Heir of Golden Storms

“King? What happened with Queen Willow?” I ask.

“She died,” Thalia says. I do not feel grief nor regret in her voice.

“What? When? How?” I ask.

“Your father or Zephyrus sent someone to do it right after the wedding,” Thalia says. “It happened during the time that you cursed Zephyrus. Someone stabbed her on her back through all the chaos and disappeared through the crowd, even though you warned me and North.”

“I am sorry,” I say as I slip my hand under hers. She squeezes me. These past two weeks must have been the worst for her. “What happened to North?”

“Right after mother’s death and your arrest, I sent a carriage to take her to the Court of Winter, back to her home,” Thalia says. She turns to look at me, eyes watering. “I tried my best, Rowan, I did. I try to put some sense on your father to free you. Eventually, he sent me back to the Court of Storms. I reunited with the council of the Court of Storms. We tried to negotiate for you, but it did not work. In the end, we were planning on sneaking in to get you, but that is when we received the letter of Marin.” She sniffs and a tear escapes her eye.

“My mother died, Rowan. A court fell on my shoulders. My husband and future king of the Court of Storms was held in a cell in the Court of Miracles. I did not know what to do. It was too much for me. I am sixteen years old! I should not be preoccupied about this kind of things!”

“I know,” I say as I pull her towards me. She puts a head on my shoulder as I caress her dark purple, almost black, hair. Her tears fall on my shoulder. “But you do not have to do that all alone anymore. I will help you. I will not be king, but I will be with you every step of the way.”

“What?” she exclaims as she moves her head from me. She wipes her tears with the back of her hand. “You are not going to be king?”

“No,” I tell her. “That court belongs to you. I cannot become a king and even rule over you. I just cannot do it.” Kings are superior than queens in this land. Queens cannot ask knights anything or make decisions without the approval of the king.

“Let’s change that,” she says. “Let’s become the first court to have a king and a queen that are equal. Please, I beg you.” She grabs my hands.

“First thing about being queen,” I say as I pull a hand away from her and clean one tear in her cheeks with my thumb. “You do not beg to anyone. Not even to me.” I sigh. “I will be king as long as you will be queen. If you step down, I will step down with you, and if you want me gone, I will leave my position and disappear from your life.”

“I do not think that I will ask you to leave the Court of Storms,” she says.

“That is what you say now,” I say and smile, my flirty smile that makes every woman want me. “But after spending the future nights in my bed, you will be sure that you will not want me gone.”

She lets go off my arm and pushes me while smiling. “Arrogant.” She then turns to her window, and I know that she is hiding her blush. I turn to mine, but then she says, “I missed you.”

I am surprised when I believe it enough to say, “Me too.”

As we descend, I gaze at the window. The sky is dark due to gray clouds covering it, but no sounds come from it. Only a few sunrays penetrate the clouds to shine the castle, making it seem as if we were at dusk instead of morning. Mountains are below us with nothing but rocks on them. In one of them stands a gray castle, almost the size of the Miracle Castle. The Storm Castle extends itself, connecting to other mountains, even entering between them. When we land on one of the Mountains of Endless Night, I walk out.

“Welcome home, Rowan,” Thalia says.

I cannot believe what I am seeing. Waterfalls, which I do not know if they are artificial or not, fall from within some mountains. Some wings of the castle past behind them and appear at the other side of the waterfall. The Miracle Castle extended in height more than its width, but the Storm Castle is the opposite.

We are at a path made of artificial stone. I gaze beside the path to see that we are high enough to only see clouds below us. Inclined steps lead to the entrance of the castle. Thalia starts walking and I follow.

“The Storm Castle only has floors below in a few wings that goes directly through the mountains,” Thalia says. Then she takes a step on the stairway and a thunder comes from the dark clouds above. “The castle knows that I have arrived. It will do the same once you are crowned.”

We walk to the top, where the entrance is. A wooden door, that opens through the middle, is closed but as soon as the knights see Thalia, some open it while the others bow. Thalia waves at the knights or nod at them with a smile, thing that father never did. She must have learned it from her mother or father.

As soon as we enter, I am amazed at how is decorated. The hallway has lamps with flames of different colors. The rug that is on the floor is not red, the color that is usually is in most castles. It is a purple, lavender to be precise. The walls are the same gray color of the walls outside. At the end of the hallway, there is a room. The room has a chandelier in the middle with candles lighted by different colored flames. There is no furniture in here. There are hallways to the left and right and a huge door, smaller than the main entrance, in front.

The rug that lead us to the room expands, covering this room. In the middle of the carpet, a raven is drawn. That is the emblem of the Court of Storms. Thalia points at the door in front of us.

