The Queen

Epilogue

The golden light of late afternoon bathed the royal gardens in warmth, casting long, soft shadows across the stone paths and blooming flower beds. Birds chirped in the nearby trees, and the scent of roses and citrus blossoms filled the air. Laughter echoed through the courtyard, bright and carefree.
Samira sat beneath a grand olive tree, its gnarled branches spreading wide, offering shade from the sun. Her hand rested gently on her rounded belly, the child within her shifting softly. Her eyes, bright with peace, followed the playful figures of her sons running across the grass.
Rowan, now four, tall for his age and already bearing the sharpness of his father's eyes, darted after a butterfly, calling out to his younger brother.
"Edward, come! It's by the fountain!"
Edward, two years old, chubby-cheeked and full of energy, chased after him with a determined waddle, giggling. He stumbled once, and Rowan immediately stopped, turning back to help him up with a gentle touch and a protective arm.
"Careful," Rowan whispered to him, in a tone far too serious for his age. "I'm here."
From the marble terrace above, Philip descended the steps with the grace of a king and the ease of a man who had weathered war and darkness and found his light again. He walked toward Samira, pausing only to smile at their boys before sitting beside her in the grass.
He kissed her temple and laid a hand gently over hers, over the swell of her belly. "I hope this one is a little princess," he said, his voice warm, teasing. "Smart, beautiful, and witty just like her mother."
Samira laughed softly, leaning into him. "She'll rule us all, if she is."
"I wouldn't mind," he said, his hand staying on her belly. "You've always ruled me."
They sat in silence for a moment, watching their sons play. The sight filled them with quiet awe. After everything the betrayals, the heartbreak, the danger they were here. Alive. Whole.
Philip's eyes followed Rowan. "He'll be king one day. Of Espacia. I see it already in the way he watches over Edward. He's going to be a just ruler, a strong one."
"And Edward," Samira added, "will lead Khalon with a lion's heart. My family's kingdom will rise again, and it will be safe in his hands."
Philip looked at her with deep pride. "We've given them the future we never had."
Samira nodded, emotion swelling in her throat. "Yes. Peace. Love. Purpose."
She turned to face him. "Do you ever think about how far we've come?"
"All the time," he murmured. "I think of that night in the woods. When I thought we might never return. When you saved me again and again."
"And you gave me a home," she whispered, her hand finding his.
Philip leaned down and kissed her slowly, as if sealing the moment forever.
Their sons' laughter rang out again, rising like music into the golden sky.
As the sun dipped lower, casting amber hues across the gardens, Samira winced softly and shifted her weight. The baby stirred again, and her back ached from the long day. With a sigh, she turned to Philip.
"Would you mind watching them for a while?" she asked, placing a gentle hand on her belly. "I need to lie down for a bit."
Philip grinned, his eyes warm. "Of course. It would be an honor, my queen."
She smiled, kissed his cheek.
The cool stone floors greeted her feet, a welcome contrast to the heat of the gardens. She walked slowly through the corridor, one hand resting on her belly, the other grazing the soft fabric of her gown. The palace was quieter than usual, the air thick with the sleepy hum of early evening.
As she approached the western hall, near the gallery, faint voices drifted to her ears. She slowed her steps, curiosity flickering in her chest.
Two ladies-in-waiting, finely dressed and oblivious to her presence, whispered behind a column.
"...I'm only saying what others won't say aloud. That boy, Rowan... he's cursed," one hissed. "Born of that madwoman. You remember what they said, Alice consorted with the witch. Something unholy passed into him."
"And the queen Queen Samira, they say she's blinded by love. Pretending he's her own when all of Espacia knows where he truly came from."
Samira's heart froze, her hand tightening instinctively around her belly.
Another woman murmured, "It's a shame. The child seems kind, but if the blood is poisoned..."
That was enough.
Samira stepped forward, her footsteps echoing like thunder.
Both women froze when they saw her. Their faces drained of color.
"I'm sorry Your Majesty we didn't..."
"You didn't what?" Samira's voice was low, dangerous. "Didn't think I would hear you spreading venom like rats?"
She took a step closer. Her eyes were ablaze not just with fury, but with something primal. Fierce. Maternal.
"You speak of Rowan, my son as if he were a stain upon this realm, as if his love, his laughter, his bravery could be cursed." Her voice trembled with emotion, but not weakness. "You speak of a child who has endured whispers, stares, and hatred before he has even understood the world he will one day rule."
The women lowered their heads, silent.
Samira's breath grew heavier, her tone sharper. "He is no curse. He is the future of Espacia. And I will burn this palace to the ground before I let anyone... anyone plant poison in his path."
The women gasped, shrinking back.
She stepped in close, her belly brushing against the silk of their skirts. "He is mine. And if you speak of him again if I hear so much as a breath of this filth, I will see to it that the only place you whisper is behind cold stone walls."
Neither of them dared reply.
Samira turned, her head high, her stride unshaken, fury still smoldering in her chest. She did not stop until she reached her chambers.
Only when the doors closed behind her did she rest her hand again on her belly, whispering a vow not just to the child within her, but to all her children:
No one will touch them. No one will tarnish them. No matter whose blood runs in their veins, they are mine. And I will protect them, even from the shadows of the past.
Outside the window, thunder rumbled in the far-off hills. The storm had not yet come, but it would.

And in its wake, a new story would begin.

Author's Note

Dear readers,

Thank you from the depths of my heart for joining me on this emotional, passionate, and often tumultuous journey through Philip and Samira's story. As we close this chapter, a new one begins.

The next book in this series will follow Rowan, the boy born of scandal and raised with love. His story is darker, more complex, and filled with the echoes of a legacy he never asked for. There will be secrets, curses, forbidden love, and a destiny he cannot escape.

I can't wait to share his story with you.
And I will not make you wait, first chapter goes life tomorrow. The introduction below. I hope you'll read it and love it was much as I enjoy writing it.

With all my love and gratitude,

MaryRose
***

The Cursed One

Introduction

They said his mother was cursed.

She was beautiful, ambitious, and mad with power—driven to the edge of a tower by love, jealousy, and a witch's spell. The night she nearly took her son with her, Queen Samira saved the child and raised him as her own. That child is now King Rowan.
He was forged in fire and loss. Raised by love, shaped by rumors, and hardened by the crown. The kingdom sees a ruthless ruler, a dangerous man who fears nothing—except the freedom from the curse that stole his mother's mind.
When his beloved wife, Queen Helena, falls ill without reason, the old whispers return: the witches are not done with him. And this time, Rowan will not let magic take what he loves.
So when a mysterious young healer is captured—a girl with haunting eyes, Rowan makes a choice that will change everything.
She is his prisoner.
She is his last hope.
And she might be the only woman who can break the curse...
or become it.