Diamond in the Rough - Vivienne Savage Page 0,53

chance to know the woman who birthed her—but no other choice had resonated in her heart with the certainty of her decision to resurrect Mira.

Inja dipped his head forward and smiled. “A wise choice, my daughter. Mira, walk among the living once more. The thread that was prematurely cut shall be spun anew.”

Rosalia released a long breath, even as confidence shot through her.

The pale translucence of Mira shone with golden light, the warmth intensifying by the second until it was impossible to see her without squinting. Rosalia raised one hand to shield her face from the intense light, dazzled by its brilliance.

“We grant you good tidings and fortune.”

“Prosperity.”

Islena glanced at her brother. “Fellowship.”

“And all other good things that come in our name.”

When the light faded, Mira stood in its place, whole and hale, her cheeks bright with color and her hair loose around her shoulders. She wore a dress in sapphire blue, its silk rustled by the desert wind snaking between the dunes. The final rays of sun slanting over the desert turned her mahogany hair molten and fire-touched.

“I’m…I’m alive again. I’m really alive.”

Rosalia flew across the sand to her, nearly stumbling over a slain demon mid-sprint. They met halfway, laughing and crying together, squeezing each other tight before sinking down to the blood-soaked sand amidst the corpses of their enemies. None of the devastation mattered. The chaos faded to the background.

There they remained for several minutes longer, two friends reunited after one had achieved the impossible.

Epilogue

One Month Later

The sun slipped behind the clouds on a breezy autumn day as Rosalia walked side by side with her best friend. They were both dressed in their finest autumn attire. Rosalia wore rich amber and ripe berry silk with pops of saffron, and Mira had donned brilliant cobalt with a field of pink poppies. Nothing delighted her more than sweeping through the upscale shopping district of the Twilight Gardens without a limit to their spending spree.

They’d always dreamed of being rich. Now that dream had come true, and a whole new world had opened to them. Before, there had been plenty of frugal weeks and scarce months when the watch had a wild hair about thieves or the pickings were simply too slim to make ends meet.

But now, they didn’t need to steal at all.

It was a weight lifted from her shoulders. It was a miracle she’d never thought would come to life, though part of her thought she’d always miss the thrill of creeping through a second-story window to lift valuables from an unsuspecting noble.

The theater loomed before them, a shuttered and boarded building lacking the warmth and life it exuded a mere season ago. Vandals had broken in a few weeks prior—as it turned out, murdering every guild thief had only abolished organized crime.

“How much do you think it’ll cost to repair the windows?” Mira asked.

“As if it matters. We can afford to pay whatever they ask.”

Initially, it seemed infinite chaos would reign and the city would never find peace again. The kingdom had no official ruler, for Gregarus had no legitimate heirs to oppose Rosalia stepping forward to claim the throne, and she had no actual desire to accept it. As far as she was concerned, she had only one father.

His name was Hadrian, and he was all the father she wanted to claim.

Nobles and members of the court fought and argued in those early days, before Gregarus’s corpse even cooled. Lords and ladies bickered over who would be crowned to lead in his place. Eventually, it rounded back to her desires as the sole heir of the royal family—a claim proven by Enchantress Elora with a bloodline tracing spell proving a bond between Rosalia and the late king.

Legally, the kingdom belonged to her, and she could ascend the throne. As she had no desire for the throne and craved all other possibilities, she named Enchantress Elora as Queen Regent to rule in her stead and handle all matters of the kingdom, including the forging of a long and lasting friendship with the Moritta as well as the elves. All of the old prejudices wouldn’t end overnight, but they were one step closer to an alliance that would serve all.

Then, slowly but surely, they worked to right all of the wrongs that they could, beginning with returning the stones to the temples where they belonged. Isabis and her people left with the Heart of Moritan, and Rosalia personally delivered the Light of Arcadian to the temple with Adriano. True