CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Homeward
The morning of their departure dawned clear and bright, the summer sun already warm on the stones of Kingshold.
Orion stood at the window of the chambers that had been theirs for over a year, watching the city wake. Merchants opening their stalls. Children running through the streets. Life continuing as it always had, as it always would, regardless of kings and queens and runaway princes.
"Having second thoughts?" Nera asked from behind him.
"No." He turned to face her. She was dressed for travel, practical clothing that bore no trace of royal finery. Her green hair was braided back, and her eyes held that quiet certainty he'd come to love. "Just... remembering. This place was my prison once. Then it became something else."
"What is it now?"
"A place I can leave without regret. A place I can return to without fear." He crossed to her, taking her hands. "That's more than I ever expected."
"Healing does that. Changes how we see the past."
"You're very wise."
"I'm very old." She smiled. "Sometimes they're the same thing."
He laughed and pulled her close, holding her for a long moment in the morning light.
"Ready?" she asked.
"Ready."
* * *
The farewells began in the Queen's Garden.
Nera had insisted on visiting one last time, and Orion understood why. She had poured herself into this place—her magic, her love, her essence. The garden that had been dying when they arrived was now more alive than it had been even in Queen Margret's time. Flowers bloomed in impossible colors. The fountain sang with crystal clarity. Even the air seemed sweeter, charged with a vitality that had no natural explanation.
"I've left instructions with the gardeners," Nera said, kneeling beside a bed of roses that glowed faintly in the early light. "They won't understand why it works, but if they follow what I've written, the garden will stay healthy."
"And if they don't?"
"Then I'll come back and fix it." She touched a bloom gently, and it seemed to lean into her hand. "This place matters. What Margret built, what your father preserved, what I've restored—it matters."
"Because of the magic?"
"Because of the love." She stood, brushing soil from her hands. "Magic is just love made visible. This garden is proof that love outlasts death, outlasts grief, outlasts everything that tries to diminish it."
Orion looked around at the impossible beauty surrounding them—this space that had been his mother's sanctuary, his father's memorial, and now Nera's gift to the family she'd joined.
"Thank you," he said. "For this. For all of it."
"Thank me by coming back to visit."
"I will. I promise."
They left the garden together, the gate closing softly behind them. The flowers seemed to wave in a breeze that touched nothing else.
* * *
Darius found them in the courtyard, already in his military dress, looking as though he'd been awake for hours.
"Leaving without saying goodbye?" he asked.
"We were going to find you."
"I know. I just wanted to catch you first." He stood before them, awkward in the way of soldiers unused to emotional moments. "I'm not good at this. Farewells."
"Neither am I," Orion admitted.
"Then let's keep it simple." Darius extended his hand. "You're a better fighter than I expected. A better man than I remembered. And you're always welcome on my borders, if you ever want to hit something that isn't a training dummy."
Orion clasped his hand. "I might take you up on that."
"I hope you do." Darius's grip tightened briefly. "I meant what I said before. We can learn from each other. The offer stands, whenever you want to take it."
"And you? What will you do?"
"Same thing I've always done. Defend the kingdom. Protect the borders." A ghost of a smile. "Keep Helena and Marcus from killing each other when they disagree with Elara's decisions."
"That sounds like a full-time job."
"It will be. But someone has to do it." He released Orion's hand and turned to Nera. For a moment, he seemed uncertain how to address her—this woman he now knew was so much more than she appeared.
Then he bowed. A formal, military bow, the kind given to visiting royalty.
"Your Majesty," he said quietly. "It's been an honor."
Nera's eyes widened slightly. "Elara told you."
"Father did. Before he passed. He wanted us all to know—to understand what we were protecting." Darius straightened. "Your secret is safe with me. With all of us."
"Thank you, Darius."
"Thank you. For making my brother happy. For giving my father peace at the end." He stepped back, returning to his usual gruff demeanor. "Now go, before I say something embarrassing."
"Too late," Orion said.
"Shut up."
But Darius was smiling as he walked away—a real smile, rare and genuine.
* * *
Helena intercepted them near the stables, emerging from the shadows with her characteristic precision.
"You weren't going to leave without speaking to me," she said. It wasn't a question.
"Of course not."
"Good. Because I have something for you." She produced a sealed letter from her sleeve. "Contacts. In every major city between here and Thornhaven. Merchants, guild leaders, minor nobles who owe me favors. If you ever need anything—information, resources, assistance—show them this seal and they'll help."
