Page 127 of Consort's Glory
Epilogue
June 2045 - The Goodeland, Coven Collective
“It’s a little small.”
Theodore set their luggage down by the door. Turning to wrinkle his nose at the low-hanging light he had to step around to get into the cabin, he muttered, “Who builds houses this small?”
“Not everyone is elvish,” Margot reminded him from the tiny kitchen, where she was gleefully unwrapping container after container of homemade treats left for them by the Coven.
“I’m not asking everyone to be elvish.” Theodore closed the front door with his foot before striding down the narrow hall to find his wife. He leaned against the door jamb — something that was necessary, because he couldn’t actually stand up straight beneath it without slamming his head into the wood. “I’m simply asking people to make reasonably-sized homes.”
“Hush.” Margot propped her hip against a steel-basin sink and took a bite out of what he had been informed by her great aunt was “an extra gooey brownie with double the nuts”. Personally, he thought it sounded revolting, but he couldn’t deny his consort her pleasures.
And they were pleasures, going by the look of bliss on her face when she savored another bite.
Theodore shifted his weight, his blood rushing south as he watched the familiar look of rapture cross his consort’s face. She usually only looked like that when he had his head between her legs, or, most recently, when he bent her over the bathroom sink and watched her reflection in the mirror as he fucked her until she let out a cry that still rang in his ears.
Was that only three and a half hours ago? Theodore watched her hungrily. Feels like a lifetime.
But then again, that made a certain amount of sense. It only took an hour to get to the Goodeland via jet, but the chilly meeting with Sophie and then the hours of introductions to Margot’s kaleidoscope of family members might as well have been an eternity.
Kaz had come along as moral support and security detail, but he hadn’t fared any better than Theodore. The Goode Coven was warm, welcoming, but voraciously curious about their new member and viciously protective of Margot. They wanted to know everything about the two interlopers in their midst, and it felt like every member of the Coven was prepared to interrogate them individually.
It was a relief to finally be shown the way to their cabin — a secluded one bedroom home well away from the main cluster of homes around the crystalline lake. Margot had specifically requested that they stay in the cabin she was born in rather than her grandmother’s home, which was Sophie and Tula’s firm desire, and for that, Theodore was deeply grateful.
He liked Tula. She was warm, her love an open, generous thing, and when Margot hugged her Noni, there was no doubting how much relief she felt to be home. That didn’t mean he wanted to sleep under the same roof as her, though.
Though they were warm, and though he tried his best to be reasonable for his wife’s sake, it was all Theodore could do to stomach the sight of the elder Goodes, who so profoundly harmed his consort for so very long. It didn’t matter that their intentions were noble. It didn’t even matter that, in their place, he might have done the same. He wanted to track down every last one of the people who knew her secret and make their last living moments on Burden’s Earth as miserable as possible.
He didn’t and he wouldn’t. Margot wasn’t ready to face the justice she was owed. Until she was, he could grin and bear whatever she needed him to.
The day she gave the word, though, he would let his rage loose on the whole damn lot of them.
Margot drifted over to him. Dressed in loose pants and a soft, baby blue blouse, she had the air of a woman who was entirely comfortable in her skin. Happiness flowed through their bond unchecked.
“Where do you think Kaz has gone?” she asked, slipping her arms around Theodore’s waist. She leaned her weight onto him with easy familiarity.
“He was probably kidnapped by one of your aunts.” Theodore cupped the sides of her head with his ungloved hands. Gently guiding her head back, he pressed a series of lingering kisses to her lips, each one a promise for more and payment for those that couldn’t be exchanged in polite company.
Margot stroked her hands up his back, tracing her favorite path down the muscles bracketing his spine. “I tried to warn him,” she sighed. “I said, If you’re not prepared to end up bonded to a Goode cousin, don’t go. Remember? I even said we should bring Laurence instead.”
“Do you think Laurence would be less likely to end up married?”
“Not even a little.” Margot grinned impishly up at him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling. “But the difference is that Laurence would love it. Kaz looks like he’s going to be ill every time someone hits on him.”
Theodore snorted. “He’s shy.”
That didn’t mean she was totally wrong, though. Laurence would have loved all the attention. A quiet, serious halfling, he was as deadly as they came and intensely interested in his newfound freedom to seek out his own consort, no matter her race. No doubt that interest was spurred on by the sudden flurry of bindings and marriages that flowed into the Protectorate on the heels of their declaration.
Barely three months had passed since he and Margot went public with their marriage and every day more announcements came across his desk — the dissolution of unions, the formal recognition of bindings, petitions to have halflings legally allowed to inherit family seats and property, and, most importantly, the proud announcements of pregnancies.
His people, once freed from their self-imposed restrictions, were charging full speed into the future.
“No, he’s just awkward.” Margot rested her cheek against his chest. “Maybe he’ll meet someone even more awkward and fall in love.”
Theodore shrugged. He had hope that Kaz would meet his match. Perhaps not in the Coven, but elsewhere. He needed someone who would smooth his rough edges, but who would understand the vicious need to protect that made Kaz who he was. Whoever it was that his brother finally clicked with, Theodore wished them all the luck in the world. They’d need it.
“Speaking of love…” Margot propped her chin on his chest to look up at him. “Any word from Cammie?”
