Page 34 of A Kiss of Healing & Honor (Darkstone Academy #4)

Four months later

The scent of sea salt and blooming roses wafted through the open windows of the infirmary, a balmy summer breeze caressing my skin as I went to perform a post-surgical check on Pastry Chef Kalapania.

Her round face was still deathly pale from yesterday’s emergency appendectomy, but she was awake and alert.

“There you are, Chef Kalapania. How are you feeling today?” I asked, pulling the sheets back from her body. Thanks to a healing spell, the incision on the side of her belly was only a thin pink line. I saw no reddening or other signs of infection.

She managed a weak smile. “Much better, thanks to you and the other healers, Your Highness. Though I daresay I’m craving a strawberry tart something fierce.”

I chuckled. “I’m sure we can smuggle you in a sweet treat or two, as long as you promise to take it easy. We need our pastry chef back in fighting form.”

As I went to the linen closet and began inventorying the clean sheets, my thoughts drifted to Mama.

It had been two months since I’d last heard from her. Had she finally arrived in Hierapolis? Or was she still stuck in the capital as the imperial council wrangled over the new treaty of friendship with Kappadokia?

At least the council had approved the proposal to turn Darkstone Academy into an international academy for the magical arts. The details—and funding—were still being worked out.

I’d offered to invest, but even my newfound wealth couldn’t cover all the expenses of renovating and converting the castle from a prison to an international center for magical studies.

But on Mama’s advice, Grandmother Jacinthe had taken the first step by appointing Lady Margrave as Darkstone Academy’s new chatelaine.

“Princess Jacinthe!” Alondra burst in, her blue eyes wide with excitement, her blonde hair windswept as if she’d run all the way from the docks. “The supply ship just arrived! Come on, let’s go!”

My pulse quickened. “Are there any letters?” I tried to keep the desperate hope from my voice, but Alondra’s knowing look told me I’d failed.

“A whole crate of them! Everyone’s heading down to the cove now.” She grabbed my hand, tugging me towards the door. “Let’s go!”

I hesitated, glancing back at my patients. “I can’t just leave my shift—”

“Oh, go on, Your Highness,” Chef Kalapania urged with a warm smile. “I’ll be fine here for a bit. You deserve a break, and who knows? Maybe you’ll get that letter you’ve been waiting for.”

Torn between duty and desire, I bit my lip. But the temptation was too strong to resist. “All right,” I conceded, untying my apron. “But I’ll be back soon.”

The castle gates loomed before us, a throng of eager faces already streaming through. I slowed my pace, catching my breath as Alondra darted ahead, her blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight. As I joined the crowd, a familiar warmth enveloped me from behind.

“There’s our girl,” Boreas’ booming voice rang out, his massive arm wrapping around my waist. “Thought you’d sneak off without us, did you?”

Since returning to the island, he’d been joined by a group of other Wind-Walkers sent to train with young human knights in aerial combat techniques. Together, they formed the first-ever Dragon-Human Allied Squadron, with the Dragons providing the wings and fire, and the humans the strategic skills and military discipline that the Wind-Walkers lacked.

I leaned into his embrace, savoring the comforting heat radiating from his body. “Never,” I replied. “I was hoping you’d find me.”

Ilhan’s blue eyes twinkling with affection. “As if we could stay away.”

Gwydion simply squeezed my hand, his presence a soothing balm to my excited nerves. In addition to maintaining the castle’s apothecary garden, he was researching Fae healing spells and purifying charms to see which ones worked best on non-Fae patients.

As we made our way down the island’s single road to the cove, familiar faces greeted us at every turn. Lady Karminn waved enthusiastically, her new betrothal ring catching the sunlight. “Princess Jacinthe! Look what Fernan sent me! Are you going to visit the supply ship, too?”

I smiled, genuinely happy for her joy. “I am! And I see congratulations are in order,” I nodded towards her ring.

