The Secret of the Seven Princesses

Epilogue

Less than six months earlier, news of the mystery of the Kyorian princesses had spread through the countryside like wildfire. If possible, the rumor of its resolution spread even faster, followed soon afterwards by the official pronouncement of a royal wedding.

For those who heard of the forthcoming union between Princess Eralie, the eldest princess and heir to the throne of Kyoria, and Sir Typharius Bionne, her father's head steward, many assumed (rightly) that the arrangement had come about as a result of the prince competition. Indeed, the differences in their social positions—while not insurmountable—would have raised questions about the match if dissenters were not convinced that he were being rewarded for saving the princesses. Little did they know how wrong they were.

For if ever a union was based on love, theirs was it.

And of the few who understood and accepted their marriage for what it was, Eralie's father and sisters were among the most excited. Indeed, Gustave gave his hearty assent when Eralie and Ty applied to him for his approval of the union. After the utter debacle of the prince competition and meeting the Prince Tavles and Ambassadors Glyndwrs who had entered (and feeling utterly panicked at the prospect of one of them succeeding to the kingdom), the king had come to recognize the value of having a son-in-law he could both respect and trust. Gustave knew of no other man whose judgment he held in such esteem as his former steward, and found it most desirable to make the man a part of his family.

As for her sisters, Eralie found that few of them were surprised by her engagement. They had long ago surmised her feelings for Ty, and had even suspected his reciprocal sentiments. Unbeknownst to her, their relationship had been the subject of much discussion between the sisters when she wasn't around, and it had even fostered a bet between Petra and Thaleia as to when it would happen. The only princess who seemed even remotely surprised was Eurielle, who had rather chosen to deny the signs of their attraction because she wished to retain her crush on the steward. After an hour's upset, though, the youngest princess had completely recovered from her disappointed puppy love and was perfectly willing to accept her new brother-in-law.

The wedding day dawned rather grey and drizzly, but the weather cleared up adequately before the afternoon ceremony. The princess and her groom invited not only the obligatory royals and nobles, but they also extended an open invitation to their less affluent subjects—an action that greatly endeared them as the future monarchs.

Though the chapel was full to capacity, the ceremony itself was simple and understated. Eralie was attended by all of her sisters, but only Cliodne, as maid of honor, was attended by Weston as best man. The remainder of the princesses—left without escorts due to the shortage of male attendants—trailed down the aisle in order of age from youngest to oldest, each clad in a floor-length gown of cerulean blue and carrying a bouquet of white lilies. Even Thaleia, ever the tomboy, expressed her willingness to embrace her femininity at last and to appear at her best for her older sister's special day.

The crowd shared a collective gasp when the bride herself made her appearance, a picture of elegant simplicity. Her eyes shone with unbridled joy and her smile was incandescent as she clutched her father's arm with emotional excitement. Gustave blinked against the moisture in his eyes as he escorted Eralie down the aisle to meet her groom. On this, her wedding day, she was the picture of her mother, and he was confident that she would be as happy with the man she'd chosen as her parents had been in their own marriage.

As Eralie and her husband pledged themselves to one another for better or for worse, the king felt oddly thankful for the disastrous circumstance that had engendered such happiness. His initial anger and mystification about his daughters' perceived betrayal had disappeared completely now that the danger was over, and especially after he'd recognized the deficiency of his role in the situation. But though the danger was virtually nonexistent with the trapdoor's disappearance, he'd not forgotten his resolve to reform his overprotective treatment of his daughters.