by Tara Brown
Lyle leaned into me, where we sat at the main table in the hall the king had demanded be built specifically for gatherings, and kissed my cheek. I could tell he was going to say something so I spoke before he could, “I can’t believe the king forced this building to be built before the others we needed so badly.”
Lyle nodded. “He told me this sort of thing, celebrations and weddings, create a better community. He said people need something to look forward to and live for. They will survive but to get them to live again you must offer them something to work toward.”
I shrugged, glancing about the room. “It seems to have worked. I suppose if anyone knows how to save people, it’s him.”
As if he heard our conversation from his end of the table, the king stood, silencing the room with a hand in the air. When everyone was quiet he raised his mug and smiled wide with his chubby lips. “My friends, tonight we are here to celebrate the marriage of a man I never imagined I would see again, to a woman I have known to be kind and sweet. This pairing is proof that we can never predict the Lord’s intentions for us and that we can never forget that redemption is offered to all who seek it.”
The room was quiet in what I felt was awkward, but then again I knew the details of Michael’s expulsion from the kingdom where I assumed many did not.
“So let us toast to our first wedding, our first feast as a kingdom rebuilt, and our first meal in this fine hall. And let us all remember that we built a life here once on the shore of this lake and we can rebuild it again. We have rebuilt it again. We will succeed because we will learn from our mistakes. I have seen what comes of complacency. This time we will build an army so big that if our enemies ever dare to come for us again, we will crush their bones on the shores of this fine lake!”
The room erupted in cheer as the mugs were banged against one another and the people shouted all at once. But Lyle didn't offer his mug to anyone else. He stared at me intently. “I am sorry. I can never be sorry enough. I will be sorry until the day I die.”
“Not here,” I whispered back, not wanting a scene. “We need to talk away from the crowds.”
He slipped my hand in his and lifted me from my seat, leading me through the rambunctious crowd of feasting people. The amount of food was far less than the first time I had eaten in the king’s hall, but no less delicious and needed.
When we got outside I shivered but he wrapped his arm around me and led me down the streets that had started to form between the rows of houses and buildings. It would be a proper town by the end of next fall at the rate we were going.
We didn't speak outside, just walked hand in hand through the crunchy snow and soft sound of the falling flakes.
The moment we were inside of his small house he pressed his back against the closed door and muttered, “I don't recall exactly what happened, but I do remember that I needed to find you. I knew there was no life without you.” His soft tone in the warm dark of his house was soothing in all the right places, but I didn't move toward him. He didn't step toward me but stayed at the door, frozen there. “Regardless of my feelings for you, I have no excuses. None. I acted out of vengeance, against my better judgment. For that I can never be more sorry.”
There, in the silent dark, he offered me nothing but his bared soul. I stepped away from him and walked to the fire, letting it seep into my bones and chase away the cold. My silence made him speak more.
“All I know is we had fled, and Murphy was angry that I wanted to go back for you. He tried to convince me you were fine, you were a survivor. I doubted you and risked your friends and I shouldn't have. I risked Gregory and I see that now.” His voice never rose above a whisper but his words echoed around me. “I am begging you to forgive me because I am going crazy without you.”
His head lowered, I could see it in the firelight. I watched him for a moment, really seeing the agony I had caused him by being distant.
“Gwyn, if you can’t forgive me and you need me to leave you alone, I will. But I can’t stop loving you. I won’t stop. I’d rather live with every memory and every moment we had as my only company than force myself to get over this.”
I walked to him slowly, placing my hands on his face. “I forgave you the moment you did it. I just needed time to sort it all out in my head. I have always placed you on a pedestal of perfection. I never imagined you would do a single terrible thing, like lead a man into the forest and kill him cowardly.”
He flinched but I held his face steady, forcing him to look at me. “I know you are not a coward but now I also know you are human and you will make mistakes. Mistakes like making me forget you. Mistakes like asking your cousin to try and trick me into liking him. Mistakes like letting me live with Murphy to keep me safe.” I shook my head as the cloud of knowledge and truth landed on me. “I don't need you to keep me safe. I don't need to find my safety in anyone else. I can take care of myself. I’ve proven that.”
He looked down on me and smiled, his blue eyes filled with emotion. “I can’t live without you.”
“You don't have to. You just have to trust me that I am not the girl I was. I am not the Gwyn from the Last City of Men who was weak and pathetic. I chose to leave the city. I chose to stay with the river folk. I chose to find my friends and free them. I chose all of those things because they were right and just. I chose them because it would have plagued me all my life that I knew the truth and never acted on it.”
He nodded excitedly. “I know. I see that. You are strong and brave and independent, and I like you even better for it.” His tone deepened, “I love you better for it.”
I stood on my tiptoes and still had to pull his face down a bit to kiss his cheek softly. “You don't have to live without me, Lyle, because I love you. I have loved you always and I never trusted it because of where we came from and how we were put together. I believed I loved Bran because it was random; I met him on my own and fell in love with him without anyone knowing about it. It was all mine and my doing. I believed I had beaten the system. But I see that it was never that way. It was forced on me intentionally, the same way you were and the same way Murphy was.”
