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I am old. I am tired. I miss the people I love. Your mother was my best friend. Even after all these years, I find myself constantly searching for your mother’s face in a crowd or reaching for parchment to write to her.

I know Yorin waits for me too. And when I get to see your mother and grandmother again, it will be with the knowledge that I was able to spare you just a little pain. Losing me will be difficult. But I had a long life, and— if everything happened the way I intended—I died while bringing our people home. I can think of no better way to spend my last moments.

I know you, Nelayra. And I know your mind will be lingering on the fact that I didn’t get to see our kingdom rise. That after everything, I never got to step foot in Lyrinore. But I can assure you, I will be watching as you take your throne. And I count myself lucky that I was able to see you become the queen you were meant to be.

Tell Asinia I’m sorry. But she doesn’t need me to teach her—she only thinks she does. I expect her to open her business within the year.

Demos,

I’m sure you feel tricked. I’m sure you are enraged by the fact that you unsuspectingly helped me that day when you found the sanctuary for me. Yes, I bargained with the gods. And no, I have no regrets.

The worst period of my life was knowing you were in that dungeon and I couldn’t get to you. That you had to watch your friends—the people you considered family— slaughtered and never know why you were spared. Occasionally, I wondered if it might have been kinder to have let you go.

And then I met Nelayra.

You are the general our people have needed for so long. But I urge you to remember that you are more than just a general. When peace comes, you must embrace it. When love is within reach, you must grab it with both hands.

It is time to lay down your sword and live. You are more than just that sword. You are also a man. And Asinia won’t wait forever.

I love both of you so much. I hate that I have to leave you. But it is right for the young to outlive the old.

Live a life you will be proud to tell all of us about when we see you again.

—Telean.

Sorrow swallowed me, and I fell down into its dark belly. I wanted to think of Telean in a better place. A place where her bones didn’t ache and her joints weren’t stiff each morning. A place where she was with my mother and grandmother—and finally, finally with the man she loved.

One day soon, I would be able to think of my aunt that way and smile. But now…

All I could think was that it was horrifyingly unfair and Telean should be here and she would never get to see our homeland and how dare she leave me and Demos when we had barely found her and gods, it hurt tobreathe.

We’d never enjoyed peace with her. Never spent long hours sitting and talking together, all three of us, about subjects that weren’t related to war and death.

And now we never would.

PRISCA

That night, I was crowned beneath the stars in a kingdom that wasn’t my own. But the elders had left instructions. Apparently, they’d felt it necessary to ensure my role as queen was immediately formalized.

Even after all of our disagreements, I mourned the fact that they wouldn’t get to see our people return home. And selfishly, I wished they would be around to help me form my court. To help our people settle into their kingdom.

Lorian would be crowned a week from now. The advisers felt that our people would enjoy an excuse to celebrate the end of the war and the start of a new life for all of us.

My grandmother had worn this crown. My mother would have worn it if Regner hadn’t invaded. Several people had gasped at the sight of it, and I knew it was a glorious example of our kingdom’s exquisite craftsmanship and rich history.

Set with jewels, the crown was cold and heavy. I much preferred the diadem Lorian had given me. But I understood the symbol for what it was. A promise that I understood the true weight of this crown. And that I would bear it for my people.

So, I bowed my head, repeated the vows that Blynth read, and promised to love and protect my kingdom.

And as soon as it was done, the crown was safely tucked away while we turned our attention to the deadand wounded.

Asinia’s friend Cryton hadn’t made it. I’d never met him, but she’d sat next to his body and wept, Demos by her side.

Tibris’s magic was so drained, he could no longer heal even the tiniest cut. Herne had forced him to rest, and I’d carefully hidden a smile as my healer brother—who was so obsessed with taking care of others—was dragged into a tent, a sleep tonic poured down his throat.

“I suppose you’re furious,” Herne said when he stepped out of the tent.

“Furious? No. You just proved you’re perfect for my brother. Welcome to the family.”