“That is the door that leads to the throne room,” she says. “I am going to ask for a duplicate of the throne for us to sit together.”

She takes a left and we go through the hallway. The hallway does not have windows. Instead, it is opened as if it were a balcony that connects a room with another. I can see the other mountains from here. I can even hear the waterfalls.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“To see the Storm Council,” she says.

Every court has a council composed of every trusted member of the court. It is composed usually by the best strategist, smith, knight, prophet, magical expert, and the king. I never met the Miracle Council. I knew that father was part of it and Zephyrus represented the best knight in it. It was rare whenever father summoned the council. He mostly made every decision with Zephyrus.

As we get into the next room, I do not have time to analyze it. What I see is that there is another hallway at the right and doors in other parts. A spiral stairway is in front of us that goes down, and that is when I know that we are inside a mountain. She leads me towards the stairways down and then to a closed hallway on the left. She opens the door at the end of the hallway.

“I am back,” Thalia announces as she enters.

An oval table is horizontally in the middle of the windowless room. A few torches are lighted up at the walls. Five faeries sit around it, each one wearing dark purple clothes. There are two empty wooden chairs, bigger and more elegant than the chairs of the other faeries. Thalia walks around and sits on one of the chairs. She gestures me to sit on the other at her left.

“Everyone, I would like you to meet my husband and future king of the Court of Storms, Rowan,” Thalia says.

“He is young,” a woman says, seated at the farthest on the left. She has blonde hair and a long chin. Even though she looks to be a decade or two older than me, her golden eyes behind her round glasses show pain that only can be obtain by experience. “I expected him to be much older.” She turns to look at me. “I am Sephira, the magical expert of the Court of Storms.”

“He is a year older than me,” Thalia says. “That does not mean that he is inexperienced. He led the sky battalion when the Court of Autumn attacked the Court of Miracles and was the one to make peace with that court too.”

“Ah, I heard about that,” a man says. He is seated to Thalia’s right. He has raven hair, just like mines. His black eyes do not show empathy as he tries to analyze me. His ears seem longer than any other faerie’s. “You almost lost the war.” He sounds hostile.

“But I did not,” I say. “I am guessing that you are the strategist, are you not? I bet that you would not have lasted a minute up in the sky against those forces.” I have learned not to show weakness to anyone who is trying to bring me down, even if I am the new guy.

“He is right, Oren,” the man at my left answers. He extends a hand towards me. “I am Sir Fafner, the knight.” I shake his hands.

Sir Fafner is bigger than all of us. He has a big nose and a bigger smile. He has black hair and round green eyes. He could be part ogre, but faeries cannot reproduce with other creatures.

“Tell me, if you are good at the sky, how good are you on earth?” Fafner asks.

“Horrible,” is all I say.

“Then we will work on that,” he says as he winks.

“Anyway,” Thalia says, “the coronation is in a few hours and we are going to do something different. We are going to rule as equals.”

“My princess, if I may speak,” the farthest faerie from the right says. He is thin and tall, but not as Fafner. He has long brown hair and blue eyes. He does not wait for an answer from Thalia. “I do not think that it is a good idea to rise a prince from the Court of Miracles to rule the Court of Storms.”

“Why is that?” Thalia asks.

“He is Master Nidd, the prophet,” Sir Fafner whispers at me. I nod in gratitude.

“I am about to be sincere. May I proceed?” Master Nidd says and Thalia nods. “When you two will reproduce, the heir to the throne will be a miracle granter. It will not be able to create storms, like the previous rulers. That would be chaos since the Court of Storms is supposed to be ruled by a storm maker.” They do not know that I cannot perform miracles or that I am not father’s biological son.

“I am afraid that I am with Master Nidd in this one,” Sephira says.

“Who else is with Master Nidd?” Thalia asks. Everyone rise their hands, including the small woman with blonde short hair, who must be the smith.

“If that is all that is stopping you from choosing Rowan to be the king, then I have a solution,” Thalia says. “When the time comes, I will reproduce with someone noble from this court.” This takes me by surprised. I did not expect her to suggest this.

“But are you going to sell yourself like that?” the smith says. She turns to me. “I am Elvia, the smith, Your Highness.”

“If it is the correct thing, then I will,” Thalia says.

“What if the first born is a woman?” Oren asks.

“Then she will inherit the throne, regardless if we have a male heir,” I answer. Thalia nods.

“Let’s hope it does not happen, but what if something happens to you, my princess, and you do not have an heir?” Elvia asks. “That will leave Rowan as king alone, and his heirs will continue the line.”

“Then I will step down and Princess Kalani will rule,” I say. Thalia’s sister, Kalani, deserves this throne more than I do. “Any more questions?”

