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EPILOGUE: ROSALYN

TWO MONTHS LATER…

T he mirror reflected a bride I hardly recognized.

My wedding gown was a masterpiece of magical craftsmanship with layers of frost-white silk that shimmered with crystalline-like enchantments, catching the light like freshly fallen snow.

Silver embroidery traced intricate patterns across the bodice, echoing the royal runes of Frostfjord while incorporating delicate flowers, butterflies, and other pixie symbolism.

The long, flowing sleeves were edged with crystalized moon blossoms that would never wilt, and the train behind me seemed to float like morning mist.

Most remarkable was the special design that accommodated my wings, framing them with delicate silver filigree that enhanced rather than concealed their natural beauty.

Merry sat regally on a velvet cushion nearby, his golden horn polished to a brilliant shine for the occasion.

The caticorn had surprised everyone by adapting remarkably well to the journey through Kellen’s hollow trees, magical passageways which allowed one to take far journeys without ever stepping on a boat.

Merry emerged from the portal with a smug expression that said, “Of course I handled it perfectly. I’m Merry.” Now, he wore a tiny silver collar adorned with miniature frost crystals that matched my gown, looking every bit the noble companion.

“You look absolutely enchanting,” my mother, Rin, said, her voice soft as she adjusted my elaborate headdress, a pixie-style crown of blue ice roses and crystallized moon blossoms that Winifred had crafted for the occasion.

“Thank you, Mother,” I replied, still surprised she had made the journey.

When she’d initially hesitated, claiming the winter travel would be hard on her health, I’d resigned myself to her absence.

When she arrived with the last group from Moonshine Hollow, transported through Kellen’s hollow tree network, I felt surprisingly relieved.

“I wouldn’t have missed this for anything,” she’d told me, embracing me.

“Even though I needed a few special elixirs for the ride through the trees,” she said with a tinkling laugh.

“My daughter is marrying a prince. I have to be here. But prince or not, as long as you are happy, Rosalyn, that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

She tilted her head, eyeing my makeup once more.

“More glitter,” she said, opening her makeup case and applying more glitter to the corners of my eyes.

”

“Kellen deserves a medal for getting everyone here safely,” Primrose remarked, straightening the folds of her ice-blue bridesmaid dress.

“Those hollow tree passages are not for the faint of heart.”

“It was quite the experience,” my mother agreed.

“Like being wrapped in living bark and whisked through the earth itself. Efficient, if unsettling.”

“I’m so grateful to him,” I said.

From across the room, Zarina, my kitchen witch apprentice, approached.

Her dark eyes shimmered with both excitement and slight awe at the grandeur of everything.

“You look beautiful, Rosalyn. Please enjoy your time here, and don’t worry about anything at home. I’ll see to The Sconery.”

I gave her arm an affectionate squeeze.

“I know it’s in good hands with you.”

“Speaking of home,” Juniper interjected, adjusting her gown, “I’ll need to head back shortly after the festivities. Granik’s new crop is showing unusual magical properties, and he’s completely baffled.” A soft smile played across her lips as she mentioned the orc farmer.

“You know how he gets when his plants do unexpected things.”

I raised an eyebrow, noting the gentle blush that colored Juniper’s cheeks at the mention of Granik.

“Best get back soon, then. He’ll be lost without your expertise,” I commented, exchanging a knowing glance with Primrose, who also noticed Juniper’s rosy cheeks.

Primrose winked at me.

“Oh, he’s quite capable,” Juniper replied, her blush deepening.

“He just…appreciates my perspective.”

“I’m sure he does,” Winifred muttered from where she was smoothing the train of my dress, a knowing tone in her voice.

Primrose cleared her throat.

Changing the subject, she said, “I hope you and Bjorn will return for the library’s birthday celebration.”

“We wouldn’t miss it,” I assured her.

“I know it will be great.”

“Good.” Primrose nodded, then added under her breath, “If I can pull it off, that is.”

“Is there a problem with the celebration planning?” I asked.

“What? Oh, no,” Primrose said quickly—too quickly.

“Just the usual planning challenges. Nothing for you to worry about on your wedding day.”

Emmalyn peeked in before I could press further, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

“It’s time,” she announced.

