Things were though when we settled in. 

When I confronted my parents, for instance. There was lots of screaming and shouting. Executions were ordered. But with the assistance of a rather scary sword, I managed to secure my place once again. 

They weren't thrilled about the running away part. Or the Arion-is-dead part. Or the Cherry-and-I-are-together part. But slowly, slowly, things went back to normal. 

Except for my mother. It's odd how a magical weapon and newfound confidence can drive away an abusive parent. 

I remember the funeral. Everyone was there, dressed in grays and blacks that perfectly reflected my mood. She was buried as a prince, which I know she would've hated. There's not even a body to bury. 

I remember curling up in the library with Cherry through the history books, until I found the part that had made me think of her. 

The burned kingdom of Baa-Solan. 

We flipped through the pages, Cherry squeezing my shoulder anxiously. The tragedy had been documented not only for its death toll—over twenty five thousand—but for the peculiar observation that there were no children's corpses found in the ruins. 

A shiver ran down my spine when I read that. 

There were more. So many more than Cherry. 

So the two of us are now working together to rescue the victims, ranging in age from their thirties to their early teens. We've saved at least thirty so far. We have teams of knights, too, rescuing the mage's prisoners.

Some were found in towers, or caves, or underwater, or in little forest huts. It seems that the mage had stashed them all over, in whatever environment possible. 

They all have magic. 

Research is still being conducted to find out how. 

But I shove all that from my mind as I study the girl in front of me, clad in white. 

Cherry showed me how she'd dyed her dresses—sending Fahj-Dsal down to collect flowers, which she'd turn into dyes. A couple days ago, after she'd proposed, we went flower collecting. She taught me how to dye the cloth properly. 

So my silk gown is splattered with red, black, and brown, and her chiffon sundress swirls with yellow, blue, pink, and purple. 

Her hair is braided with little white rosebuds. She's not wearing any makeup—never learned to apply it after the tower. She walks towards me, clutching a colourful bouquet that matches the dress. 

"Are you ready?" She asks. Fahj-Dsal scampers up her leg, a wreath hung around her neck. 

I laugh a bit. I wonder which of the kids did that. 

"Of course I am." I grab her hands. She giggles a bit. 

Seven years ago, to this day, I rescued her from that tower. Terrible things happened, definitely. But everything's working out now. 

"You got the rings?" I ask. 

She reaches into one of her pockets and pulls them out, handing them to me. 

I scratch Fahj-Dsal under the chin and fasten the rings to the wreath. Perfect. 

Trumpets blare from outside our little room. Music starts to swell, announcing our cue. 

"Don't trip," she says to me. "Because if you trip, I'll trip." 

I roll my eyes but eye my high heels suspiciously. Yeah. Heels. But after the hell I went through to get this wedding legalized, I'm going all out. 

Hands locked together, the curtains draw apart as we step out onto the alter. A grizzled old man that I recognize from one of the temples stands behind it, glaring sourly as we take our places. 

He seems a bit surprised. I don't know if anyone told him he's marrying two girls. 

He glances at me, aghast. "Your Highness, are you sure—" he speaks in a hushed whisper. 

I grin at Cherry. 

"Oh, do shut up, Archibald, and let us get married." 

"I—"

Cherry smirks, making a proceed gesture with her hands. 

The ceremony takes longer than I would've liked, because it's a royal wedding. All of the kingdom is here, but almost all of them share the same confused expression. 

A couple of them, though, wear hope on their faces instead. 

My parents are here, too. As the king and queen, they have to be. My father has his usual blank, slightly bewildered expression, while my mother is glowering at me. 

I blow her a kiss. 

I'll admit, Archibald's rambling kind of kills the thrill of getting married, but the surge of excitement I feel when he says "you may kiss the bride," makes it all worth it. 

She kisses me, or I kiss her. In front of the whole kingdom, for everyone to see. 

And it feels amazing. 

We still have unanswered questions about the past. About Cherry, about the mage, about the magic. But just for today, we're going to shove them aside. 

After all, we're free. 

And we finally have a future to look forwards to. 

Author's note: If you're reading this, that means you made it all the way through! Honestly, you deserve applause. From my lack of editing to my utter refusal to follow and updating schedule to my complete cluelessness when it comes to the romance genre, this has been a real adventure. Your reads, comments, and votes mean so much to me, though. I doubt  would've made it this far without you guys.

Now I have a favour to ask. I'll be submitting my completed novella to ONC on May Fifth. I'm hoping to get at least some editing done. So if it's possible for you, any grammar reviews/constructive criticism would help me so much. 

Thanks so much! Love you guys! 

—Sofia