Who Said Life was Fair? - A Novella

Epilogue

Azure had cut her hair.

It was the only thing he could focus on as they sat at a diner table, looking over the city of Feyrgania. The waves that used to hang, chestnut brown, just above her waist, were now short, teal curls.
She'd finally moved out of her parents' house two weeks ago, and managed to find a steady job as a translator for romance stories, most of them from Plumsk. What dreadful irony.

She always said she'd change her last name one day. Lucas had told her he'd do the same.

He still had his doubts, but he kept them private.

"Are you alright?" she asked, fiddling with her new curls. They look so much better this way, Lucas thought. The weight of her hair had made it impossible to keep her curls intact. As soon as she'd cut it, they sprang up like young saplings, full of life and energy.

"I'm... fine," he replied distractedly. He and his cousin had long made their peace – six months ago in fact. "Just thinking."

"Tell me what's wrong, or I swear I will poke you to death." Even with the new hair, she was still her feisty self. But a lot of the anger was gone.

"I... never told you what happened that day."

She knew what day he was talking about. The day he'd shown up at her parents' doorstep, tears running down his face, and begged Felicity to see her. The day he'd cried until his eyes hurt. She didn't ask any questions. That was the best part.

"What is there to tell? We're related to a bunch of monsters. They manipulated you. That's all I need to know." She slurped down her drink, one arm slung over her chair. Lucas chuckled. His cousin really had no manners.

He told her the whole story, from beginning to horribly abrupt, tragic ending. He didn't cry while retelling how Diora had screamed – only when Azure laid a hand on his arm.

"Yup, still idiots. Don't worry, none of this is your fault." She raised her brow. "Are you gonna finish that muffin?"

"I... I thought you'd be more surprised. You know, the whole... shapeshifter thing." The word hurt to say, but he managed to choke it out.

"What, King Ivory being a shapeshifter? Or Diora?"

"Both," he replied. He could barely spare a thought for the king at the time, but he supposed this covered all the rumors of witchcraft that had been circulating about him. "I'm honestly surprised no one's captured or killed him yet."

"He's smart, and the people back him up," Azure said. "It'll be harder than that." He handed her his muffin, and she bit down.

"I guess." He tried to dispel any lingering thoughts of Diora, but it was harder than it looked. "Oh! Haven't you heard? Paige Idobello is marrying the Prince."

"Noemia's crush? Oh, there's no way that'll go bad." She snorted. "I won't be surprised if she kills him for vengeance. You know, a crime of passion!" She exaggerated the word, and Lucas snickered.

"Breaking news, royal marriage is interrupted by a young Riel in a fit of rage. Calls herself Andromeda." At that, Azure burst out laughing.

They stood there for a while, Azure finishing her blueberry muffin. "Whoops, gotta go meet Sol at five. See ya." She left him to pay the bill, ever so gracious.

After leaving the café, Lucas walked the streets alone.

Maybe she's still around, he thought. Maybe she hasn't died. Maybe I can bust her out of prison.

Maybe he could, one day. Probably best not to feed these indulgences further, though.

He sighed. The important thing was, he was away from Aunt Primrose and Uncle Jordan, Aunt Gladys, Felicity and Noemia. His own parents. Rodric.

He wasn't alone, though. He had Azure. Someday, he'd make other friends. Maybe not. Maybe he'd fly to Plumsk, see her homeland with brand new eyes. Maybe tour the palace. 

Sometimes he dreamed of telling King Ivory he was thankful – the king had been the reason they'd met, after all.

Sometimes he dreamed of coming across him in a dark alley, handing him over to his brother's goons, and putting a bullet through his skull. None of this would've happened if it weren't for him.

Diora's voice, though, told him not to. Your kind always protect each other, Rodric had said. Diora had handed herself over to protect Ivory, and Lucas wouldn't disrespect that.

Still, he could sometimes feel his brother's hatred when staring at the telecom. That this man, this so-called king is alive and Diora is rotting in a prison somewhere. In those moments, he felt closer to him – the version of him in his mind, the one that showed him the logical path to things.

He respected that person – if he still existed somewhere, deep inside the charred, inky blackness that was Rodric's heart.

He had even grown to respect himself a little. And, most days, he counted that as a victory.