Page 93 of A Flame of the Phoenix (An Heir Comes to Rise #6)
CHAPTER NINETY-TWO
Faythe
T hey arrived on their horses just in time to watch the sun break over the horizon and spill over the city of Ellium from atop the hills. Faythe pulled her horse to a stop, needing a moment to take in the breathtaking sight of her kingdom alive against the rays.
“Do you think we should repair the inner wall?” Faythe asked, her voice reduced from the array of emotions that swarmed her.
She was home.
Without fear or wariness or uncertainty…Faythe Ashfyre had fought to come home.
“Whatever you desire. This kingdom is yours now,” Reylan said fondly from atop his horse beside her.
“As my consort and leading general, I’d very much like your opinion.”
Reylan cast a side-smile at her. She imagined him in royal finery, with a crown atop his head, but she had to expel it since she risked her emotions spilling down her face at how wonderful it was.
“We might have won our war, but in generations to come, there will be others. I don’t view the wall as separation—it’s security. They’ve long been a statement of Rhyenelle, and High Farrow was the first to follow our example and create their singular wall to have a stronghold in the face of an attack. It served well for them in this age, something that was built long ago. So for our future generations, I would rebuild it.”
Faythe appreciated his insight. With Reylan by her side, the burden of a crown didn’t weigh so heavy. “I agree,” she said.
The red-peaked mountains shimmered under the sun’s first light, as if awakening to greet the dawn. Shadows retreated down their jagged slopes, and a piercing cry split the tranquil stillness. Faythe looked up, her breath catching.
The Firebirds from Salenhaven soared triumphantly across the peaks, their wings ablaze with every color of a living flame—crimson, gold, and searing white. The air seemed to ripple in their wake. Their cries filled the air, a song of victory; of life undimmed by time or distance. For a moment, they drifted above the mountains, turning in perfect harmony, and the sunlight transformed their feathers into a blazing display that could have outshone the sun itself.
It was a sight so achingly perfect that she clutched her chest, unable to draw a full breath. The ache was bittersweet—half-awe, half-longing. She knew they would return to Salenhaven. Their home was far beyond these mountains. And yet her heart rebelled against the inevitable. What she wouldn’t give for them to stay—for their fire to light these peaks forever.
Faythe waved back at two riders in particular. They were mere flickers of movement from this distance, but Faythe grinned wide at Liva and Samara riding together. Part of her envied their freedom for adventure as they would be flying to Salenhaven with Rhiannon and the others. But Faythe was determined to see the western continent herself someday. Maybe even farther, as she couldn’t erase the stunning concept of Embercrest, which hatched new Firebirds and trained new riders.
She was too aware of the egg in her satchel. Maybe it was selfish, but she couldn’t give it to Rhiannon to take to Embercrest, where it would await a claiming. It was a piece of Atherius she would keep close, even if it would never hatch for her.
Izaiah and Tynan caught up to them as they’d fallen behind on their horses. They could have flown to Rhyenelle from High Farrow and saved the weeks of travel, but she thought everyone was enjoying the mundane tempo of time. Embracing every moment, especially together.
“Now that’s a sight I never thought we’d see,” Izaiah marveled at the score of Firebirds.
Kyleer wasn’t with them, but he would return soon. He’d taken off when they left High Farrow, in search of Zaiana. The dark fae had even left Tynan behind without a single word of explanation or goodbye. But they all knew her reasoning. She was grieving deeply for someone none of them could show sympathy for. Faythe understood her need for solitude. Kyleer wouldn’t give up trying to reach her, however.
When they passed the outer-city wall, citizens emerged from their broken homes. Despite the wreckage, they were smiling. Children ran and people gathered on both sides of the pathway. Faythe smiled back at them, feeling their welcome, their acceptance of her.
She heard mutters of “Phoenix Queen” and whispers of her name.
After a moment, when the crowds grew thicker, reaching hands she wanted to touch, Faythe dismounted. She retrieved the egg from her satchel, wanting to share the precious gift with her people.
Faythe Ashfyre was the Phoenix Queen, and she would raise this kingdom from its ashes.
Her fingers skimmed so many, and she felt love in every spark. The walk to the castle seemed so much shorter while she lost herself in this moment, reuniting with her people and pleading her devotion to them as much as they did for her.
Faythe carried the Phoenix egg into the castle, right to the library. The glass case that had once held the large Phoenix feather of Atherius was gone, but the velvet bed for it was still there. It was Reylan who approached, bringing the new feather Atherius had left behind and placing it over the velvet. The first glimpse of restoring all that was tarnished.
She would replace the glass and add an extra measure of protection with her magick, but for now, she was content to leave it.
Dusk was falling by the time Faythe visited the Glass Garden. To her relief, most of it was intact. She’d prepared herself to find it destroyed by Malin’s bitter wrath, but the perfect blooms of the white roses shone bright like a hundred moons under the falling night.
Her fingers skimmed the soft petals. Reylan’s presence hung nearby, but he let her have a moment of reflective silence. This was her mother’s garden, and her father had preserved it for decades in her memory. Faythe looked up at the darkening sky awakening with stars, and warmth spilled over her as though they were watching her, their spirits strongest in this shared space.
“Your Majesty,” a castle guard interrupted.
Faythe turned to him, giving a nod to speak.
“I was wondering what you would like us to do with the body of Malin Ashfyre.”
She tensed at his name for just a second, but then it dissolved into…sorrow.
“He will be commemorated in the catacombs with his royal ancestors,” Faythe said.
She felt the guard’s hesitation to question her about it. Most knew what he’d done, but Faythe was certain about where to place him.
“Of course, Your Majesty.” The guard bowed and left.
Reylan approached her from behind. His arms slipped around her, and she leaned back into him. “Your heart is too golden for this world,” he murmured.
“Malin did unspeakable things. I will never forgive it and I plan to forget him in my own history. He’s been lain to rest because of Nyte. Though he didn’t get to know his half-brother, he understood his spiral into evil in a way none of us could. So in Nyte’s memory, I did it for him.”
Reylan’s lips pressed to the top of her head. “I think you made the right decision.”
Faythe turned in his arms, taken by the picturesque sight of him as he always looked mesmerizing in moonlight. It turned his hair a brilliant white and lightened his sapphire eyes to shine more brilliantly that any diamond.
She ran her hands up his chest. “You really are stuck with me now, Reylan Arrowood Ashfyre.”
His unguarded smile was a token of treasure.
“You’re really so impatient,” he mused.
Faythe was about to question what he meant, but he produced something from the inside of his jacket, and she gasped.
Reylan took her hand, slipping the cool metal around her marital finger. Faythe admired the ring: a gold band cradled a ruby diamond, simple but triumphant. “It was your mother’s. She left it behind, and Agalhor kept it all this time. He wanted me to give it to you.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “It’s perfect.”
“But I wanted you to have something that was just ours as well.”
He took her hand again, slipping a second ring onto her marital finger. Her tears spilled over this time when she saw the delicate gold butterfly. Somehow, the bottom wings fanned perfectly around the ruby diamond behind it, as if the two rings were always meant to exist as a pair. It wasn’t the same as the one she’d had before, but that was what made it even more special. It was a tribute to their past, but a hope for their future.
Faythe met his eyes with blurry vision. “You’re perfect,” she whispered.
Reylan took her face in her hands and kissed her with fierce promise. “I’m yours, Faythe Arrowood Ashfyre. Your best friend, your mate, your consort, your husband. This day…until the very end of days.”
The End.