Epilogue: The Newlyweds’ Lives
ELIZABETH and my wedding marked the beginning of a proper marriage fever, and, of course, everyone wanted their prince and princess present to bless their unions. We spent a great amount of time traveling throughout the kingdom to visit nearly every wedding in the land. When I’d asked my bride if she was tired, she’d shake her head.
“This is almost like a honeymoon!” she replied sweetly, and that was enough to change my ennui to eagerness.
Harold and Lady Margaret’s ceremony was held in the palace gardens, with rose arches and heart-shaped topiary. As Harold was my foster brother and best friend, and Lady Margaret was Elizabeth’s best friend and bodyguard, no expenses were spared for their marriage. Lady Margaret officially became Elizabeth’s lady-in-waiting and bodyguard in earnest, prompting her to move into the palace with us. Harold had clearly been anticipating this day for many years, as he smiled more on that day than he had in all the years I’d known him.
I was admittedly worried about Edward and Lady Selena’s marriage, but it went as smoothly as could be expected. Though the bride stepped on her dress and slipped on steps at every opportunity, Edward’s reflexes and strength ensured he always covered for her. I doubt any of the other guests noticed a thing the whole time. Perhaps they were made for each other, after all.
Lord Zachary and his wife were in tears from start to finish, and I spotted their servant, Walter, crying his eyes out with our steward in the corner of the reception hall. Hardly anyone from House Haven was in attendance, so the majority of the guest list was House Norden’s servants and guards. They were practically family, after all, and many of them had known Edward from the day he was born. They endeavored to keep their emotions in check, but that didn’t stop the entire hall from saturating with enthusiasm. In a sense, it was far more intense than even Elizabeth and my ceremony had been.
Raphael and Yulisse had no ceremony; they simply submitted their registration with the palace and called it done. Even Lord Dominic seemed content with such an abridged celebration. It also happened that Yulisse’s proclivity for holy magic shown at our wedding was no fluke, and she was officially recognized as a saint-in-training. Her recent repentance led to her being pardoned for her old crimes as well—which meant Raphael must have made it abundantly clear she had no choice in the matter. The feeling was clearly mutual on some level, however, as she would’ve never agreed to marry him…I hoped.
Still, Lady Yulisse and Raphael had worked hard to hone her talents to such heights. We visited them the day before last to find Raphael beside himself with joy, though he had the same steely glint in his eyes that I knew him for. There, he revealed the trick.
“Little Yulie spent many days praying to that fake manacite, and those prayers grew her magical talents more than she knew.”
Clearly, she’d wanted to be queen quite badly back then.
“Of course,” he continued with a chuckle, “it was pure coincidence that it bore fruit.”
I snorted. “Liar. You’ve been planning this for ages.”
He only chuckled and held a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture.
Right… He took Yulisse with him on his investigation in the northeast, didn’t he?
“Do you remember how Lady Lecia’s powers awakened when Prince Leohardt fell off the balcony? Well, I had a near-death experience of my own on my little expedition!”
He rolled up his shirt. I would’ve sprung across the table to stop him if Elizabeth were there, but luckily, she was at tea with Lady Margaret. Harold raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything—or rather, he couldn’t. Despite the cheery smile on Raphael’s face, there were jagged scars across his abdomen, presumedly left by a monster.
“That looks like it could be fatal without immediate treatment.” Harold frowned.
“Oh, you pervert!” Raphael sniggered at Harold. “No, relax, I’m joking. Though it’s true, I wouldn’t have had the mana to save myself on my own.”
I shuddered. “I’m glad you got Yulisse to care for you.”
“Right? Honestly, I can’t thank her enough!”
She’d been terrified of him in the beginning when her fate was placed squarely in his hands, but evidently, his genuine feelings for her had shone through.
“Of course, she’s still a former felon,” Raphael added. “We’ll be minding our own business in Father’s lands for the next while.”
I nodded. “That’d probably be for the best. What exactly is a saint-in-training, though? Can’t say I’ve ever heard of the position.”
“Well, there’s only one Saint recognized in the country at a time, and she doesn’t possess all the qualifications yet. So Yulie—no, my wife is still in training.”
“You don’t need to correct yourself; I didn’t forget,” I sighed. “And er. We have a Saint?”
It wasn’t in any history books, though tales of Saints were common in old legends.
Raphael cocked his head to the side, confused. “You didn’t know Queen Mariabel is a Saint? Of course, sainthood is a position appointed and kept by the Ministry of Magecraft, so their very existence is something of a secret. But you know she maintains the barriers keeping our country safe, don’t you? She was also the one who arranged the purchase of the wild lands to the northeast.”
To think Mother had even more secrets…