Nevermore

Epilogue (Pt 1)

Five years later

They play on the new balcony, the sun at their backs.  I watch with a smile on my face. Lady Lesso once said that Evil Families are as fickle as dandelion seeds, blowing away on the wind. I've proved her wrong. It was three years ago, when I first became pregnant. Me and Rafal were ecstatic of course, we both wished to have a family. We named our baby Jaxon - not for any particular reason but because we both liked it. He's a beautiful boy, three years old now. He has my golden blonde hair, Rafal's icy blue eyes and pale skin. His hair is curly, which constantly falls into his face. He reminds me of Tedros sometimes, because of the appearance. Perhaps Tedros looked like he did when he was young? 

Jaxon is obsessed with becoming a knight for some reason although we did nothing for him to think that way. He chatters on and on about destroying Evil and saving princesses. Seems like I did something wrong. My son is not Evil. He reminds me more of what Agatha and Tedros's kid woud have been like, but I still love him more than anything. He gets on with his half-brother, Rhian, very well. Rhian is the King of Camelot now with Japeth by his side and the city has once again been returned to glory and splendour. He married Daphne of Murmuring Mountains for her power but she ran away two years ago with the Wolf Prince, Farkas and neither of them have been seen since. They exist as nothing more but ghosts and bitter memories. 

Hester and Anadil didn't defy us at any point, to my surprise. They're an official couple now, high ranking generals, content with their lives, it seems. I caught them having a picnic date on the roof last night. 

The tower has had some renovations, since me and Rafal ascended to power. It's two floors now with a walk in closet, the children sharing the biggest room and me and Rafal opposite them. There's a dining room, lounge, and office. It's cosy in a dark themed way - black wallpaper, pillows, blankets, chairs, sofas. The carpet is not black though, but a plush white, in contrast to the rest of the tower, an oxymoron. 

My second daughter is  only two years old. Kaya is playing with some wooden dolls she enjoys destroying. She's evil incredibly so, it cannot be denied. She loves destroying anything she can and her favourite hobby is insulting her siblings. It may not seem much, but I know in my heart she will grow up to be a dark, dark soul indeed. She's inherited Rafal's snowy white hair, but has my emerald green eyes and skin so pale, she could fool people playing dead. Her magic is not strong but her younger sister makes up for that, only one year old. Her name is Vanessa, after my late mother which means butterfly.  Her eyes are Rafal's but wise for such a young infant. Her hair is black as the night sky, tufts growing on her head. She does magic by accident occasionally despite not having a fingerglow. When she cries, the rain pours in sorrow. Vanessa once killed a cat we had gotten, with a dark curse, crumbling the cat into a pile of ash. If she can do that now, she's going to be one of the most powerful witches when she is older. By her face, I can tell she's going to be one of the prettiest too. 

Rafal is soft with the children. They bring out a kinder side in him, something children do without trying. I cradle Vanessa in my arms while she sleeps, so still, unmoving, her eyes firmly shut. I can hear her breaths, steady and calm. 

Rafal plays with Kaya, lifting her into the air, pretending he's a King for her to kill, causing the little girl to laugh in delight at the game. Jaxon is content on his own, playing with his toy horse. 

It feels as if my life is set, the jigsaw pieces in my place. Every day I wonder what would have happened if I had chosen Agatha, but at the end of the day, I'm glad at the choice I made. I'm happy, which is what matters. 

"Kaya is a future Empress of Evil," I half-joke to Rafal who stands next to me on the balcony (that is highly protected from any children falling off). "She certainly is unlike Jaxon. I love him, of course but..."

I nod. "We don't have to worry about that now. Let's think about the moment."

"The moment," he echoes, sliding an arm around me as the setting sun bleeds to the wrath of the night sky.