Page 31 of This Midsummer Heart (Seasons of Legend #4)

Chapter thirty

Reunited

Auberon

“T

itaine.”

I wake with her name on my lips, bolting upright in bed. My head pounds, my body aching from spending so long in bed. I’ve barely been awake long enough to take a sip of water for the past three days. And now—now that I’ve reclaimed my voice—there is no one here to ask.

I reach for the glass of water at my bedside, drinking until my throat grows tight from the cold. Then, slowly, I lower my legs to the floor and begin the arduous task of standing.

It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. Oddly enough, after days in bed, I feel, well—strong.

The jumble of magic flexing beneath my skin must be the reason. Shivering, I let my bare feet guide me out into the hall.

A bevy of people are in front of me at once, blocking the way. But they aren’t fae. These are elves.

“Your Royal Majesty!” they cry, some of them just exclaiming, “King Auberon!”

Every last one of them are dark elves. Not a single one are my people—my former people—from the House of Elves. Yet I recognize them all from my past.

“I fought with you at Trident Wood,” I say, recognizing one of my old lieutenants from the war to unite the dark elves and wood elves. “Karsten!”

“You remember me.” The man’s face splits into a grin.

He gestures to the young men and women beside him, and the pretty elf who looks to be about his age.

“This is my wife and my children, and the children of my brother Eldrec. I brought everyone to see you, but the fae here wouldn’t let us into your room. ”

At the end of the hall, a mix of the tall fae—so like the dark fae of the north—and fae of the woodlands, mountains and meadows, shake their heads in disapproval or push on with their tasks.

I reach out, clapping Karsten on the shoulder fondly, only to find another familiar face.

“Leonora,” I breathe. “I haven’t seen you since—”

“Since we were children.” She laughs, pulling another dark elf closer.

A pair of large-eyed boys, almost identical in height, stare up at me from her sides.

“King Auberon was a playmate of mine, and a fellow miscreant terrorizing the deep forests of Glowarian, before Gran and Gramps moved us south.”

I grasp her hand, shaking it firmly. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Nor the next person to greet me.

“Captain Sindarn,” I exclaim, embracing the graying elf. It was he who taught me to visualize the arrow that flies forever.

“My prized pupil,” he replies. “Look at you now!”

Everywhere around me are pieces of the life I thought I’d left behind up north. Each of them, I lost track of at some point after I became Houselord of the Elves. “What are you all doing here?”

“We’ve come to see you, silly,” Leonora says, very much sounding like she wanted to call me something other than silly. “And to follow you once more.”

“You were always our liege, of course,” Captain Sindarn says, clearing his throat. “Even on a separate continent.”

“A fortnight ago, we heard you were coming to Nox to establish a new house of the dark elves,” Karsten explains. “We mean to join you.”

“I hope it’s to be a proper royal house this time,” Leonora adds. “No, it must be. I’ll talk you into it if it isn’t.”

I gape at them. “But how—who told you I was coming?”

“It’s common knowledge across Nox,” Captain Sindarn answers, beaming with pride.

“Imagine how good it was to hear the news, that King Auberon was traveling south, with no retinue to aid him, of his own might, to reclaim his place as king. Your father would’ve been so proud, may he walk peacefully in the Ever Lands! ”

I manage one stilted breath before the truth dawns on me. Robin the puk. You’ve been spreading rumors about me, haven’t you? Rumors designed to keep me from wringing your neck when I get to Nox.

I’m so close now, I’m not sure my anger will cool in time to save him. Distilling gossip across the watering holes of Nox so I can save face is the least he can do.

But then I realize: I don’t need any of that. I have the Blade of Hedril at full magic. I have a body filled with royal chaos magic—the first elven king to say that in generations.

And I have Titaine.

“I didn’t travel alone,” I correct them. “I had my bride with me.”

Silence falls over the gathered dark elves. Then Leonora barks a laugh. “You always had a thing for fae women, didn’t you?”

The others regard her with widened eyes, as if she’s just spoken sacrilege.

“No,” I correct her. “Really just the one fae woman.”

“Course you did. You were always fascinated by them. I wasn’t surprised at all when you married one—especially that fae in particular!”

Furrowing my brow, I ask her, “What does that mean?”

“Don’t you remember? We were probably eight or so.

That retinue of fae led by the fae lady of the sun came through Glowarian Forest to negotiate with your father.

There was this little golden fae with them, always with her nose in a book.

I don’t think she even noticed any of us were there.

I thought it was silly for anyone to take that many books on a journey, but you couldn’t stop gawking at her. ”

My eyes widen. “No. No, that couldn’t be.”

“It was and is. Titaine, daughter of the lady of the sun. Who else could it be, silly?”

Again, she very much sounds like she wants to call me something other than silly. And she’d be perfectly right to.

“Excuse me. I need to see to my bride.”

“We’ll wait here,” Karsten says, only to cringe as a small fae lady appears behind him, fluttering her wings as she frowns at him before dropping a disdainful, “ excuse me.

”

“We’ll wait in the courtyard,” Karsten amends.

I offer them a hasty nod before stopping the fierce little fae. “The fae lady I brought here—”

“Over there,” she says, pointing with her chin over the stack of fresh bed linens in her arms. “She’s been asking for you.”

I need no further invitation. The fae woman growls at me as I sprint down the hall, throwing open the door to Titaine’s room and completely forgetting to knock.

Titaine is sitting on her bed, legs folded beneath her, dressed in a red linen shift that reminds me so much of the dress she wore that night in the fire swamp, my breath catches in my throat.

