to know.”

“And Laila? Don’t you think she deserves to know the truth?”

“What I think Laila deserves, more than anything, is to be happy.” Darius’s voice softened upon the mention of her. There was not even a hint of artifice in his weary downward glance, the faint tremor on Laila’s name. “After everything she’s been through, I want that for her. Burdening her with all of this… It comes at a cost. If her ignorance spares her pain, then am I truly so cruel to indulge it?”

Watching him speak stripped away one impermeable layer of his armour from Sabina. He believed what he’d uttered. Enough to make it difficult for her to remain unmoved by his plea. His most potent lies, she discovered, must be the ones first spoken to himself.

Laila clenched Darius’s cloak tight around her body as she made her way to the audience room. The oppressive length of velvet made a useful shield against the draft of the Citadel halls, its lingering scent of him comforting her.

Along her journey, she could already decipher the reservedly elegant notes of oakmoss and rose, followed by the rare expense of ambergris. The heady fragrance brought a warmth to her skin from remembrance of where she’d experienced it last—a further protective layer against the hallway’s penetrative chill.

When she reached the audience room, she slipped in silently to observe its occupants. Upon entering she noticed the slight shift in Darius’s demeanour. Though he did not look directly at her, she knew he sensed her presence all the same. She often felt it too. It was a recognition of each other that transcended anything physical.

Laila took a seat on one of the benches, watching him. She had to admit she’d never much had a liking for that dour throne, built from the skeletal remains of fallen enemies. Yet something about the way Darius took command of it enticed her. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of him—his effortlessly regal posture as he dismissed Sabina from the room.

“No further visitors,” he told Sabina before she both bowed and took her leave. Once she was gone, his eyes fell upon Laila. “Just when I was starting to wonder where I mislaid my cloak.”

“I quite like it,” Laila said, with a mischievous curl to her lips. “It’s warm.”

Darius hummed in agreement. “Suits you well. However, I shall be wanting it back.”

“Well.” Laila blushed and clutched it to her. “Not just yet. I’ll be needing it a little longer.”

Darius arched his brow. “Why?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Then let’s hear it.” He crooked two fingers to beckon her forth. “Come over here and show me.”

She got up from her seat and travelled up the few steps towards his throne before him. Her head cocked to one side, playfully coquettish. “Perhaps I’m not ready to show you.”

“Laila.” Her name was spoken with the utmost affection, but there was a hint of reproach encroaching beneath. “Take off the cloak.”

Laila bit her lip as their eyes met, a shock of energy going through her that set her nerves alight. She could tell he was growing agitated, and yet she made no move to do as he asked. However, his stare was unceasing, and the longer she held it the harder it grew.

“Take it off,” he repeated. Once. Only once, she knew, before he got up to take matters into his own hands.

She decided she’d taunted him long enough and withdrew the cloak from her shoulders, allowing it to crumple into a heap on the floor. What lay beneath was nothing but bare skin and the luminous twinkle of the betrothal carcanet he’d gifted her.

Darius stiffened immediately. A feral hunger had darkened his gaze, enlarging his pupils until they nearly eclipsed his blue irises. His larynx rolled as he swallowed and moistened his lips. “Well, I can see why you looked so pleased with yourself.”

Laila’s smile outshone even the brightest of her diamonds.

“Couldn’t wait for me, then?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was able to finish what you started quite swiftly in your absence.”

“And yet here you stand.” He seized her by the hips and tugged her to sit on his lap. “Let me look at you properly.” He brushed her hair away from her neck and sucked in a sharp breath. “You travelled all the way here like that?”

“No one saw me,” she assured him. “This is meant for your eyes only.”

“Good.” His voice had roughened to a husky rasp. “You’re exquisite.”

His heartfelt whisper sent a shiver down her spine. She leaned in to kiss him, gently coasting her mouth along his as she unbuttoned his kaftan.

Darius released a thick sound as he let her undress him, stripping off the layers of his kaftan and shirt before she unbuttoned his trousers. They parted briefly to manoeuvre the pieces of clothing off along with his drawers. Once he too was sufficiently naked, Darius dragged her back into a kiss, crushing their bodies fervently together so she could feel how stiff he was with arousal.

Laila clutched his shoulders, rolling her hips into him.

He soon put a stop to it by grabbing her and holding her firm, migrating his lips down her neck and over the tops of her breasts. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought of this.”

Laila tipped back her neck with a sigh as he lavished her with kisses. “Thought of what?”

“Taking you.” His words were muffled through his mouth’s eager smacks along her skin. “Right here on this throne.”

Her chest lurched from the thrill of it. Their shared desire. “How would you do it?”

“Like this.” He picked her up and pivoted her so her back was now pressed against him. He cupped her breast in his large hand, the other now stroking between her thighs to fondle her clit.

Laila gave a frail whimper, her head lolling as he nibbled her neck. There was a perverse sort of excitement she got from being placed on display like this, taking his lap for a throne while he pleasured her with relish. She squirmed as he made skilful work of her with his fingers and left her skin prickling and oversensitive, her breaths growing shallow.

Her half-lidded eyes swept over the expanse of the room in the realisation this would be hers someday. Theirs. To rule over side by side.

She couldn’t take much more in the way of teasing. Her thighs were already slick with want of him and she was, once more, throbbing with a deeply rooted ache that needed to be soothed. She pushed her hips back against him until she was met with his tip and hoped that would be enough to demonstrate her point.

“That’s what you came all this way for, isn’t it?” His voice took on a mocking edge. “I never knew you could be so desperate.”

“I-I’m… not…” She hated how shaky she sounded in comparison to his calmness.

“No?” He aligned his cock against her until the tip was barely inside.

She couldn’t help herself then. “Darius,” she whined. Her words were little more than short, desperate pants. “Please.”

“As you wish.”

Laila gripped the arms of the throne to brace as he entered her. She started to writhe in his lap before Darius placed a hand on her stomach to keep her still. That only added to the pressure, as the bulge from his cock struck against the weight of his palm.

“Uh uh,” he scolded. “We’re staying like this.”

“For how long?” she complained.

“As long as I want us to.”

That wouldn’t do for her, and he knew it. She refused to be obedient, flexing her muscles around him to get some of the pulsations she required.

“God,” he moaned helplessly into her shoulder. “You truly are desperate.” He bit into her shoulder, leaving a mark. “Couldn’t help yourself even for a moment.”

He knew he’d caught her when her rebellious nature sought both to refute his claim as well as defy his wishes. The only move left was to get off of him entirely, but she wouldn’t do that. Instead, she’d prove the mutuality of their passion.

“Are you saying you’re any better?” she taunted, coaxing him to action with another powerful flex.

There was a rumble deep in the back of his throat. “I think you already know what you do to me.”

“Why don’t you show me?” Laila said, once more making circular motions with her hips and drawing an anguished sound from him. “Show me what I do to you.”

Darius could no longer keep himself from pushing up into her. “Laila—”

That was all the provocation she needed to start bouncing in his lap, their hips rocking on each other in a seesawing motion. She clenched around him until he was finally spent, wilting beneath her with a shudder.

“You’re going to murder me one day.”

Laila regarded him with a smirk.

Darius caught a glance at her expression and resisted rolling his eyes. “Knew I shouldn’t have said that.”

Her smirk intensified as she swivelled to pull him into a kiss. “I love you.” Her thumb eased over his cheek. “I never thought I could feel this way. This… hopeful and excited about our future. I really think you and I could make something good here. Something great.”

“We can,” he said, hands on her thighs. “We can do anything we want.”

How far they’d come from her first refusal in the garden. Now she bore his carcanet with pride, dutiful to his kingdom and his heart.