#wildfire-queen

The two kingdoms finally come to an agreement and the alliance commences without a hitch. Thankfully, it is accomplished without any forced marriages on either side. Sylvia and Jasper get married and, though Aurora had not been Jasper’s biggest fan in the beginning, she is still overcome with joy. She continues her duties as a lady-in-waiting for the time being and is rewarded a spot on Syl’s privy council but eventually finds love with a visiting noble. With a heavy heart, Aurora leaves Sylvia’s side for the first time since they were ten years old but the two dear friends knew this day would eventually come.

Aurora enjoys her life immensely and ends up becoming a mother very early into her marriage. Her sons join the royal guard while her daughters are happily taken in as ladies-in-waiting for Sylvia and Jasper’s heirs. She is able to witness her siblings marry for love as well. Aurora visits court often to have tea with her old friend and queen. 

Jasper discovers Elisa’s budding plans to take the throne from Sylvia. Instead of suggesting Syl execute her sister, Jas decides to attempt to use Elisa’s ambition for the whole kingdom’s gain. He suggests all three Vidar sisters stand together and up against Ryhule’s insistence that only way to broker peace is through a marriage. A Ryhulian council member turns on their King and Queen and reveals that Sylvia’s hunch that Ryhule planned to annex Oscana was correct. Using this knowledge, and thanks to Sylvia’s idealism, Elisa’s resolve, and Rosamund’s charm, the sisters are able to draft a treaty that protects both countries from annexation and locks them into a ten year trade alliance. With little choice other than to sign or go to war after their true plan is revealed, Ryhule’s monarchy decides to enter the treaty and rethink their long term strategy to take Oscana. Jasper and Slyvia marry, and the Vidar sisters are seen as the savior princesses who prevented a war and starvation.

“milady?” ayven intones as he strides through the large double doors of one of the meeting rooms off to the side of the throne room, one he knows is occupied by the princess sylvia. he comes the same way a storm might, inevitable, unalterable, the echo of his boots against the floor spreading away from him in a rhythm that matches the steady drum of his heartbeat. he has no intention of a argument or a battle, but expects one nonetheless, the armor of his ribcage holding fast against the undesirable nature of the conversation he’s about to embark on. he doesn’t want to do this, but he keeps those thoughts off his face for now, employing a mask of serenity and cold sobriety. “i was hoping i might speak with you. alone.” he feels he has to necessitate that last bit, since this castle always seems filled to its brim with too many eyes and too many ears and too many pointed teeth. it makes him miss the deathtraps of the desert.