Page 29 of The Rivaled Crown (The Veiled Kingdom #3)
EPILOGUE
DACRE
T he kingdom had begun to heal.
Marmoris was no longer the fractured, broken land it had been under the king’s rule. Flowers bloomed where there had once been only ash. Children laughed in the streets, their voices carrying through the air like birdsong. The weight of oppression that had once smothered this place had started to lift, and yet, even as the palace thrived, Verena had refused her coronation for weeks.
She had given herself to rebuilding first.
I had watched her spend long nights among our people. She would kneel in the dirt alongside farmers, Wren with her, their fingers deep in the soil as they tested its fertility and sowed the seeds of new crops. With blacksmiths and weavers, she stood shoulder to shoulder, the rhythmic clink of metal and the soft whisper of threads weaving tales of our kingdom and of Veyrith, dispelling shadows of fear that had once loomed over them because of her father’s legacy.
She did not sit upon the throne as her predecessor had before; instead, she worked side by side with them to rebuild.
And her people, our people, had come to love her for it.
It was only after she had seen the magic return to the land, seen the tithe restructured by the hands of her and my grandmother in a way that let the kingdom flourish, that she had finally agreed to take the throne.
But it wasn’t just Marmoris that was changing.
Across the sea, Veyrith had begun to stir.
I had heard the whispers from Micah’s letters, his careful words painting a picture of a land long thought to be lost. The ruins had begun to breathe again, its once barren rivers filling, its magic uncoiling from centuries of slumber. Just as Marmoris was finding its balance, so too was the kingdom my mate’s mother had once called home.
And today, Verena stood before her kingdom as the queen of them both.
I stood just beyond the curved balcony doors, watching her with awe.
The wind carried the scent of the sea, lifting the delicate silks of her gown. Deep sapphire blue, the color of a Marmoris sky before a storm. It was the first time I had seen her wear something that was truly befitting of a queen.
Her mother’s dress.
A crown now rested upon her head, delicately woven gold twisted in intricate patterns, the centerpiece a single dark sapphire that captured the fading light of the sun with a mesmerizing gleam. Her hair was pulled back out of her face, long curls cascading over her bare shoulders, and the gown’s intricate embroidery sweeping across her collarbones like trailing ivy.
She was breathtaking.
And she was mine.
I stepped toward her, unable to restrain myself any longer, drawn to her like the tides to the moon. My fingers brushed against her lower back, and I felt the slow, steady rise and fall of her breath beneath my palm.
"You were staring," she murmured, her voice laced with quiet amusement.
"I will never stop staring at you."
A soft exhale left her lips, a gentle whisper in the quiet air, and she finally turned to face me. The sunlight poured over her like liquid gold, casting warm, golden hues across her face and illuminating her features with a delicate glow. Her deep blue eyes shimmered like a forest at twilight, rich and full of burdens.
She was still carrying so much weight, the invisible duty pressing down on her shoulders: the strains of her new role, heavy with responsibility, and the hardship of caring so deeply for the people she felt she had previously failed.
"I was never meant for this," she whispered, her doubts filling her words as if they were secrets she could no longer hold. "I was never meant to be queen."
"That’s a lie." I brushed my fingers along her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my touch. With gentle insistence, I tilted her chin upward until her eyes, deep and tumultuous like a stormy sea, locked with mine. "You were meant to be exactly this. You are the future our mothers fought for, the one they sacrificed everything for."
She swallowed hard, her throat moving beneath my fingertips like a fragile, delicate bird caught in a moment of vulnerability when it had forgotten how to use its wings. "And if I fail them?"
"You won’t." My voice was as firm as tempered steel, unwavering and resolute. "You have already given them more than your father ever did. You are rebuilding a kingdom, not from power, but from love. They follow you because they believe in you. I believe in you."
Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to argue, but no words came forth.
Instead, she leaned forward on her tiptoes and kissed me.
It was slow, lingering, filled with an ache that I could feel in my bones.
I groaned softly against her lips, my hands gliding around the curve of her waist, drawing her closer until there was not even a whisper of space between us. Her body melded into mine with an effortless grace, as if she had always been destined to be there, as if there had never existed a world where we didn’t fit together so perfectly.
"Verena," I murmured against her mouth, my grip tightening as heat coursed through me. "I am bewitched by you.”
Her fingers curled against my chest, my shirt crumbling in her hold.
“And I you,” she murmured breathlessly.
I shook my head because she didn’t understand. She would never grasp the power she held, the hold she had over me that had nothing to do with the crown that sat upon her head.
I peppered gentle kisses along the curve of her neck, savoring the taste of her skin, lavishing in the feel of her beneath my tongue. I let my lips wander lower, tracing a path to the soft valley between her breasts, feeling her shiver against me.
Slowly, I descended farther, lowering myself to my knees before her.
She hesitated, her fingers curling and slipping into my hair "Dacre, I…"
"Please," I cut her off, pressing my forehead to her trembling stomach. "Let me remind you that you are more than this crown. More than what they expect you to be. That you are still mine."
She closed her eyes, a gentle sigh escaping her lips as she allowed the tenderness of the moment to wash over her. Her fingers delicately trailed over the back of my neck, the touch as soft as a feather, sending shivers down my spine.
“The kingdom is right behind me,” she whispered, her voice trailing off with a laugh. “They cannot see their queen like this.”
I grinned as I looked past her, my hands settling firmly on her hips. “No one will see us as long as you’re quiet.”
Her gaze flicked behind her to the view of the city below us, and I let my hands fall down her body, beneath the soft hem of her dress.
"Tell me you’re mine," I whispered as I eased her dress upward, allowing my fingertips to glide over the smooth, warm skin of her knees.
Her breath caught, a subtle hitch that rippled through me. She turned her gaze back to me, her eyes locking on to mine. “You know that I’m yours.”
I cocked my head slightly just as her supple thighs came into view. “And do you know that?”
She laughed softly, but her body was coiled with tension as she widened her thighs just the slightest bit. “You’re very demanding. Has anyone ever told you that?”
I smiled as I leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her inner thigh. “They have. I think it might have been you now that I think of it.”
“And what if I said I didn’t like it?” she practically purred, a soft challenge that lingered in the air.
I slowly lifted her dress higher, the silky fabric sliding upward until it gathered in delicate folds against her hips.
I glided my thumb over the lace of her underwear, tracing the intricate line of her pussy as she squirmed beneath my touch, her breaths quickening.
“Then I would tell you that you’re a liar.” I looked up at her, at how beautiful she looked above me.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to speak to your queen that way.” She grinned, a fucking traitorous little grin, and I knew that I was going to devour her. “I could call for my guards right now and have you carried away.”
I pressed my thumb hard against her clit through her underwear, and her hips surged forward, betraying her. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wouldn’t I?” she asked so breathlessly.
I smirked, dragging my thumb in slow, lazy circles over the lace covering her, feeling her body tremble beneath my hands. Her breath hitched, her fingers tightening in my hair. “Dacre…”
I pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh, right at the edge of where she wanted me most, deliberately slow, savoring the way she shivered beneath me. “I should have known,” I murmured, my lips brushing against her skin, “that even as my queen, you would still be a little traitor.”