She blushed, twisting the pearl and diamond band. “Thank you. It still doesn’t feel quite real.”

Further along, I spotted my young friends Rheda and Elswyth, the kitchen apprentices, their arms laden with baskets. “Your Highness!” Rheda called out. “We got boxes of ginger and cinnamon this time. Chef Kalapania will be thrilled when she’s back on her feet!”

“I’m sure she will be,” I replied warmly, touched by their enthusiasm.

As we neared the beach, I caught sight of the Djinni royals—Prince Arslan and Princesses Karima and Layla—their silks and jewels shimmering in the bright sunlight.

Lady Margrave had recently offered them positions as Darkstone Academy first non-human mage-instructors, along with the Fae princesses Angharad, Branwen, and Eluned.

“Princess Jacinthe,” Prince Arslan greeted me with a formal bow. “A fine day, is it not?”

I inclined my head in return. “Indeed, it is, Prince Arslan. I hope the ship brings good tidings for all of us.”

Finally, we reached the cove, with the ship anchored in the deeper water beyond the dock. A bevy of rowboats was busily ferrying goods and people to shore.

There, waiting patiently in the crystal-clear waters, was a familiar face that made my heart swell with affection.

“Tama,” I called out.

Three mage-students stood waist-deep in the water with him as he patiently led them through a workshop in Water magic.

He raised a hand in greeting, his dark eyes fixed on me. “Jacinthe,” he replied, his voice carrying easily over the lapping waves. “I trust the tides have brought you favorable news?”

“We’ll see,” I said, a mix of hope and anxiety swirling in my chest.

The imperial council was scheduled to vote on the coming year’s imperial budget this month. The Dominion’s financial year began on the summer solstice, and before I left Neapolis Capitola, Grandmother Jacinthe had promised to add funding for Darkstone Castle’s renovation and expansion.

I walked out onto the dock and joined the line there. The ship’s captain, a grizzled man with salt-and-pepper hair and weathered skin, stood with a box of letters at his feet, distributing them to eager students and staff.

As I waited my turn, my thoughts drifted to the events of the past four months.

Thanks to my new influx of funds, I’d paid for a major renovation of the infirmary’s dormitory wing. Lady Margrave had outdone herself in organizing and managing the project, which turned the existing dormitory rooms into a series of cozy apartments to house me and my soul-bonded spouses.

The memory of our first night there flooded back. How we’d laughed at the five separate bedchambers, knowing full well that only mine would see regular use.

Based on the success of this first project, I had high hopes that Lady Margrave would be able to transform the rest of the academy into something that looked less like a prison and more like a beautiful island sanctuary for scholars and students.

“What’s on your mind, love?” Ilhan asked, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

“Just wondering if we’ll get the funding we need for our transformation project,” I replied softly.

“With the domina-regent sponsoring that particular line-item, I don’t think anyone will dare cut it from the budget,” Ilhan said.

I hoped he was right.

Then I reached the head of the line. The captain’s eyes crinkled with recognition as I approached. He bowed.

“Your Highness,” he said, his voice gruff but kind. “These are for you.”

My heart quickened as he extended two envelopes. First, I recognized immediately as Mama’s familiar handwriting. The other…

My breath caught in my throat. The heavy parchment bore the domina-regent’s official golden wax seal, the imperial eagle gleaming in the sunlight.

“Thank you, Captain,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

As I took the letters, I felt Ilhan’s comforting presence at my back. “Everything all right?”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. My fingers trembled as I broke the seal on the official letter. My mind raced with possibilities. What if it was bad news? What if—?

“Breathe, my love,” Ilhan whispered, his hand finding mine. “Even if the funding measure failed, there’s always next year.”

I unfolded the parchment, my eyes scanning the elegant script. As I read, my eyes widened, and a gasp escaped my lips.

This wasn’t what I expected. Not a word about funding. Instead…

“Jacinthe?” Ilhan’s voice was tinged with worry. “What is it? Good news or bad?”