“Yes, but not about the heir,” Sephira says and looks at Thalia. “It is about the alliance between the Court of Miracles and the Court of Storms. The past queen and we agreed on marrying you to the prince of the Court of Miracles to form an alliance and release us from our debts. As you know, the High King paid all our debts. My question is: are we going to be allied to the Court of Miracles? The High King incarcerated Rowan and he is not allowed to set foot on the Court of Miracles for whatever reason that I do not need to know.”

Thalia looks at me. “This is a decision that I will not make, but Rowan will.”

“I will come clean to you because you need to know what we are getting into,” I say as I lean on my chair, holding my hands and putting on the table. “At the wedding, I could not perform the miracle that Thalia asked me for. It turns out that I am not the High King’s biological son.”

“You are a nobody?” Oren asks. I try not to be insulted.

“No, I am the son of the previous queen of the Court of Miracles,” I answer. I do not know where mother came from, since no one spoke about her, but I am sure that she had to be royalty in order to marry father.

“And now he is the prince of the Court of Storms,” Thalia adds. I like having her on my side.

“Even if I am not the son of the High King, I still married for an alliance,” I return to explanation. “The High King threw me in the dungeons, but I will not break the alliance by it. It will cost a lot of lives to be at war with him. A king must put his court first and before himself.”

“Well said,” Sir Fafner says as he pats me on the back hard enough to make me move. “I will give my vote to make Rowan the next king.”

“I must say, a king and a queen being equal is an interesting idea,” Sephira says, nodding her head slowly in amusement. “I too vote in favor of Rowan.”

“What about the rest?” Thalia asks.

“I do not agree to this,” Oren protests. “There are too many variables that could affect this court. Making him king can have more bad outcomes than good.”

“I am afraid of this. I agree with Oren,” Master Nidd says. “People do not like change, and this is too much at once.” We all turn to Elvia. Her vote will be the tiebreaker.

“I believe that the prince will do everything is his powers to protect our court,” Elvia says as she smiles warmly at me. “I will grant him my vote.”

“Then it is settled,” Thalia says. “We –”

“This is preposterous,” Oren says as he hits the table with his fist and stands up. “A king that rules the Court of Storms that does not come from this court? I do not agree to this!”

“Thalia will rule alongside him,” Sephira says. “They will have the same authority.”

“Even worst!” Oren yells. “A king is meant to be the supreme leader, not a queen. I will not stand here and watch the Courts of Storms rumble into pieces!”

“Anything that you might want to add?” Thalia asks him with one eyebrow raised. She is holding her hands, fingers crossing. She is serious. “I suggest that you choose your next words cautiously.”

“I do not believe that two kids should rule the Court of Storms,” he adds. “We have been in the council for decades. We should be ruling until you become of age!”

“Guards,” Thalia shouts as she turns to stop watching Oren. Two knights enter the room. “Escort Oren out of the castle. His services as a strategist will no longer be required.”

“What?” Oren shouts but the guards are already grabbing him. “Do not touch me! I said do not touch me!” The knights stop grabbing him. “You two will be the ending of this court!”

“Farewell, Oren,” Thalia simply says, not looking at him. The knights escort him away. When the door closes, Thalia stands up. “In a few hours, the coronation will take place. Since mother is not here to announce the next queen and king, I will ask you, Sephira, to announce us.”

“My pleasure,” Sephira answers as she makes a bow sitting.

“I will also like for Kalani and Breeze to crown us,” Thalia says. I stand up next to her.

“Of course,” Elvia answers.

“I will see you all in a few hours,” Thalia says as she walks away. I follow her.

“Why did you fire the strategist?” I ask Thalia. I am the cruel one, not her.

“They needed to know that even if we are new, they need to respect us,” Thalia says. “Also, there were rumors that he tried to take advantage of my mother whenever father was not around. I do not trust him in my castle.”

She walks through the hallway, up the stairs, and through another hallway with her head raised. She opens a door when we are at another room, revealing a huge bedroom. She throws herself on the bed as I close the door.

“I do not like being the next queen,” Thalia says, letting her façade drop. “They expect you to know every answer, to make every decision. It is exhausting.”

“I know, but we will get through it,” I say as I sit beside her.

The room is bigger than my rooms back at the Court of Miracles. Purple is also the color of this room. The rug is purple and the curtains too. There are other doors that might lead to the bathroom and the balcony. There is a long dark brown wooden table in one side of the room. There are sofas, nightstands, coffee tables, and dressers also.

“Oh, this is our room,” Thalia says as she sits up. “It used to be mother’s room, but now it is ours.” She lays back down on her back and pulls my arm. “Come on. Lie with me.” I lie down and turn to face her. We are inches from each other. “Are you prepare for procreating in the future?”