Orion took the letter, surprised. "Helena, I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything. Just use it if you need it." She folded her arms. "You're family. Despite everything, despite my own ambitions, you're family. And family takes care of each other."
"That's very... un-Helena of you."
"Don't get used to it." But there was warmth beneath the sharpness. "I'm still going to be impossible. I'm still going to scheme and calculate and pursue power. But I'll do it in service of Elara now, not against her."
"That's all anyone can ask."
"Is it? I'm not sure. But it's what I can give." She turned to Nera, her calculating gaze softening slightly. "I figured it out, you know. Before Father told us. The garden, the way you move, the things you know that no human should know. I had theories."
"And now that you know the truth?"
"Now I'm grateful my theories were too small." Helena's smile was genuine—perhaps the first truly genuine smile Orion had ever seen from her. "A fairy queen. My brother married a fairy queen. It's the most ridiculous, wonderful thing I've ever heard."
"That seems to be the consensus."
"Take care of him. He's an idiot sometimes, but he's our idiot."
"I will."
Helena nodded once, then turned and walked away without another word. It was, Orion realized, exactly the farewell he should have expected from her—efficient, meaningful, and utterly devoid of unnecessary sentiment.
He wouldn't have it any other way.
* * *
Marcus was waiting by the horses.
He'd seen to their supplies personally—Orion could tell by the precise way everything was arranged, the military efficiency of the packing. It was such a Marcus thing to do: express care through action rather than words.
"Everything's ready," Marcus said as they approached. "Provisions for two weeks. Letters of passage bearing the Queen's seal. A pouch of coin that you probably don't need but should have anyway."
"Marcus—"
"Don't." He held up a hand. "If you thank me, I'll be forced to say something gracious in return, and I've exhausted my capacity for grace this week."
"Then I'll just say: you're a good brother."
"I'm a terrible brother. I've been angry at you for ten years."
"And now?"
"Now I'm..." Marcus searched for the word. "Tired. Tired of being angry. Tired of competing. Tired of pretending I don't miss you when you're gone."
"You could come visit."
"Maybe I will. Once things settle down here." He ran a hand through his hair—a gesture so like Orion's own that it was startling. "Elara's going to need help. Real help, not political maneuvering. Father was right about me—I've been so focused on preparing to rule that I forgot how to be human."
"You're human right now."
"Am I?" Marcus's laugh was bitter. "I don't know anymore. But I'm trying to remember."
"That's all any of us can do."
They stood facing each other—two brothers who had been adversaries and were now something closer to allies. The distance between them wasn't gone, but it had narrowed. That was enough. That was more than enough.
"I know about her," Marcus said quietly. "About Nera. Father told me before he died."
"I assumed he would."
"A fairy queen." Marcus shook his head. "You always did have to be different."
"I didn't plan it."
"No. You never planned anything. You just... followed your heart, wherever it led." He met Orion's eyes. "I spent years resenting you for that. Now I think I envy it."
"You could learn."
"Maybe. Probably too late for me—I'm too set in my ways. But watching you, watching Elara..." He paused. "Maybe the next generation will do better. If we can teach them what we've learned."
"You're thinking about heirs already?"
"I'm thinking about the future. It's what I do." Marcus extended his hand. "Safe travels, brother. Write when you can. And don't be a stranger."
Orion took his hand—then pulled him into a hug. Marcus stiffened, startled, then slowly relaxed into it.
"Thank you," Orion said. "For being here. For trying. For being better than you think you are."
"Don't make me regret this."
"Too late."
They separated, both pretending not to notice the moisture in the other's eyes.
* * *
The Queen came to see them off personally.
Elara stood at the palace gates, wearing the crown that still seemed too large for her head, surrounded by guards who tried very hard to look as though they weren't watching this private moment with intense curiosity.
"The whole city will be talking," she said. "The new queen, seeing off her exiled brother with tears in her eyes."
"Are there tears?"
"There will be. I'm just delaying them." She smiled, but it wavered at the edges. "I'm not ready for you to go."
"You'll be fine."
"Everyone keeps saying that."
"Because it's true." Orion stepped forward, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "You're stronger than you know, Elara. Stronger than any of us. Father saw it. I see it. And soon, everyone else will too."
"What if they don't?"
"Then you keep going anyway. That's what ruling is—making decisions when no one agrees with you, standing firm when everyone doubts you, believing in yourself when no one else does." He touched her face gently. "But you won't be alone. You have Marcus and Helena and Darius. You have advisors and allies and a kingdom that wants to love you."
"And you?"
