Epilogue - Part 1

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Epilogue - Part 1

Coriane POV

I sigh, throwing my head back in frustration. "Stupid hair" I mutter. I have been moving the stray strands off my forehead, trying to get my hair perfectly combed back. Every time I do, the stubborn strand just falls back. Days like this I wish I had blonde hair. Not dark black hair like my dad's. The dark hair against my porcelain skin is noticeable, no matter how much I try.

"You look perfect, but you're still stressing over that one strand" my mom steps into my room shaking her head, and I didn't even notice her open the door. I have been so preoccupied with this hair. She looks amazing as usual, her dark brown hair falling against her shoulders and back in perfect loose curls. My mother doesn't age. Running every morning, and running after us as kids, kept her young. She always says that to us. I move my eyes to look over her dress, a beautiful floor length red gown with off the shoulder straps. She looks like a true Queen, and holds herself well. She has all these years. Her crown settles nicely on her perfect hair, and unlike me, she doesn't have a hair out of place.

I remember growing up, watching her as she got ready. Watching her as she went from regal Queen to...just our mom. In her running gear, or in her training gear. When I was 12, during the war, the weapons she would carry on her in case the castle was attacked, and the way she still looked badass yet also like a Queen. Now, as a young woman, I see just how special my mother is. How strong. The first Red Queen, to a silver King, who changed our history forever.

"I just can't get this one piece to cooperate" I say, facing the mirror again. I comb it back, but feel her hand as she grabs my wrist. Her hand slides over to my hand and the comb. She takes it, and I let her. I sit near my vanity, and mom watches my reflection in the mirror. She smiles, the smile reaching her eyes, and causing them to shine fiercely. She begins fixing my hair, combing and reaching for the strong hold hair gel on the vanity counter.

"You look beautiful Cori" she starts. I smile. The gown I wear today is white, with lace detailing all over, with light blue jewels all over the bottom of the dress. It sparkles in the light and it brings out the blue in my eyes. With my dark hair, I had this image. An image that made me look like a strong warrior princess, but also a gentle young woman. I smooth my hands over the dress as she continues talking. "Are you sure you want to do this? I know your father and I have asked you so many times...but I just want to be sure. You don't have to do this" she says. Then as if she is arguing with herself, she sighs. I am still smiling and never break eye contact.

"I do mom. This is what I want" I say again, more for myself. As if I need to remind myself why I am doing this.

"The Prince could be a toad...or he could be dull. What would you do then?" she asks, concerned.

"I have already thought of all of those possibilities mom, and I'm ok with it" I answer, again rehearsing. Truth is, if he is bland, I would hate it. There is nothing I want more than a man who can talk to me the way my mom and dad talk to each other. The way they laugh, and tease each other and have competitions. To this day, after all these years together. The toad bit is not as important. Personality matters more to me.

"I don't believe you" she starts. But then something settles in her eyes as she smooths the hair back and takes my crown off the vanity. She places it on my head, and its perfect now. She smiles to herself, still watching me. I watch myself too. I nod once, as if I am ready to do this. We both get up, and she places her hands on my shoulders. "I love you, and I support your decisions. If you want to propose marriage to the Prince of Valhalla, then your father and I agree. If you want to marry a farm boy and live as far away from us as you can, then your father and I will agree. If you want to do whatever it is your heart sets its mind on, then we will agree. But just know... if you are doing this for us or for your siblings and cousins...for family" she breathes deep. "you don't have to. We have power, we have wealth, we are safe" she says. She stops, as if she doesn't know what else to say, and my expression must show I am dead serious about this.

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