“I know,” Inara replied with understanding. “I’m already failing miserably.”
Reyna linked her arm with her daughter. “Your father and I were the same when Vighon lived with us as a child. It was a little easier - his mother was around… most of the time,” she added quietly. “But we’re meant to love. There’s no getting around it.”
“A part of me hopes Gideon never returns,” Inara confessed. “And another part of me hopes he will return this very day, before it’s too late.”
“What will be will be,” Reyna said softly. “All you can do is raise her, keep her safe, and teach her. If she grows to be even half the queen you are then Erador will come to know true prosperity again.”
Inara smiled and squeezed her mother’s hand affectionately. “How are you feeling about… all this?”
Reyna didn’t need to follow her daughter’s gesture to know she was referring to the numerous ships. “I’m dreading the voyage,” she said dryly. “I get terribly sea sick. Hopefully, Faylen’s potion work hasn’t diminished since last we made the trip across The Adean.”
Inara gave a light-hearted laugh. “I wasn’t talking about the journey, Mother.”
“I know what you were talking about,” Reyna admitted. “I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been putting it off. Though I would never have left before helping wherever I could. It’s just been easier to stay busy and not have to think about everything.”
Inara turned her blue eyes on her mother. “It’s not wrong to miss him.”
Reyna wiped her tears away before they streaked down her face. “I’ve been holding so tightly to my memories of him - of all of us. I think that’s why I wanted to do this here,” she said, looking up at the cliffs. “I wanted this to be the last thing I saw before we left, before we closed this chapter on our life. I don’t want any of it to fade.”
“How could it fade?” Inara questioned. “Even now I can still see that young boy running over these very dunes, believing he was a Graycoat.”
Reyna couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “That’s the world I’ve been clinging to.” She turned to the sea. “Beyond that horizon is a new world for me and your father.”
“It’s a new world for us all,” Inara said comfortingly. “Ayda is not so far that we can’t find a way through it without each other. You only have to pick up a diviner to see me.”
“You’re right,” Reyna replied with some confidence. “And we will, of course, return to meet our grandchild,” she added excitedly. “Do you have a name yet?”
Inara continued to walk a few steps, her gaze as distant as the horizon. “Yes.”
Arm in arm, mother and daughter continued down the beach. Reyna wanted to give Inara as much advice as she could on motherhood, but her better judgment told her not to. For all the advice in the world, Inara and Vighon would have to find their way through it all. And she knew they would.
“I was beginning to think you’d run away to The Arid Lands,” Nathaniel jested.
Reyna met his wit with some of her own. “I would not leave my kin to suffer you as their king alone, my love.”
Nathaniel laughed as he held out his arms to take in his daughter. “Let me take a look at you,” he said with a cheeky grin, his eyes running critically over Inara.
Reyna stifled her laugh. How many times had he done exactly that to her over the years? Inara put up only the slightest of protests before she simply pulled her father in to a tight embrace.
“I’ve never had to run a kingdom without you,” Vighon acknowledged, drawing Reyna into his waiting arms.
“You never needed me,” Reyna told him as they parted. “But should you seek some sage advice, I leave you with the best of company.” The king followed her gaze to Galanör, who had Gwenyfer in his arms, and Aenwyn who pretended to admire the girl’s stick collected from the beach.
“You couldn’t have chosen better successors,” Vighon complimented. “Though I will still miss you greatly.”
“We will be back before you know it,” Reyna reminded.
“It feels different knowing how far away you will be,” Vighon decided.
“I know what you mean,” Reyna said with a gentle kiss to his cheek. “But you still have much work to do in Illian. I look forward to seeing your progress upon our return.”
“The next time we set foot on Illian soil,” Nathaniel chimed in, “there will be more Draqaros in the world!” The old Graycoat grasped Vighon’s forearm with a prideful grin before pulling the northman in to his hug.
Reyna left them to their moment and walked over to her new ambassadors. Gwenyfer was already on her feet again and dashing across the sand to Vighon’s side. The elven queen watched her go, envious of the boundless energy that accompanied youth.
“It looks good on you,” Reyna commented, seeing a familiar black bow slung over Aenwyn’s back.
“Thank you, your Grace,” Aenwyn replied humbly. “Though its power is taking some adjusting to.”
Reyna gave a light chuckle. “Yes, it certainly demands practise, even in hands as experienced as yours. I’m sure it will soon come to know its master’s will.” The queen turned to Galanör, her emerald eyes glancing over the blades on his hip. “Are you sure you can resist the path of the ranger long enough to see your duty through?”
“If my time as ambassador is anything like yours, your Grace, Stormweaver and Swiftling will never know rest.”
Reyna couldn’t argue with that. “I hope for your sake your ambassadorship is nothing like mine. Though I am certainly glad Illian has the two of you here to keep an eye on it.”
With that, she embraced them both and returned to her husband’s side. With expression alone, Faylen informed them that they were ready to set sail. Reyna took a breath and looked up at the white cliffs before her eyes