She’s lifting a shard of crystal, her brow furrowed in concentration as she holds it in the light streaming through her window.

When notices sees me, the line between her brows vanishes. Her face transforms from a worried grimace to relief and something I dared not hope I’d ever see again.

I can’t help myself. A foolish half grin slips over my face as I lean casually against the doorframe. “You still love me,” I say, drawing out the words.

My chest warms just saying it. All of me grows warmer, the trials of the past few weeks—the past five years

all but forgotten.

Titaine twists her mouth, but I can tell her heart isn’t in the rebuke. “Who says I still love you? Maybe I love you a second time.”

“You’re right.” My grin widens. “What’s past is now gone. I’ve loved and chosen you every time I’ve met you. There’s nothing left now but to make up for lost time, and to build a proper future together.”

Her expression softens, regarding me with that love that first greeted me when I entered the room—that expression I remember from our good days together, only it is so much deeper now.

We have walked through the fires of our trials and our own bitterness and flaws.

And now here we stand. Born anew. My heart flutters like I’m just a boy again, hoping to be loved for the first time.

“There are a few things left,” Titaine says, her voice soft and inviting.

I lift a brow. “Such as?”

“Kiss me.”

I cross the distance between us in two strides, taking her face in my hands. My fingers curl beneath her chin, lifting it, just as her hand twines into the fabric of my shirt, my mail clinking softly behind her nails.

Slowly, committing every moment of this to memory, I lean down and press my lips to hers.

It isn’t a soft, gentle kiss of new love. But it is a claiming kiss—an acknowledging one.

She is mine.

I am hers.

And nothing else—no titles, no words, no betrayals or heartbreaks or joys of the past—matters one wit. There is only now.

When at last I come up for air, I understand this warmth in my chest is not just of love renewed.

It is the happiness of knowing that my years of torture have ended, and I am finally back where I belong. Forgiven, and at the side of the woman I love.

“Say it,” I whisper to Titaine, still lingering close to her mouth.

She pants slightly, still catching her breath. “I love you. I should’ve said it before. I should’ve done it before. I was so foolish and afraid—”

I catch her lips in a passionate kiss once again, withdrawing more quickly this time.

“Are you still afraid?”

“No,” she says, then flinches. “Maybe a little.”

“It’s alright.” I stroke her hair, then move my hand to cup her cheek as I sit beside her on the bed. “I’ll do a much better job of protecting your heart this time.”

“You’d better.” She twists her hand deeper into my shirt, drawing me nearer. “I’m counting on you.”

The vulnerability in her voice almost breaks me. “Titaine, are you—”

She shakes her head. “My magic is gone.”

“Of course it’s not gone.” I pull her close, threading my hand behind her wing until it can cradle the back of her head.

“Don’t you remember? You saved us on the Bridge of Miracles.

You gave me everything you had.” A soft laugh escapes between my lips.

“The least I can do is return the favor. Until your magic returns, you have mine at your disposal. I am your servant. You are my queen.”

“Queen Titaine.” She breaths a laugh. “I always found the sound of that strange.”

“Get used to it, my dear. It’s who you are.” And I will do my best to grow used to being a proper king, so I don’t let you down, or any of those dark elves waiting for me downstairs.

It’s not a mistake I can let myself make twice.

I loosen my arms around her back and wings, letting her leave this embrace. But she doesn’t. She stays where she is, folded into my chest, and it is the best feeling in the world.

My Titaine.

And despite all my flaws, despite all our bumbling and the tragic rubble we made of our love the first time, she really is mine again. I press a kiss to the top of her head.

“ Now

all that’s left is to make amends,“ I say, speaking into her silken hair.

“Actually, there’s still one other thing.”

“Oh?”

I sit and listen, to her plans for when we get to the City of Nox and for the House she wants to build with me. When I try to protest, she shakes her head, telling me she is no longer fit to be Houselord of the Fetes.

“Not without my magic.”

“You are so much more than your magic, Titaine.”

Still, she shakes her head. “No, it cannot be. Nor will I sit and rule over an empty House while my people wait for relief in Avalonne. We still have much work to do, you and I, to get our people to safety. And I want to start over with something I really excel at: studying magic. I’m going to find a way to get the runeboats working again. ”

I continue to listen to her plans, her theories, offering input from time to time. Not that she really needs it. Titaine has always been brilliant when it came to the technicalities of magic. Now that all that acrimony is behind me, I’m free to admit it again.

Just as I can admit this:

I am the luckiest elf alive. And I am exactly

where I am meant to be—even if I am not in Nox quite yet.

When Titaine yawns for a third time, I encourage her to get into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. I promise to return so we can eat supper together.

I close the door softly, my heart full as I make my way down the hall and out to the courtyard of La Casa Encantadora after a few wrong turns.

My old friends are there waiting for me, their families resting in the broad shade of a tree.

Though we are on the cusp of the winter season this far south, it still feels like summer.

Even the misty Torreado Mountains are a mix of blue and brown on the horizon, the range stretching all the way to the City of Nox and beyond.

Some day soon, when Titaine is fully recovered, we’ll follow its peaks to our new home.

For now, the sun is hot on my skin as I rejoin the dark elves who traveled from Nox to see me.

“Friends, my lady Titaine has some plans for us,” I announce. The captain, Karsten and even Leonora’s faces are open as they wait to hear what I’ll say. “As she is to be the lady of the House and our queen, I suppose we ought to accommodate her, don’t you?”

Leonora chuckles. “Being in love looks good on you, Auberon.”

“Everything looks good on me.”

She rolls her eyes, then asks, with barely a sliver of irony, “What does my king command?”