Locked Legacies

Epilogue

It is fair to say that Elliana was the most excited of them all. Getting to put on a puffy dress, the most elegant of the archipelago, was her favorite thing to do; besides, the shoes not only made her look gorgeous but also made a clicking sound when she danced that she seemed to adore. That is why, even though it was incredibly early, the six-year-old was throwing herself onto his brother's bed. "How much longer do I have to wait?" She complained, her voice muffled by the blankets she had just fallen on. The man shifted awake, burying his face in his pillow at the realization of what was happening; the sun rays were barely managing to get into the room, which was already a bad sign. "Way too early so as to be waking me up," he replied.

The little girl copied the groan he had let out a couple of seconds ago, which made him laugh under his breath; "What if we put our clothes on, just to see if they fit," she suggested sweetly.

"They fitted yesterday, they fitted the day before, and they have fitted every day for the last two weeks; don't worry, it will fit," his voice was still muffled as he barely lifted his head to speak.

"But they are matching outfits! How would you not want to wear them now?"

"They will still match by the time the Coronation starts," the prince proved a point, yet the child frowned.

"I know, Auggie, I'm not a dalcop—" she defended herself, yet Augustus was quick to interrupt.

"—El!" He stopped her at the use of bad language, which she had clearly learned from Gabriel. Even though that was an attempt to educate her, she simply giggled, which made the prince inevitably laugh too. "Are you laughing at me, Princess Elliana?!" He faked an indignant, dramatic voice, adding a hint of a French accent for the sake of fun, "That is impolite."

"No!" She denied, laughing immediately after, right before being captured by his brother who wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up so she was lying by his side.

The man kept up with the fake act all along; "Then you shall face a sentence of sleep," the bad accent made her laugh even harder.

No matter how hard he had tried, there was no point in trying to continue resting; there was no way that he would be able to after such an interruption on an exciting day. The longer he closed his eyes, the more his heart raced; the images were rushing through his mind. The crown being gently placed on his head, the sword gently brushing his shoulders, the crowd bowing... It made his stomach flutter. So, after a couple of minutes, he placed a blanket over his sleeping sister and tiptoed out of his room. Heading directly to the dining room, he walked with mixed feelings. Behind the elation was some underlying worry.

That is why he didn't really notice anything as he sat by the table, raising his cup to his lips. It was only when he felt a pair of arms being wrapped around him that he was dragged down to reality. "Good morning, future king," his mother was squeezing him tight as she greeted him, on the verge of making his lungs collapse.

The man wheezed. "I will not make it if you choke me," he groaned, making the other pull away with a smile.

"How are you feeling?" The woman asked, softly shaking his shoulder in excitement, which made him chuckle.

"Well," he shrugged, his tone slightly higher than normal. He laid the glass on the table once again with an expression that didn't totally match his previous statement.

Needless to say, his mother noticed this; she could have smelled his doubt from miles away. "But...?" She asked, expecting him to complete the sentence with what was on his mind.

"I am nervous, Ma," he confessed with a sigh, unconsciously passing his fingers through his hair. The woman immediately pulled the chair by his side and sat down, taking ahold of his hand in an attempt to make him feel more heard. "Tell me why, dear."