I stood up and paced toward the cribs. “Would that be enough? Would it make up for the lie?”
He thought about it. “I don’t know.”
I looked between the two sleeping forms, and that’s when the tears started. I wasn’t a crier. With Pagiel’s death and even in some of the more hormonal moments of pregnancy, my tears had been pretty minimal. Now, they were an onslaught as all the hurt I’d been holding within me for so long burst out. I cried for Dorian, for the secret I would have to keep from him. I cried for Isaac and Ivy, who would spend a good part of their life never knowing the truth about their parents. And I cried for myself, because I was going to hurt every day I was apart from my children.
Evan put his arms around me and let me cry into his chest. He didn’t try to tell me everything would be okay, and I was grateful for that.
“I don’t want to leave them,” I sobbed.
“I know,” he said.
I sniffed. “I’ve never had to make decisions this hard before ... and believe me, I’ve had to make some pretty tough ones.”
Evan nodded. “That’s because they were always about you. Everything changes when someone else’s life is in your hands.”
Chapter 29
My kingdoms welcomed me back, both the lands themselves and the people. Everyone was in good spirits. Most of the destruction had been repaired, and increases in both our own crops and those imported from the unblighted kingdoms were making rations less strict. In the Otherworld, the relationship between monarch and land was viewed as a sacred bond. In many ways, people saw their monarch as an extension of the land—which perhaps wasn’t so far off. What it meant was that much of the credit for the land’s rebirth was laid at my feet. I wanted to brush off the praise—particularly since I felt a lot of our success was the result of my clever servants—but I was told it was a futile goal.
I’d spent a couple joyous—but bittersweet—weeks in Huntsville before a quick stay in Tucson led me back to the Otherworld. I’d left Alabama with a gift from Candace: a baby book with records of early development, pictures, and even tiny locks of the twins’ wispy hair (which definitely looked reddish). Through a system nearly as complicated as my travel there, she promised to send regular pictures for my book so that the twins wouldn’t be strangers when I saw them again. Dorian might not find out about his offspring for a while, but I planned on checking in on them when I could.
No one mentioned him at all in the Thorn Land, so I finally cracked and brought him up to Shaya while we were inspecting a garden filled with flowering cacti. The mesquite trees were also in bloom, filling the air with a sweet, heady scent. Tucson was heading into winter soon, and while that was a pretty mild season for them, it made me appreciate the Thorn Land’s perpetually perfect climate that much more.
“Has Dorian, um, asked about me?”
She’d been studying a retaining wall with a critical eye and looked up in surprise. “No, not that I know of. I’ve only seen him once since you left. Someone else asked him about you, though, and he simply said that you had important things to tend to and would return in your own time.” She hesitated, never one to really advise on my personal affairs. “I think ... I think he’s waiting for you, Your Majesty.”
He’s waiting for you. He’d told me that before I left. Dorian had laid everything out for me. He’d proved his love and loyalty over and over. I’d told Evan I was getting back together with Dorian. I’d even sort of accepted it in my head. But something inside me kept holding back. I had yet to act and needed to. Dorian had opened his heart to me. It was time for me to answer.
I skipped protocol and traveled to the Oak Land by myself. My safety might not be an immediate concern anymore, but status said I should have an escort. I liked the alone time, though, and smiled when I saw some of the Oak Land’s trees touched with the fiery hue of autumn. Dorian wasn’t quite ready to let it slip into the season he loved, but it was getting closer.
As I approached his castle, I spared a brief moment to wonder if I should have worn gentry attire. I was in one of my favorite outfits, jeans and a Def Leppard shirt. No, I decided. This was who I was. I wouldn’t try to create an image that was more than that. Just before entering the castle, however, I did put on a crown he’d once given me. It was a delicate little thing, tiny gold roses and emeralds. I liked it because it was from him and because it wasn’t too showy.
I received a warm welcome from the guards and was led outside through one of the back entrances. I expected to find Dorian in one of the many courtyards he spent his time in but was instead taken farther out on the grounds, finally ushered into a small, pretty clearing ringed in the trees that had given the Oak Land its name. Several members of Dorian’s court sat around in the grass on blankets, making a picnic of the sunny day. Their focus was on the clearing’s center, which contained a medium-sized pond. A path of very small stepping stones extended across the water, stopping at about the middle. There, balancing on one foot on the farthest stone, was Muran. He was sweating visibly, but I doubted it was from the heat.
Dorian stood near the edge like some kind of mad ringmaster, the sunlight setting his long hair ablaze. With an elegant gesture, he made a rock float through the air and settle in the water in front of Muran. The servant—who had been starting to waver—gratefully jumped onto the new rock with his other foot.
“Eugenie, Queen of Rowan and Thorn,” announced the herald.
Dorian looked over at me with surprise that quickly turned to joy. It was such a rare outpouring of affection from his normally lazy smile that I felt weak in the knees.
“My dear,” he said. “You’re just in time. I was demonstrating the amazing bridge feat we conducted on our journey to the Yew Land. Muran is assisting me.” Another rock landed in front of Muran who immediately jumped on it one-footed.
It was perhaps one of the more ridiculous things I’d seen Dorian do with Muran—and I’d seen some pretty ridiculous things. I laughed out loud. I was suddenly so happy to see Dorian, I thought my heart would burst. Our life had been filled with so many complications that I hadn’t allowed myself to really feel or acknowledge how I felt. I had loved him for some time, I realized, and wasn’t going to deny my feelings anymore.
Ignoring propriety, I ran up to him and threw my arms around him. I kissed him hard, a kiss he didn’t hesitate to return with equal ardency. One of his hands rested on my hip, the other on my hair. He pulled me as close as we could possibly get while clothed, and my whole body turned to fire from that kiss. I felt like it would consume me, and I welcomed it.
Public displays of affection were perfectly normal among the gentry, but I had never made any secret of my disdain for them. I’d always rejected them, no matter how much Dorian tried to coax me. Right now, I really didn’t care who was watching. It was actually kind of a surprise that he was the one who pulled back from the kiss, though his grip on me didn’t lessen at all.
“This,” he said, “might be the most astonishing thing that’s happened in a while.”
I gazed up at him, momentarily caught in the green of his eyes that our children were already starting to inherit. “I missed you,” I said simply.
His lips twisted into a smile. “Even so, I’m not quite sure what I’ve done to deserve a welcome like that.”
“What haven’t you done?” I asked, echoing his constant “What wouldn’t I do for you?” rhetoricals.
“Um, Your Majesty ...”
Muran’s voice was tremulous, and glancing over, I saw he was dangerously close to falling into the water. Dorian studied my face a few moments longer before finally turning to see what his servant wanted. “Eh? Oh, that.” With an impatient gesture, Dorian sent a whole set of rocks across the water, completing the path. Muran sprinted across it, sagging with visible relief when he reached the other side. Dorian returned his attention to me.