“Good news.” I looked up, tears of joy brimming in my eyes. “It’s an imperial proclamation,” I said, my voice growing stronger with each word. “My grandmother has repealed the Supernatural Relations Act!”

A hush fell over the crowd gathered to meet the ship, followed by an eruption of cheers and applause. My friends and lovers pressed closer, their faces alight with joy and disbelief.

“Read it aloud, Princess Jacinthe!” someone called from the back.

Taking a deep breath, I raised my voice.

Whereas it has come to Our royal notice that certain statutes heretofore enacted, known collectively as the Supernatural Relations Act, have long stood as a barrier to the peace and unity of Our realms, fostering discord among Our beloved subjects rather than the accord so devoutly to be wished;

And whereas We, in Our capacity as domina-regent and under the advisement of Our most trusted counselors, have been led to reconsider the said statutes in light of their manifold inequities and the grievous hardships imposed thereby upon a considerable number of Our loyal subjects;

And whereas it behooves Us to ensure the felicity and well-being of all who dwell within Our dominions, regardless of their birth, nature, or the mystical endowments bestowed upon them by Providence;

Now, therefore, We do hereby declare and proclaim that the Supernatural Relations Act is repealed, forthwith and forever. Let it be known that henceforth, all measures and articles of law that have heretofore governed the interactions and affairs of our natural and supernatural subjects under the aegis of the aforementioned Act are null and void.

Let this Act of repeal serve as a testament to Our commitment to justice and equity, executed at Our royal hand and seal this day, to be enshrined in the annals of Our reign as a signal of Our benevolence and of Our firm resolve to foster an era of renewed harmony and prosperity throughout Our realms.

Given under Our hand at the Palace of Neapolis Capitola, on the third day after the feast of the Seven Sacred Disciples, in the sixth year of Our regency.

When I finished, the beach erupted in jubilant celebration.

Tama and his students let out triumphant whoops from the water.

I found myself enveloped in Ilhan’s arms, relief and joy flowing through our soul bond. I felt a surge of love and gratitude toward my grandmother for giving the kind of family we’d forged together a chance to thrive in the larger world outside the island.

“This changes everything,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

I tucked Mama’s letter into my pocket, promising myself I’d read it later, when I had some privacy. The air buzzed with excitement, and I couldn’t help but be swept up in it.

“Did you hear?” Alondra asked. “There’s a party tonight!”

Her enthusiasm was infectious. “A party? Just like that?”

“Why not?” She grinned. “It’s not every day we get to celebrate the repeal of a bad law!”

As I parted from Ilhan and the others to return to the infirmary, I saw people already springing into action. Lady Margrave was organizing a group of students to gather supplies from the kitchens. Her round face was alight with a maternal warmth.

I checked on my patient, then sat and opened Mama’s letter.

My Dearest Jacinthe,

I trust this letter finds you in the full bloom of health and happiness, as radiant as when last we parted in Neapolis Capitola. I write to you from the splendid caves of Hierapolis, where I have been most warmly received as the newly appointed Imperial Ambassador to the Dragon Kingdom. The air here is filled with an electric sense of purpose and the majestic sight of our hosts never ceases to inspire awe.

It delights my heart to inform you I have settled wonderfully into my new role. The Dragons, as majestic and imposing as they are in stature, prove equally grand in their generosity and spirit. King Menelaus, in particular, has gone to great lengths to make his long-lost mate feel welcomed—a task at which he succeeds admirably, though not without a certain charming clumsiness.

An amusing incident springs to mind, which I must share. In his eagerness to cater to my human sensibilities, the king commissioned what he believed to be a traditional human feast. Imagine my surprise—and the concealed mirth of his court—when presented with a gargantuan platter bearing a single, enormous boulder-melon, imported especially from Espola. This fruit, in flavor resembling a rock-melon but of a size fit for a Dragon, proved somewhat impractical for my solitary consumption! It was a thoughtful gesture, albeit a slightly misjudged one, yet it only endeared my darling Menelaus more to my heart by highlighting his earnest efforts.