"I'll be a letter away. Always." He stepped back. "And I expect regular updates. How you're doing, what you're learning, who's being impossible this week—"
"That would be a very long list."
"Good. I like long letters."
Elara laughed—a real laugh, bright and young and full of life. For a moment, she wasn't a queen burdened with responsibility. She was just a sister, saying goodbye to a brother she loved.
"Go," she said. "Before I do something un-queenly like cry in public."
"Too late," Nera said gently. "Your eyes are already red."
"Traitor." But Elara was smiling as she said it. She turned to Nera, her expression growing serious. "Take care of him."
"I will."
"And take care of yourself. I know what you are now—what you gave up, what you left behind. I know what it cost you." The young queen's voice was soft but steady. "If you ever need sanctuary, if the things you ran from ever find you, you have a home here. Both of you. Always."
Nera's eyes glistened. "Thank you, Elara. That means more than you know."
"I think I do know. That's why I'm saying it." She pulled Nera into a fierce hug—protocol be damned—and held on for a long moment. "Sister," she whispered. "Come back soon."
"I will."
They mounted their horses. The gates opened. The road stretched before them, winding down through the city and out into the world beyond.
Orion looked back once. Elara stood at the gates, small and young and crowned, her siblings gathering behind her in a show of support that would be reported throughout the kingdom before nightfall.
She raised her hand in farewell.
He raised his in return.
Then they rode forward, and the palace disappeared behind them.
* * *
They made camp that night in a meadow outside the city, far enough to feel the freedom of the open road, close enough that the lights of Kingshold still glittered on the horizon.
"How do you feel?" Nera asked as they sat by the fire.
"Strange," Orion admitted. "When we came here, I was dreading every moment. I expected anger, rejection, a family that had moved on without me."
"And instead?"
"Instead I found... healing. Forgiveness. A father who loved me despite everything. Siblings who are complicated and difficult and somehow exactly what they should be." He stared into the flames. "I found peace. I didn't think that was possible."
"It's always possible. Just not always easy."
"No. Not easy at all." He turned to her, this woman who had been with him through everything—this fairy queen who had left her own throne, who had given his father one last wonder, who had made his mother's garden bloom again. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For coming with me. For staying human for almost two years so my family could know you. For showing my father who you really are." His voice thickened. "For being here. For being you."
"Where else would I be?"
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only answer that matters." She moved closer, leaning against him. "Home isn't a place, Orion. It's a person. Wherever you are, that's where I belong."
"Even Thornhaven?"
"Especially Thornhaven. Our house is there. Our friends are there. Our life is there." She smiled. "And I've been in this human form so long, I'm actually looking forward to stretching my wings."
"You could do that now. No one's watching."
"Maybe I will."
She stood, moving away from the fire into the moonlit meadow. For a moment, she was just a woman standing in silver light.
Then she glowed.
The transformation was beautiful to watch—always was, always would be. Her form shimmered, shrank, reshaped itself into something smaller and brighter. Wings unfurled, catching the moonlight like stained glass. Her green hair floated free, no longer bound by mortal gravity.
Nera—true Nera, fairy Nera—hovered before him, her light soft and warm in the darkness.
"Better?" Orion asked.
"Much." Her voice was the same, though it came from a form no larger than his hand. "I love being human with you. But this is who I am."
"I know. And I love both."
She flew to him, landing on his shoulder, her light casting gentle patterns across his face.
"Home," she said. "Let's go home."
"It's a long journey."
"Good. We have a lot to talk about." She nestled against his neck, warm and bright and impossibly wonderful. "And when we get there, we have a life to continue. Friends to see. Adventures to have."
"A wedding to attend."
"Vex and Denna. I'd almost forgotten." Her wings flickered with amusement. "We should get them a gift."
"What do you get for a wedding gift?"
"I have no idea. Fairies don't do weddings the way humans do." She paused. "But I'm sure we'll figure it out."
"We usually do."
"We usually do."
They sat together by the fire—a man and a fairy, a prince and a queen, two runaways who had found each other and built something that neither had expected.
Behind them, the lights of Kingshold glittered in the distance—a palace where a young queen was learning to rule, where three siblings were learning to support rather than compete, where the memory of a wise old king would guide them all for years to come.
Ahead of them, the road stretched north—toward Thornhaven, toward home, toward whatever adventures awaited.
And above them, the stars burned bright and clear, the same stars that had watched over them since the beginning.
The journey continued.
It always did.
— End of Chapter Thirty-Four —
~
END OF THE NOBLE REUNION ARC