by Ryder Bailey
"Incredible," Markiel breathed as he examined the blade. "It truly does exist."
Coulta nodded. "And it does channel magic very well."
"A wonderful gift," Markiel said as he handed the blade back to him. "I would still love to see how they get it."
Coulta sheathed the blade again. "There is no place you would like to call home?"
Markiel shrugged. "I haven't had that desire for a long time."
"There are four houses available in Upper Ryal. I could name you as a noble now, being my father. If you don't want that, there are several more houses in Middle Ryal. You wouldn't need to earn much money yourself, either."
"Why would you want me so close?" Markiel questioned. "Why would you name me a noble? After all I've caused you to suffer?"
"The curse did cause me pain during my life in Arren," Coulta tried to explain, "but because of that curse I have the life I have now. I have a family and I have love. And you should be honored as a part of my family, because that is what you always have been."
"Oh Coulta, my son," Markiel replied, his voice filled with pain. "I'm so sorry. For everything."
"Don't be." Coulta stepped even closer and bent to draw his father into a one-armed embrace. "Don't ever be."
Coulta spent most of the day with his father. Finally, when he knew it was time for dinner, he returned to his rooms. Along the way he encountered Teeya, who was clearly glad to see him out of bed. He spent a few minutes speaking to her in the passageway, marveling at how happy he was to know her. The servant who had taken charge of his care when he'd come into Lord Varin's court, Teeya had become a sister and a mother to him. Now she was working with the castle seamstresses and tailors, and she seemed happier than ever. And it was because the gods had brought their lives together.
His happiness only grew when he returned to his spouses and wondered at the love he felt for each of them. His affection had grown from friendship for Anil and Myri, and now he could scarcely imagine life without them. And Wildas... There was no doubt their love had always existed somewhere in their linked souls. Given the freedom to express itself, it had only grown into something deep and vital for life itself.
And now his love for the twins, born with the marks of his magic, was growing, too. He might not have created their lives, but he had played a part in who they were, and he would play a part in who they became. He was a father, as wonderful and fearful as that was to him.
"How are you feeling?" Anil asked him as he settled with them for dinner in Wildas's chamber.
Coulta smiled and looked at each of them. "At peace. Finally, at peace."
Bonus Short Story
Coulta had learned years ago, soon after his fight with the necromancer Kemale from Dyrai and his dramatic fall from the sky, that if he didn't want to spend the entire day in terrible pain he needed to stretch his body in the morning. His fatal injuries had been healed by unicorns in thanks for freeing their enslaved herdmates previously and Myri had helped his other injuries to start mending, but he was still left with so many broken bones and bruised muscles that his body never completely returned to what it had been before. But he was alive, so a morning routine of stretches and exercises wasn't the worst thing to deal with.
"Training today?" Wildas asked as he walked into Coulta's chamber. As if it wasn't something Coulta had been doing regularly for the past five years since the former queen Yvona had retired.
"Rohan doesn't need me for the Guard," Coulta explained, not pausing in his stretches. At this point he was used to carrying on full conversations while completing his morning routine. "I thought I would work with the children. Kylar needs more practice."
"How is Kyla doing in her training?" Wildas questioned.
"Perfectly, as usual," Coulta replied with a chuckle. "Rohan will have the greatest possible replacement when he eventually retires."
Wildas waited until Coulta finished the last of his stretches, then stepped close and drew him into a tender kiss. Even after so many years, it still thrilled Coulta to be so close to his soul-partner. It was that connection that had kept their love so strong no matter what obstacles or distances tried to come between then.
"How's Myri?" Coulta asked after they parted.
"Doing well," Wildas answered. "Other than getting restless."
Myri was pregnant with the unexpected eleventh royal child, and her fourth personally. She had struggled to conceive and carry each child to the end of its required time in the womb, unlike Anil. Once the expected number of royal children had been born, Anil had started taking a tea to keep herself from having more. By her seventh and final child she was exhausted and weary of conceiving again. Myri, due to her struggles, hadn't bothered with the teas. She hadn't expressed any displeasure at finding herself pregnant, but it meant months of bedrest. It had been the only way she could keep her pregnancies on schedule, though all her babies were born almost a month early. Thankfully, they had all been mostly healthy.
Coulta calculated the time in his mind. "Three more months. Assuming she gives birth early again."
Wildas nodded. "Then she and I are both taking teas. Just to be certain."
Coulta smiled. "I suppose I'm lucky to be the only one who doesn't need to." His infertility was a fact of his life he had accepted over the years.
"I'm glad you see it that way," Wildas replied with a smile.