I find myself thinking of you often, my dearest girl, and I am eager to hear of your adventures and achievements at Darkstone Academy. Menelaus and I are planning to visit you before the autumn storms blow in.

Please extend my heartfelt greetings to Lord Ilhan, Boreas, Prince Gwydion, and Lord Tama. I trust they continue to be your bulwark and joy, as they so clearly were when we were all last together.

With all my love and the fervent wish to see you soon,

Your Mama

I chuckled at Mama’s melon misadventure, then read the letter again before tucking it away.

The sound of laughter and the first strains of music drifted in through the infirmary windows. My shift would be over soon, and then I’d go join the celebration.

***

After sunset, the courtyard outside the Great Hall transformed into a wonderland of celebration. Colored mage-lights floated above us, casting a soft, ethereal glow. Drum, fiddle and flute played lively dance tunes that set my feet to tapping.

I stood for a moment, taking it all in. The laughter, the music, the sheer joy radiating from everyone around me. It was a far cry from the tense, fearful atmosphere that had permeated the academy when I first arrived.

Gwydion wound his way through the crowd to meet me, his pale green hair shimmering in the mage-light.

“May I have this dance, Your Highness?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

I laughed, allowing him to lead me into the center of the courtyard. “As if you need to ask, my love.”

We joined the swirling mass of dancers, our feet moving in time with the lively tune. The traditional dance was one I’d learned in childhood, its steps now as familiar to me as breathing.

As the music dictated, I spun away from Gwydion, clapping in time with the other dancers before being swept into Ilhan’s strong arms.

“Having fun?” he murmured.

“Yes,” I replied, breathless from the dance and the sheer elation coursing through me.

The dance continued, and I found myself passed from partner to partner. Tama’s cool, webbed hands. Boreas’ firm, hot grip. Alondra and Karminn laughing as we twirled past each other while switching partners.

Even Antoni Guisbald took a turn dancing with Mage Bevitrice, his usual stern demeanor softened by the festivities.

As I danced with my friends, my heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of contentment.

I thought of my work in the infirmary, the challenges of my magical studies, and the love I shared with my four spouses. It was more than I’d ever dreamed possible for a village healer’s daughter from humble Bernswick.

The music reached its crescendo, and I found myself back in Gwydion’s arms as the dance ended. Flushed and laughing, I leaned against him, catching my breath.

“Attention, everyone!” Lady Margrave’s voice rang out, cutting through the chatter. The chatelaine stood on the steps of the Great Hall, her silver hair gleaming in the light of the floating mage-lights. Beside her, Castellan Guisbald raised his goblet.

“A toast,” he announced, his voice carrying the authority of his military background. “To Her Imperial Highness, Domina-Regent Jacinthe, and to a bright future for the human Dominion!”

A chorus of agreement rippled through the hall as glasses clinked together.

“To peace and prosperity!” Lady Margrave added, her warm eyes twinkling. “And the rebirth of Darkstone Academy as a jewel of higher education.”

As the crowd echoed the sentiment, I felt arms encircle me. Gwydion to my left, Ilhan to my right, with Tama and Boreas completing our circle. We stood there, our arms intertwined, a physical manifestation of the bond we shared.

“To us,” Boreas murmured, his breath warm against my ear.

I leaned into their embrace, overwhelmed by a wave of gratitude. “I never thought I could be this happy,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. “After everything we’ve been through…”

“We’ve earned this,” Ilhan said firmly, his hand tightening on my waist.

I nodded, letting my gaze drift across the courtyard filled with happy people.

“And whatever comes next,” I said, “we’ll face it together.”

***

Thank you so much for reading and sharing Jacinthe’s adventures at Darkstone Academy for the Magical Arts!