Of Fairytales and Magic by Emma Hamm

Epilogue

“Now, remember. The mortal realm isn’t all that safe. You might look more mortal than the other goblins, but you are not mortal.” Freya patted her daughter on the head, making sure every hair was in place.

“Mama,” Fiona said, her bright diamond eyes wide with annoyance. “You said I could go to the goblin market. You promised!”

“I’m not saying you can’t go.” Freya wanted to say that she couldn’t go. Then her nerves might settle and she wouldn’t be so worried that her daughter wouldn’t return.

It was an irrational worry, of course. The Goblin King always went to the goblin markets with the children, just in case anyone tried to harm the little ones. And that meant that Fiona’s father would look over her the entire time.

But Eldridge was more likely to coax his daughter into an inappropriate adventure than he was to whisk her away to safety. After all, he thought Fiona was capable of so much more than a little girl should do.

Speak of the devil, Eldridge walked into their daughter’s bedroom with his riding gloves in hand. “Ready, little imp?”

“Ready!” Fiona leapt off her bed, jumping straight into the air, expecting her father would catch her. Arms wide. Legs akimbo. Pale hair flying in every direction.

Freya’s heart stopped in her chest every time they did this. Even though Eldridge had never dropped their daughter.

He snagged Fiona mid-air, then spun around wildly. “My love! How did the two of us dark things make a little star to light up our life?”

He always said that about their daughter. And in truth, Freya had no idea. Magic had a way of making children look different from their parents here. And Fiona looked a little like them, but mostly she appeared her own person.

She had Freya’s face and heart-shaped lips. But her hair was pale as snow from the day she was born. She’d inherited her father’s strange eyes, but hers were like crystalized diamonds. They lacked color entirely, but when one really looked into them, the palest ice blue shards were held in that unearthly gaze. Her pale skin glowed in the moonlight, and sometimes she glimmered with moon magic that neither she nor Eldridge understood.

Their daughter was the first of her kind, and as such, they could both expect many surprises from the little one.

“Just be careful, you two,” she said. Freya tried her best not to wring her hands as all that worry flowed through her veins.

The Stronghold provided her with a seat to rest in, and the cushion was more comfortable than any other in the building. She sent a mental thank you to the building and tried to calm her nerves. A teacup appeared next to her elbow.

She lifted it and the small plate beneath it, though her shaking hands made them clack together. “Eldridge,” she repeated. “I want you two to be careful. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you, love.” He dropped their daughter to the floor and rolled his eyes. “It’s like you think we’re going to storm a castle.”

“I wouldn’t put it past the two of you. If she batted her eyelashes, you’d give her an entire mortal kingdom to play with.” She sipped loudly from her tea. “Keep our daughter safe, or I will bring the entire Autumn Kingdom to your own castle and storm it.”

Eldridge met their daughter’s wide-eyed gaze with one of his own. “Mommy is terrifying.”

“Down right mad,” Fiona replied.

“Do you think we stand a chance if we try to bargain with her?”

“Unlikely.” Her daughter crossed her arms firmly over her eight-year-old chest and sighed. “I think we’ll have to take matters into our own hands. If we don’t, who knows what problems she’ll cause.”

“I do believe you’re right. I taught you well.” Eldridge mimicked his daughter’s posture and stared Freya down.

Freya sighed and put her teacup down. “Don’t you dare. Both of you know better than to pull this on me. You won’t win.”

As if that was the phrase that released them, her husband and daughter attacked. They leapt across the room with unnatural speed. Eldridge caught her around the shoulders, pinning her to the chair, and Fiona sat on her lap while tickling underneath her arms mercilessly.

They knew her weakness. And apparently that was her daughter’s tiny fingers digging into her ribs.

Her laughter mixed with theirs, filling the room with so much happiness that it burst free from her in a wave of magic that sent bright red leaves tumbling through the room. Finally, Freya caught her breath for long enough to cry out, “Stop! I give!”

Like always, that was all it took. They’d trained their daughter early on that the only way to form any sort of trust was to know when a person had to stop. Fiona was good at that. She was good at everything, however.

Her daughter rolled over her lap and flopped onto the floor, still giggling like a mad woman.

“Oh, I’m the crazy one?” Freya said while shaking out her skirts. “You, little girl, are the only child in the room that can’t stop laughing.”

Fiona pointed behind Freya, still hugging her belly.

Of course, Freya turned to see Eldridge wiping tears from his eyes, and still consumed by mirth. Her husband, the other half of her soul, rarely had a day when he wasn’t this happy anymore.

He filled her soul with so much love.

She stepped into his waiting arms and let him tug her into his embrace. Eldridge pressed a kiss to her head. “I’ll take good care of her. I’ll take care of them all, my love. You needn’t worry.”

“I do, though.”

“I know.” He pulled back and smiled down at her. “But that’s only because you love us so much.”

Freya cupped his face in her hand and knew her world began and ended with him. “I do. I love you so, so much.”