He looked hurt but I couldn't spare him the pain of my words. I needed to say them. “So in the end, finally free of the strings that made me a puppet, here I am. I am here in the dark with you, inappropriately touching and hoping and imagining all sorts of things. I am here, with you, to tell you that I love you, not in spite of your being human but because of it. I love the way you care for other people. I love that you would die for me, in every version of you. I love that you never think of yourself. It is always the greater good. And because of all those things I know you will be an amazing king for this kingdom. You will be the person they need you to be.”
He lifted his hands to mine, taking them from his cheeks and kissing the backs of them both. “And I know you will redefine queen for these people, by my side.”
I nodded, knowing there was truth in his words. I had to face the fact that we had been preselected to rule the city and now we were choosing to rule the kingdom. We would never escape the role of superior engineers, and leaders. But here in this world, this new world, we could make the rules and lead in a way that benefitted everyone.
He wrapped himself around me, kissing me and carrying me to the furs that lined the fire’s hearth. There, in the flicker of the orange glow from each flame that licked the wood it burned, we made love. We created love—a new love that was formed with respect and honor. It was the foundation of the love we would need to create the world we so desperately wanted to live in.
The redemption wasn't just ours; it was everyone’s.
The ghost of loves long gone
Coronation was a word I had never used. Crowning and coronation meant the same thing. When the king placed the crown on Lyle’s head, declaring him the king’s heir, we all stood in wonder of the crown. It was golden and shined so smoothly I could see my face from across the altar.
Lyle beamed, looking every bit the m
an he ought to be to lead. His broad shoulders and strong arms had been made bigger by the hard work. His light-brown beard was a touch darker than his dark-blond hair. His eyes twinkled with experience though he was a young man. The joy on his lips made us all smile. I wished I could see the dimple but the beard covered it completely.
Sometimes in bed I would hold the candle close to his face and force him to smile so I could see it if I pushed the hair to the side. It made him self-conscious but I enjoyed that part too.
The queen offered me a crown next, placing it on my head and offering a slight nod. I thanked her with a subtle bow, a sign of respect.
Lyle took my hand and turned us both to face the crowd. They cheered, almost making wind, there were so many of them. The spring had brought many more to us, hundreds. But we just built faster, enjoying the longer days of spring. Summer would be even better.
A pair of green eyes caught my eye in the crowd. I smiled at him, seeing the Bran I had once known, but not the one who I had loved. This Bran had an arm around a woman with dark skin and black hair. She was stunningly beautiful and caring in a way I could hardly stand to watch.
The night before they had invited us to dinner. She doted on him to the point of making him a touch spoiled. As she wiped his mouth and planted a kiss on him at dinner, I noticed Lyle giving me a look. I rolled my eyes and tossed a napkin at him.
Bran laughed, his green eyes twinkling with delight. In their version of The Last City of Men, Bran had never tried to deceive me. Lyle and I were chosen as the superior engineers, but there was no deception involved. We had been chosen because we were chosen in every city. We were the planned leaders of humanity. In those cities, Bran and Lyle had no memories. As far as we knew, it was only in our city that they recalled yesterday with perfect detail.
Murphy had not been excited that Bran didn't know him, but the friendship didn’t take long to develop.
Amber and Bran’s wife, Nadine, had become fast friends as well. They cooked and baked and gossiped like old friends. Nan still struggled with the females wanting to befriend her, and instead chose to work out of doors with me. We worked and trained with the army, and built with the laborers. Neither of us had become skilled enough to be considered domestic goddesses.
In the crowd of cheering people I noticed Brooke’s sour face. She had never recovered from Lyle’s cavorting about with her and then snubbing her.
Next to her Beth was arm in arm with a man from The Lost City. They had met when she went for trade goods and he had come back with her. I loved seeing her so happy.
My mother and father smiled at me as if they were proud and I hoped they were. We had all come so far and fought so hard to be the people we had been intended to be, minus the puppet strings of the engineers.
In the very back of the room, near the doors, I saw movement in the shadows. I narrowed my gaze, focusing hard. When I saw his face I smiled wider, fighting off the tears. My brother offered me a subtle glance and big smile before his eyes drifted to his son in the arms of Tyler McNeill. His look was filled with envy and yet also peace. I knew he had come to bid us farewell. I had that feeling, deep inside of me. Gregory’s little face spun around, smiling and waving as he saw his father in the shadows. He was only a little boy, and yet so clever.
My brother gave me another look. He stared for a moment, and I could see the pride in his face as I had my parents. He was there, loving each of us that had been part of his life, and then he was gone, leaving only a blue frost mark on the door. I longed to place my hand there, touching that little bit of him for even a moment.
We had come full circle and we didn't need him there to warn us or linger here between the place with the light I believed was Heaven, and this place where everything haunted him.
