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“Arwin.” Valda’s voice deepened as she took a step closer to him. “I am not the little girl you took under your wing to train. I will not make the bad decision of following all your orders as I did before.”

“When you followed orders, you were better off, Your Highness.” He gritted his teeth. “Having a Sealian in the castle, even as the help, doesn’t look good for us.”

“Neither does “the help” we’ve given them.”

Arwin scoffed, squared his shoulders and looked at Maris again. “I think we’ve done enough for them. The least they can do is be more grateful.”

“Do you even know what you are talking about?” Maris asked, her hands clenching by her side.

“How did you get in this castle without me knowing?”

Maris opened her mouth to answer but was silenced by Valda’s warning growl.

“Enough! She answers to me, General. Not to you. Now, please move on to the burial grounds. I want this day to be over.”

Arwin took a deep breath and turned from Valda to Maris. He fixed his hazel eyes on her, as if burning her into his memory. “I will be taking my leave. Yet, I do need to know when you will be available for your first briefing.”

“Later.”

Maris smiled at the terse answer and at the General’s annoyance.

“Of course,” Arwin ended the conversation, grabbing the handle of his sword and walking away.

Valda waited for a couple of seconds before closing her eyes and exhaling. “He is a handful,” she began before moving closer to Maris. “Sometimes I cannot stand him.”

“Do you, now?” Maris asked before touching Valda’s hand on her shoulder. “He seems controlling.”

“A Skylian trait, I assure you,” Valda smirked.

Maris caught that smirk and couldn’t help but show one of her own. She cleared her throat as Valda straightened her back before squeezing Maris’s shoulder.

“Take me to the burial grounds, please.”

The Skylian sun was unforgiving. The heat filtering through her clothing burned her shoulders and back. Valda was used to the heat. The many battles she had fought in the southern deserts had made her skin tough. The darker shade was proof of that.

As she stood before her mother’s closed casket, Valda listened to the words of a high priestess, reading from the Codex Olympica, specifically the book of Ouranos.

Valda had memorized each verse relating the god’s journey through the world as a child, yet never truly followed the god’s teaching.

Maybe that was the reason she was cursed. Maybe not following her studies was the reason all of this was happening.

The priestess closed the Codex and said the words everyone wanted to hear. Queen Rionach will be reborn, she will find her mate, and continue the endless cycle of birth and death.

Valda shifted her weight from one leg to the other uncomfortably, and Maris pressed her side to her arm. Valda thanked the gods for her. Even with a simple touch she was able to calm her, enough to pull through the horrible ordeal of burying her mother.

She tried not to cry, but as soon as Maris told her that they were placing desert roses and lowering the casket to the ground, a sneaky tear slid down her warm cheek.

She was going to miss her mother. Her smile, her jokes, the way she protected her. How she always tried to have a solution to her problems, no matter how big or small. She would miss her warmth, and how she encircled Valda’s entire being in her slender arms. She would miss the sound of her laughter, the warmth of her lips upon her cheek and forehead. She would miss having her worried sick when she left for missions and the spark in her eyes when she came back, unharmed.

“Long live Queen Rionach!” Valda croaked, unable to hide the pain of finally saying her goodbyes. She pressed her fist to her chest, saluting her mother one last time. She didn’t move untilMaris signaled that it was done, and that the queen’s casket was covered with dirt.

After the burial grounds were emptied, Valda moved to the castle’s main quarters. The room belonged to the queen and king. It was located on one of the tallest pillars. Its balcony looked over Ophelia Plaza in its entirety, and some of the surrounding villages.

It was time for Valda to address her people, and though she was not ready to speak with thousands of Skylians, her heart poured out for them. They were scared, and they had their reasons to fear the unknown. The dawn of the new Kingdom looked bleak, as if a dark curtain had cast its shadow upon them, and even if Valda could not see, she could feel the tension in the air.

Valda stood on the balcony, her hands gently resting on the cold railing. Blind to the bustling streets below, the energy was palpable. She took a deep breath and lifted her chin, determined to be whatever her people needed her to be.

“Sky Kingdom,” she began, her voice ringing out strong and clear. “I stand before you as your queen.”