“Everyone’s assembled in the great hall.”

My heart skipped a beat.

This was the moment Bjorn and I would officially join our lives together.

With Emmalyn, Primrose, Juniper, Zarina, and Winifred, who was carrying Merry, accompanying me, we made our way to the great hall.

My friends were dressed in beautiful gowns of various shades of Frostfjord blue and held bouquets of blue roses.

My mother took my arm, guiding me.

“I am so proud of you, Rosalyn. I know we had a difference of opinion when you left Spring Haven, but you are an exceptional woman.”

“Thank you, Mother,” I whispered, kissing her cheek.

“Your lipstick,” my mother chided.

“It's enchanted. No smearing.”

My mother laughed.

Following an attendant, we made our way to the doors of the great hall.

On the other side, a horn sounded, and a harp announced the beginning of the ceremony with a triumphant glissando.

The huge wooden doors opened, revealing the crowd inside.

The massive pillars had been decorated in garlands of blue roses and greens. Overhead, chandeliers burned brightly. The hall’s ceiling had been enchanted to look like the northern lights, ripples of purple and blue waving before a starry background. Snow fell softly, creating a pleasing ambiance but never reaching the assembly. A crowd of well-dressed northerners watched as we entered. Along with them were Tansy and Kellen and Elder Thornberry and Lady Petunia—whose nose was red from the cold.

The hall’s beauty was nothing compared to the man waiting for me.

With his parents and siblings in attendance, Bjorn stepped forward, waiting for me. He stood tall and proud in the traditional formal wear of Frostfjord royalty: a deep blue tunic embroidered with silver runes, a short cloak lined with silk, and his royal silver torc gleaming at his throat. His hair had been pulled up in a bun, revealing his face’s strong lines. Smoke sat faithfully at his side, the firewolf wearing a silver collar that complemented Bjorn’s attire, his ember-flecked fur groomed to a lustrous shine. But it was Bjorn’s expression that caught my heart. A look of absolute wonder and love was painted on his face as he watched me approach.

Behind him stood his family, including the king and queen and all Bjorn’s siblings. Bjorn had been right. It had taken little effort to win over Queen Maren. The gracious queen had greeted me warmly, impressed that someone had finally won Bjorn’s heart.

“Shall we?” my mother whispered.

I nodded.

Fluttering our wings, we made our way to the front of the hall, flying up to the dais rather than walking up the stairs.

When we met Bjorn, my mother set my hand in his.

Bjorn leaned forward, kissing Rin on her cheek, and then my mother stepped aside with my friends.

“You look so beautiful,” Bjorn whispered, “like the Lady of Spring herself.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I replied with a wink. “And you definitely need to fix your hair like that more often.”

Bjorn chuckled.

With that, we turned our attention to the officiants.

The ceremony itself was a blend of traditions, with Rune elf formality and touches of pixie custom woven throughout. We exchanged vows, bound our hands with a silver cord embedded with northern and southern magic, and shared the traditional blessing cup of wine.

“Prince Bjorn, what gift do you offer your bride as a token of your love?” the officiant asked.

“An arm ring forged here in the Frozen Isles,” Bjorn said, slipping the ringlet of silver up my arm to my bicep. “It is made from the first neck torc I was granted as a boy. May it symbolize my lifelong love.”

“Rosalyn, what gift do you offer your husband as a token of your love?”

I grinned at Bjorn, then pulled a small, folded piece of paper from my sleeve. “I considered giving you a ring or an amulet, but nothing felt quite right. I wanted to give you something that showed my undying trust.” I grinned. “So, I gift this to you, Bjorn, the recipe for my rose-and-strawberry scones, an award-winning and absolutely secret recipe known only to me… and now to you. You are the only man I have ever dreamed of sharing my life with, and to prove it, I give you my most coveted secret.”

At that, the crowd laughed.

Bjorn chuckled. “Your secrets and scones are safe with me.”

I smiled warmly at him.

“Prince Bjorn of Frostfjord,” the officiant called, “and Rosalyn Hartwood of Moonshine Hollow, hailing from the pixie lands of Spring Haven, I confirm that your tokens have been exchanged and your vows completed. Therefore, before this good audience, I am pleased to pronounce you husband and wife! Kiss the one you love, and let us all revel in your joy.”

