Queen of Fire (A Light-Bringer Prequel)

Twenty-Nine

In the days following the coup, many things had to happen. As much as Marilyn wanted to sleep, her body drained but feeling lighter than ever, she couldn't.

She was the Queen of Lucis.

She had to plan her coronation, Ashlynn's trial and punishment—on top of trying to rebuild a monarchy.

Marilyn had placed Andrei in charge of the watch in the dungeons. She had searched Ashlynn thoroughly, confiscating all of her pins in her braided hair, and any possible weapons, so she couldn't escape.

When she wasn't planning for her coronation, she was at Miles's bedside.

After the iron shackles clamped down on Ashlynn's wrists, all of the Witch-Hunters had collapsed—unconscious. Almost a week later, and a majority of those that survived were up and walking.

"Why don't we go for a walk?" asked Akaljot one day.

Marilyn reluctantly left Miles's side, making sure to close the door behind her.

They walked in silence through the corridors, not knowing what to say to the other.

"How's your abdomen healing up?" she finally asked.

He shrugged. "It's healing up fine," he said. "Olek said it was a soft-tissue injury and that I'd be fine. I just need to keep the wound clean."

"How is he doing?"

Akaljot paused. "Olek is burying himself in work, and I can't say I blame him. He didn't just lose his brother when Volodomyr died. He lost his best friend of two-thousand years—inseparable since birth."

"Now separated by death," she finished. She shoved her hands in the pockets of her pants. "The only thing is that he hasn't shut down." Like Ashlynn did, she didn't add.

Akaljot stopped walking, looking at something on the wall. "Who is this painting of?"

Marilyn looked up at the painting.

It was of a woman around her age, but didn't look anything of this world. She wore a royal blue coat with gold thread and gold clasps. Her skin was sunkissed and her eyes were cobalt blue with flecks of gold. The way the sunlight hit her hair gave her a golden halo as she held a red haired boy close to her, an arm thrown out as if it'll stop the thousands of pounds of rock from crushing them.

"No one knows who she is or where she is from," she replied. "Some call her a ghost. Others call her a goddess. As for my father, he called her his guardian angel."

They continued walking until Marilyn asked, "Will he ever wake up?"

Akaljot scratched the back of his neck. "He will, but you have to remember that he was under a lot of Ashlynn's influence. I highly doubt that it was even him talking near the end."

—

Miles opened his eyes days, weeks, or months later. He felt relieved once he realised that his body was his. He looked to his right, expecting Elain, but saw Marilyn instead.

"Am I dead?" he asked, his voice raw.

She closed the book she was reading. "Thank the gods no."

"How long have I been out?"

"About a week."

His eyes trailed up to the new scar on her temple. Guilt settled in the pit of his stomach.

"It's okay," she told him. "Scars will heal."

"It was so horrible," he sobbed. "I tried to fight her—I tried so hard—but she was too strong, and I couldn't do anything to stop..." He paused, a horrifying realisation hitting him. "Elain. Where is Elain? Is she alright? What about our son—"

Miles tried to scramble out of bed, but Marilyn pushed him back down.

"She's okay, Miles," Marilyn said calmly. "Both Elain and Matias are fine. Elain just has some bruising, but that's it."

Marilyn got up and strode to the other end of the room. Miles took the opportunity to sit up. Marilyn came back with a pile of clothes in her hands.

Marilyn set them down at the foot of the bed. "I'll give you some privacy to change out of those clothes. I'll be outside."

—
Marilyn hated seeing him in those clothes. If he had hated them, she couldn't blame him.

The only thing worse was the haunted tortured look in his eyes.

The door opened and then closed as Miles stepped out.

He looked every bit like the royal guard she remembered.

She led him to her study, but took their time getting there.

"Did you seriously have blonde hair for five years?" Miles asked at one point.

"Yes, and Prince Andrei won't stop teasing me about it," she replied. "Akaljot was the first one, you were second to see my blondness, and His Highness only saw the tips."

"Damn. And here I was hoping to be the first one," he said light-heartedly. "Do you miss that... lifestyle? Or no?"

"To an extent. I miss the freedom and the anonymity of it all. But other than that, I don't miss it."

They came up to a set of doors, and Marilyn pushed them open. They entered the study where Elain and Matias Gomez waited.

"Miles?" Elain rasped, her eyes widening at the sight of her husband.

"Elain." Miles ran forward and swept his wife up in his arms.

Marilyn sat down behind her walnut desk and watched their reunion. They finally broke apart and sat down on the chairs across from her.

Miles picked up Matias, setting the boy on his lap.

"You wanted to see us, Your Majesty?" Elain asked.

"Please, call me Marilyn. I have an offer for you both."

"What is the offer?" asked Miles as Matias blew a raspberry.

"I would like to make Elain my Lady-in-Waiting." She turned to Miles. "And I would like to make you, Miles, my Right Hand."

Marilyn let her offer sink in.

"You want me... to be your Hand?" Miles asked, ennunciating each word slowly. "Even after all I've done?"

"That wasn't you," Elain said reassuringly.

"You're my best friend, Miles," said Marilyn. "I trust you, and would be honoured to have my friend as my Right Hand."

Miles looked at Elain, and then at Marilyn. "The honour would be ours."

Marilyn smiled. "Excellent."

Miles looked at Elain and took her hand. "I've been a terrible husband to you, Elain. I want to make it up to you, and renew our vows."

Elain teared up a little. "Of course. I would love to renew our vows."

"After the coronation tomorrow, I can preside with Akaljot and Prince Andrei standing as witnesses," Marilyn offered.

"I think we'd like that," said Miles.