I smile. She is playing again. “I think so,” I say. “Think about our offspring. They will have your blue eyes and my tanned skin, smile, charisma, confidence –”

“And arrogance too,” Thalia says as she rolls her eyes. She looks at my chest, avoiding making eye contact with me. Her smile disappears. “Are you sure that we can do this?” She is back to talking about ruling.

“This, and more,” I say, and I kiss her forehead, letting her know that I am here for her.

***

I am dressed in fine clothing that whoever did this knows about styling. It is colored dark purple and small parts of black. There is no sign of white, and I do not care if there are not. There is not an inch of skin showing, including my neck which the blazer covers. The back of the purple blazer goes beyond my waist as if it a had a flat tail. The dark purple boots have the soles shining black, just like the buttons of the blazer. I leave the Cursebreaker on the bed.

“Take it,” Thalia says. She is putting on amethyst earrings as she looks on the mirror. “The people from the court will feel safe to know that the king can wield a sword.” I nod and put the sword against my waist.

Thalia is wearing a long dark purple dress, even darker than my clothes. It is laid elegantly and loose, not showing any of her hips or marking her waist. It has faint and little amount of glitter. She looks like the night sky with stars. Her almost black hair is up in an elegant bun. Her eyes have dark purple makeup and her lips are black.

I wrap my arms around her waist from behind. She has her head tilt to the right as she tries to put her earring. “You look dazzling,” I say as I kiss her exposed side of her neck. “I could eat you right now.”

“No. Right now is not the time,” she says as she moves away from me. She searches for some bracelets on the dresser.

“And when?” I ask, turning to look at her.

“When I feel like it,” Thalia says, not looking at me.

“You forget that we are married,” I say.

“Politically, not romantically,” she says and then smiles at me. “If you want this, you have to win it.” Before I could answer, she adds, “Come on. Let’s get going.” She squeezes her arm between mine.

We walk out of the room. I am supposed to be guiding her, but I do not know which way to go. She guides me instead through hallways and rooms. When we get to the front door of the throne room, she stops. She stares at me and fixes my collar.

“How do I look?” she asks.

“I already said it,” I say. “You look perfect.” She smiles, nods, and stands beside me again.

The knights open the door and we start to walk in. The throne room is long. Faeries from all around the court have gathered here. They stand up when they see us walk in. Thalia smiles and waves at every faerie. She even mouths words to faeries that she knows. At the end of the room, two identical throne sits. They are made of wood and their cushions are dark purple.

At the left, the Storm Council stand. They nod as we walk. On the right, Kalani and Breeze stands, each one with a pillow and a golden crown. We walk to the throne and I let Thalia go as I stand in front of the left throne and she on the right. We turn to face the crowd.

“Greetings, faeries from the Court of Storms,” Sephira says as she steps in front. “We are here to witness the crowning of our future king, Rowan from the Court of Miracles, and future queen, Thalia from the Court of Storms.” She then turns towards us. “Princess Thalia, will you stand up in front of your court?”

Thalia moves to the middle.

“Princess Thalia, will you accept to place the needs of your king and family before yours? Will you accept the Court of Storms as your family? Will you accept to treat every faerie from the Court of Storms as your own children? Will you accept the title of Storm Queen?”

“I do,” Thalia says. Kalani steps in front of Thalia. She hands the pillow to Sephira and takes the golden crown, with dark amethyst gems, with both hands. Thalia kneels.

“Then from now on you will be our queen of the Court of Storms,” Kalani says as she puts the crown on Thalia’s head. The faeries start applauding as Thalia steps back and sits on the throne. Kalani returns to her place.

“Prince Rowan, will you stand up in front of your court?” Sephira says. I stand up and walk to the middle. “Prince Rowan, will you accept to place the needs of your queen and family before yours? Will you accept the Court of Storms as your family? Will you accept to treat every faerie from the Court of Storms as your own children? Will you accept the title of Storm King?”

“I do,” I say. Breeze steps in front of me as I kneel. She is the youngest princess in the court with the age of seven. She has dark purple hair, the same as Thalia and Kalani, and golden eyes like Kalani. She hands the pillow to Sephira and takes the crown.

“Then from now on you will be our king of the Court of Storms,” Breeze says as she places the crown on my head.

I can feel a force inside of me as the crown lands. Something has infiltrated me. I can feel the clouds above me. I can hear the thundering. I can feel every cloud, every wind, every bird on the sky. I sit down on the throne.

Father was wrong about everything. I swing my finger in circles and I feel the clouds above me move the same way, following my finger. The Court of Storms can never die. Not a single court can replace it, because the magic to control storms does not come only from heritage. The magic to control storms is gifted by the crown and court. I am not a Miracle King. I am a Storm King and I now possess storm magic.