With that, Bjorn leaned forward and set a passionate kiss on my lips.

The crowd erupted in cheers, sparks flying all around the room from the traditional pixie wands my mother had brought from Spring Haven. Colorful, magical confetti popped alongside golden sparks, lighting the great hall with color and light.

The musicians began to play, and the whole room broke out in smiles and excited cheers.

King Ramr and Queen Maren stepped forward to congratulate us.

“Well done,” Queen Maren said as she embraced me, her formal facade softening slightly. “Welcome to the family, Rosalyn.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I replied, still a bit nervous around my new mother-in-law despite her kindness.

“Maren, please,” she corrected gently. “We are family now.”

King Ramr, overcome with joy, pulled my tiny mother into an embrace. “Oh, aye. A pixie in our family now! Welcome, dear lady! Welcome.”

“Oh!” my mother exclaimed in surprise. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”

When he finally let her go, he turned to me, enfolding me in a bear hug that lifted me off the ground. “About time that boy found someone with spirit,” he declared, his voice booming in the hall. “You’ll bring some much-needed warmth to Frostfjord, my dear.”

“Thank you, King Ramr.”

Moments later, the great hall transformed. Servants quickly rearranged the space, using magic to bring in tables and heaps of food. Ice sculptures melted into colorful drinks while musicians played jaunty melodies.

The following celebration was joyful and loud, with all the local people joining the festivities.

I found myself drawn into conversation with Asa, who was holding her pearl-white caticorn kitten.

“Rosalyn,” she said, “thank you again for sending me the kitten. I’m so grateful. He’s so cute.”

I scratched the kitten on the head. “And a fair bit friendlier than Merry,” I said with a laugh. “I’m glad you like him.”

Bjorn joined us. “Promise kept,” he told his sister with a grin, petting the kitten.

“It was the least you could do since I aided and abetted your escape.”

Bjorn chuckled then turned to me. “Speaking of, come with me,” he said, taking my hand. “I want to show you something.”

“You do know everyone wants to talk to you, right?” Asa needled her brother.

“Why do you think we’re leaving?”

“Coward.”

Chuckling, Bjorn pulled me away.

I waved goodbye to Asa and followed Bjorn as he led me away from the great hall, through a series of corridors, and up a winding staircase. We emerged onto a secluded balcony high on the palace’s northern face, overlooking the frozen expanse of the village, port, and sea.

The view was breathtaking. The full moon cast a silvery glow over the ice-covered landscape, making it sparkle like a field of diamonds. In the distance, icebergs drifted slowly in the current, their shapes fantastical in the moonlight.

But what truly took my breath away was the sky above. From here, we could see the real northern lights. Ribbons of green, blue, and purple danced across the stars, shifting and swirling in patterns too beautiful to describe.

“The northern lights,” Bjorn explained, standing behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist.

“They’re magnificent,” I breathed, unable to take my eyes off the spectacle. I leaned against him, savoring his warmth in the cold night air. After a moment, I carefully unfurled my wings, allowing them to catch the aurora’s light. The magical dust that naturally shed from them shimmered in response to the northern lights, creating a miniature version of the celestial display around us.

“Beautiful, just like you,” Bjorn whispered. “My wife…”

“My husband.” I turned in his arms to face him, reaching up to trace one of the runes on his collarbone. It began to glow at my touch, the blue light spreading to the others until they formed a pattern of luminescence across his skin.

Bjorn leaned down to kiss me. The kiss was gentle at first, then deeper as he pulled me closer. When we finally broke apart, both a little breathless, I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

“Are you happy?” he asked, his voice soft.

I thought about everything that had brought us to this moment—the serendipity of his arrival in Moonshine Hollow, our connection over the unicorns, the magical working that had brought us closer, the misunderstandings and revelations, all the baking, and finally, the choice we’d both made to build a life together.

“More than I ever thought possible,” I told him honestly.

Above us, the northern lights continued their dance.

As we stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms with the beauty of Frostfjord spread before us and the promise of a life in Moonshine Hollow waiting for our return, I knew with absolute certainty that whatever adventures lay ahead, we would face them together. The baker and the prince, finding our own happily ever after.