Chapter 24—He's So Beautiful

The suns shone brightly over the grounds at Finaqua on a morning five annuals later. DG sat on the swing in the gazebo, which she'd ordered to be re-hung right before she'd given birth to her little boy. She marveled everyday about how much Wyatt Jr. looked like his father. He had the same curly blond hair, with just a touch of the unruliness of his mother's, and the same clear blue eyes. Somehow, he also had some of the same mannerisms, right down to his father's trademark thin-lined lips when he was frustrated. Of course, that could have something to do with his big brother's influence.

Jeb was another reason for DG to smile. He'd been there for her since his father's death, and especially since she'd had the baby. She asked about it once, why he was sticking around so close to take care of the woman that had been the cause of so much tension with his father. His answer had been simple: he hadn't had a chance to reconcile with his father when he was still with them, so the least that he could do was to help protect the people who his father had held most dear.

DG's mother had stepped down three annuals ago, and, since DG was an unwed mother at the time and those things don't go over so well in the monarchy, Azkadellia had taken the throne. As soon as DG informed her mother of the pregnancy, the former Queen had insisted that she find a suitor and marry so she could still be the Heir Apparent. Lavender's displeasure was intense when DG flatly refused in a tone that would brook no argument. There was a huge argument between mother and daughter, full of caustic words that couldn't be unsaid. In the end, Lavender couldn't legally force DG to marry against her will, as the Queen herself had changed the marriage laws governing the monarchy so she could be with Ahamo. Lavender held out hope that DG might still marry before she had to retire, but that hadn't happened.

You were wrong about that, Wyatt, she thought as she remembered his last words to her. Azkadellia stepped into her mother's shoes gracefully. The elder Gale daughter actually did very well as Queen, and the people were a little more forgiving of her than DG had anticipated. Then again, when you live in a Realm where magic was actively practiced and 

highly regarded, it's easy for most to understand the idea of evil witches being able to inhabit young princesses. In the three annuals since Azkadellia had ascended the throne, she'd managed to win the hearts of the people by bolstering the economy, finishing the restoration of those areas that had been destroyed by the witch, and the customary baby kissing and hand shaking. Even Az herself had to admit that being Queen suited her.

DG and Lavender had an uncertain relationship at best, until Wyatt Jr. was born. When the bouncing baby boy arrived, the Queen decided that being a part of the lives of both her first grandson and her younger daughter was too high a price for her wounded pride. DG tentatively accepted her mother's apology, and since then, DG had actually found her mother to be quite amiable, if a bit reserved. She was a doting grandmother, despite her fondness for formality, and Wyatt Jr. loved her dearly.

DG dug her toe into the wood floor of the gazebo and pushed the swing back. It had become her custom over the last five annuals to sit on the gazebo on the anniversary of her Tin Man's passing. Conveniently, she made sure that the swing faced north when the carpenters hung it so she could face the Northern Island. Each year she would drop Wyatt Jr. off with Azkadellia or Jeb, then come, sit in the swing, and remember.

She remembered the taste of their first kiss, bitter and needy. She remembered the feel of his body as it moved against hers, hard and powerful. She remembered waking up in his arms, warm and safe. She remembered his beautiful smile, soft and radiant. DG sighed. She missed him so much, and she knew that she always would.

Footsteps approached from the direction of the castle, but she didn't acknowledge the presence of whoever was coming to interrupt her reverie. A gentle breeze kissed her face and rustled through her hair. She closed her eyes and leaned into its embrace.

"So, who should I be jealous of," asked the person approaching, "the wind or my father?" Jeb's tone was light and teasing, full of a lightness that he hoped would be appreciated.

"You don't have to tease, you know," said DG with a smirk, "or sneak. Which, by the way, is something that you're terrible at."

"Who says I didn't want to surprise you so I let you hear me coming?"

DG just chuckled, then fiddled with the ring on her left hand. It still felt strange there, like she was being unfaithful to the memory of her first love and unfaithful to her new husband at the same time. "I'm still not quite sure about this whole married-to-my-son's-brother thing."

It was Jeb's turn to chuckle as he stepped up behind the swing. He placed his hands over hers on the swing's ropes and bent down to kiss her cheek. "He would want you to be happy, Deej. The family tree might look a little strange, but that's not really a big worry."

DG smiled at him. The awkwardness had been thick for both of them at the beginning of their courtship, but Glitch, oddly enough, had been the one to prod them both into acting on the mutual attraction just a little over an annual ago. They both soon saw that their hesitations were unfounded. It wasn't a marriage of convenience, as a few naysayers claimed. They did love each other, and that was enough for either of them.

"Is it time to go inside already?" asked DG as she turned her face back into the breeze.

"Yeah," answered Jeb reluctantly. "Wyatt's getting hungry and cranky."

"In other words, he's using his magic to throw his toys around the room?"

"Something like that," said Jeb, his voice slightly bemused.

"Alright, I'm coming." She stood reluctantly. "Just give me a second."

Jeb nodded his affirmative and then walked away. He knew she was saying her goodbyes again, and it was something with which he would never interfere. He said his won goodbyes to his father every day.

In the gazebo, DG faced the wind again. It was a cool breeze floating in from the North. She liked to imagine that he was sending her a gift from the Northern Island itself. Her eyes slipped closed as the coolness washed over her cheeks.

I'll always love you, Wyatt. I wish we'd had our chance. I wish you'd been able to meet your son. He looks like you. He walks like you. I bet he'll even talk like you when he's older. You can be at peace, because I'm ok. Jeb will take care of me, and I'd like to think you'd approve. Until next year…I love you!