I let my gaze leave the frost mark as I scanned the cheering crowd, listening to the king give yet another speech on our strength as a people.
Michael and Anna stood side-by-side, arm in arm. He had fattened a little over the winter and let his beard take over his face, as was the way for men here. They were next to Clary and Lisle, who also had a warm look upon their faces. Lisle gave me a small wave as my eyes left hers.
The people in the crowd had become family. From Rodin and Maria in the corner, both rubbing her sprouted belly that held the next person to be born here, to Bran and his wife, the woman I would always wish I could emulate even just a little. She loved everyone with a capacity I couldn't even come close to. But her life in The Last City of Men had been easy and her travels here had been short.
I had scars, varying in size on the outside and massive ones inside. I had fallen to my knees in desperate grief and sadness more times than people like her had shed tears. My losses, though from this angle looked smaller, were vast.
My whole heart had been left in the desert, closed off, fallen silent, turned to stone, and nearly died altogether several times.
But here in the room filled with people I loved, it was hard to remember how all of that felt. Lyle and Bran had found each other. Murphy and Bran had recreated a friendship that Bran didn't even know they had enjoyed before. Brooke, Beth, and Amber were still the girls who everyone wanted to be friends with and everyone wished they had on their arms. Tyler was still more handsome than anyone I had ever seen, besides Lyle.
But those were just the things you could see at a quick glance. If you looked deeper you would discover pain, sorrow, and scars. Many of us carried with us the whip marks of the slavers, scars to remind us of something we never wanted to see again.
We each had lost everything, only to have it found again but in a different form. Even Lyle and I were changed from the people we had once been. But I liked us better this way. When he held my hand I knew he remembered how it felt to wish my hand was there. I knew he could still feel the panic of not knowing if I was alive, and for that he was more grateful for me.
Just as I had pain I had not even let myself feel when he was dead. That pain that all came crashing down and forced itself upon me the moment I knew he was alive. It still lingered sometimes, like a nightmare my brain toyed with. All of the bad things were still there, haunting us and inspiring us at the same time.
There were times I felt it, the overwhelming anguish. Like when he slept and I dragged my fingers across the scars on his body, his back especially. It was lined with the whip marks.
The world had potential to be an outstanding place filled with diversity and wonderment, and as free people we had the chance to make the most of it. But no matter how hard we tried, the world wasn't ever going to be perfect and the joy and bliss would always be met with at least some fear and anger.
But building a wall and trapping us inside, and lying about what was really on the other side, hadn’t worked. No matter how perfect their plan had been, Lisabeth and her cronies had not been able to make the world work for them or us.
Human nature always found a way to disrupt the peace. Especially if a cage was forced upon us.
Human nature would always find a way to free us, even from ourselves.
Maybe the answer wasn’t the kingdom, but we would try again and again until we got it right.
Looking out among the faces of the people we had saved or who had saved us, I could see we were on the right path. We desperately wanted the same things and our common goals and previous comforts would push us to succeed.
The king took my hand and placed it in Lyle’s, declaring us the king and queen in waiting.
Again the room erupted but it all slowed down for me, just like it had before. Only this time no one died.
I looked at Lyle, even if I was meant to look out at the crowd. He waved and smiled, being the person he naturally was born to be, a leader. When his eyes caught a glimpse of mine focused on him, he turned his face. His smile went from the one he gave everyone, to the one he only gave me. He reached forward, cupping my face and tilting my chin and placed a soft kiss on my lips.
Since we were in the cathedral of the God the
king believed in, it was a small kiss. No different than the one they did at the end of their marriage ceremony. But even a small kiss could contain a little bit of everything and it did.
He took my hand again and walked us down the aisle, the one we would walk down again in a month when the flowers started to bloom.
That was our proposed wedding date.
We walked outside to a blue sky, birds chirping, and a breeze that didn't try to peel the skin off of you. He didn't wait for everyone to come and congratulate us. He dragged me to the side of the building, lifting me into his arms and kissed me properly.
I closed my eyes and listened to the world around us, letting my heart swell and my mind wander into the possibilities.
“Come and let people congratulate you.” My mother scolded us, reminding me we were still so very young.
Lyle grinned against my lips, his beard tickling my skin. “Meet me later?” he whispered.
I nodded as he put me down and we walked back around to be hugged and shook until we vibrated without being touched.
My parents walked me home, ensuring I didn't end up at Lyle’s house. The king had strict rules about living in what he called sin. The priest would have to marry us before we were meant to be sleeping in the same house.
Nan gave me a look, her usual pondering expression. “Ya think the slavers will ever come back?”
I shrugged. “Lyle and the king have a plan if they do. They’ve started making catapults and steam cannons. Machines from a very long time ago.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I think we should go there and make sure they’re finished off.”
“I agree.”
My father chuckled. “Now, now, girls. It isn’t our place to tell the king how to fight with his army. He knows what he’s doing.”
Nan snorted. “That clearly worked last time.”
My father’s brow lowered as he looked around us. “That is treason, Nan. You can’t talk about such things.”