Coulta found most of the children milling around the training arena they used to practice. They ranged in ages from the twins at eighteen to the youngest princess, Derica, at five. He could easily pick out Myri's three – Raison, Lia, and Ettrian – because they were a bit skinnier than the others. Myri thought it was the early births but couldn't say for certain. Coulta still treated them like all the others, only varying how hard he trained them based on their ages and personal skills. He had convinced his spouses that no royal child would skip training in combat. Hopefully they stayed at peace for many years to come, but it was still good for them all to know how to defend themselves.
Along with each of them having features of their mothers and father, they all also had a touch of Coulta's magic. He worked with each of them regularly on what their skills were, with help from Shelton, who was still sharing the post of court sorcerer with Coulta. He had gone past the age when most of the court had expected him to retire, though he didn't look as old as he was thanks to the healing the unicorns had given him as well. He'd told Coulta he would step away from the post if Coulta wished him to, but Coulta wasn't planning to do that to his mentor. He knew Shelton would be utterly bored without the work of being a court sorcerer and he was happy for the help as long as he could get it.
Coulta was about to step into the training arena when another boy trotted up to him and bowed. His red hair set him apart from most of those among the capital city of Ryal and Coulta smiled at him.
"Good morning, Siring," Coulta greeted him.
The youth looked up with bright green eyes. "Good morning, Your Highness. I was wondering if I could train as well." His voice carried a very slight Algoman accent.
Coulta continued to smile. "Of course. I'm sure Kylar would prefer you as a sparring partner."
Siring bowed again. "Thank you!" he called as he trotted into the arena to join the prince. Kylar laughed and punched his shoulder playfully.
Coulta followed him into the arena, where he bid good morning to the children he had always viewed as his own, even if they only possessed his magic and not his blood. Then he paired them off to train with each other. Siring made an odd number, so he paired him off with Kylar and nodded to Kyla. She was used to sparring with Coulta, as Siring asked to join them more and more frequently. Her skills were so advanced that they were able to take breaks often for Coulta to watch and advise the others. They were skills that could only have come from her magic, which presented itself in the black vine-like line that twisted from her shoulder to her wrist.
"I'm fairly certain Kylar is in love with Siring," Kyla told him some time later w
hile they watched the two spar, an activity that seemed to involve quite a bit of laughter.
Coulta nodded. "From how often Siring seeks him out, perhaps it is mutual."
"Would they be allowed to marry?" she asked.
"I'm not sure why they wouldn't be," Coulta answered. As he watched, Kylar tripped Siring and held his sword over his throat. Coulta had taught his charges everything he had learned about fighting as a trained assassin a lifetime ago. "Good move, Kylar!" Coulta called to him.
Kylar turned and smiled. While he was distracted, Siring moved to the side of the blade, grabbed Kylar's arm, and hauled him down into the sand with him. That got them both laughing again before they helped each other to their feet and started brushing sand off each other.
"And that was excellent, Siring!" Coulta called to him.
Siring glanced up, then quickly away and stepped back from Kylar.
"Siring is Algoman," Kyla said, returning to their conversation. "He's only here because our strengthened alliance with Algoma means we each have a diplomat in each other's court. He is supposed to take that over from his father."
"Many a royal marriage has been to others from outside Phelin," Coulta reminded her. "It might be a useful way to solidify the alliance. Wildas wouldn't object to it. The issue would be whether or not his father would allow it. Even he can't deny how close they are, but things are surely different in Algoma when it comes to marriage."
"Lord Theodas doesn't seem to object to such pairings. Kylar has mentioned that Siring was told by his father that any woman or man who made him happy would be a good match for him. So it would be a question of politics. But Kylar is afraid Siring doesn't return the feeling Kylar has, or that something is going on with him," Kyla added quietly as they moved on to watch the next pair, Lia and Elyon.
"Why is that?" Coulta asked.
"The aura Kylar always saw around him growing up was pink," she explained. "It grew brighter and brighter as they grew together, but now it's dulling into gray more than it's pink. Gray is the color of deceit. He's hiding something from Kylar and Kylar doesn't know how to confront him."
Coulta knew from raising Kylar that pink was the color that surrounded those closest to the Crown Prince. That was the aura color he saw most among his family, as his childhood declarations had told them. Pink clearly meant love.
"Perhaps Siring is hiding his love," Coulta suggested. "Widen your stance, Lia!" he called to the princess of the pair they were watching. "I suppose time will tell."
And truly, time would tell what would happen for all of the royal children. Coulta hoped everything was positive and wonderful. He knew not everything would be, but he wanted nothing more for his children than for them to have happy lives. And for him to watch them grow into those happy lives.
