Fighting for a Crown

Epilogue

They let me go back to my study instead of my rooms after the wedding dinner was finished. I could barely remember any of what had happened through the day.

My study was cold, so I lit the fire, pacing about the room with footfalls heavier than lead.

At a loss with myself, I pulled open the secret anteroom, staring without seeing it's contents.

"That is the single most cool thing I've seen in a year."

I took down the two paintings I had tried to teach her with. What did that lesson matter anyway? The only thing they both showed was Baracosian kings in power and glory. They crackled on the fire as I gazed on, the silver lining in Topfem's clouds melting slowly away.

Tears stung my eyes so I got up, falling into my huge armchair, Evie's huge armchair, only to realise that I had sat on a book. Fishing it out from beneath me, a weak smile spread on my lips. It was Anthony Reynolds. I could feel her skin under mine as I flicked through the pages. Her fingers had spanned these pages, her eyes had seen these words.

Maybe I couldn't get myself out of this predicament, but she could.

Evie was the one who would save me, she had been all along. She understood these things, she would know how to help me.

So I passed the days doing as instructed by Howard, agreeing with King Thomas at every turn, so that he wouldn't suspect my rebellion. I ignored the protests the villagers put on, because every bad law passed would be reversed as soon as Evie helped me overthrow the king. We were going to stay with Anne-Marie Starkie, the girl whose illness led me to Evie, on our honeymoon tour. Perhaps she'd be able to tell me what Evie was like. Maybe she'd confirm that she was still alive.

I knew that she was still alive, still out there. She would get me out. She would save me.

One day she would come. One day.