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Afraid of the queen’s reaction. Afraid of what people would say. Afraid of failing. If I challenged her and was not successful, I could not continue my work at the palace. Queen Lirael was many things, but overly forgiving was not one of them.

As we turned a corner, the palace came into view well ahead of us. It was a spectacular sight, built partially over the ocean and partially on land, its lights glistening like the reflection of moonlight on the water.

“What if you succeed?”

Realizing I hadn’t heard the whole of Rowan’s story, I asked him to repeat it, admitting I’d been lost in thought for a moment.

“I was reminded of the first time I was given a steel sword. I asked my grandfather what might happen if I failed to defend myself. Would I be mortally wounded? He said that instead of being so concerned with failing, that I should ask myself instead… what if I succeeded? It is a question that resonates with me still.”

“Do you remember what you said to him?”

Rowan smiled, whatever had bothered him seemingly forgotten. “That I might live to see another day, and be proud of it.”

“Did you wear armor?”

“We did, but I was young and hadn’t realized the difference yet. But that was typical of him, to offer such advice rather than giving a more direct answer.”

“Which would have been?”

“That between the padded gambeson I wore and our blunted weapons, there was little chance of me being mortally wounded.”

What if you succeed?

It was a question I rarely asked myself, the answer more far-reaching than I could imagine. What would happen if I succeeded in challenging the queen? The queen and I thought very differently on Thalassaria’s future, how it related to the other clans. And according to Aneri, more believed as I did—as Caelum and Marek did—than ever before.

What would happen?

Everything would change.

But also…

“Rowan?”

“Nerys?”

I loved the way he said my name.

“Something just occurred to me.”

“You finally realized I am the most charming, handsome, intelligent man you’ve ever met?”

That too.

I stopped, grabbing his arm.

“What is it?” he asked, concern, rather than laughter, now etched into his expression.

“If I challenged the queen…” I dropped his arm, realizing I still clutched the fabric of his shirt. “If I won…”

He waited.

“I could give you the Tidal Pearl. King Galfrid and the princess could reopen the Gate.”

Of course, he was not surprised. This would have occurred to him already.

“They still need the other artifacts, but aye, we would be one step closer to reopening it.”

He took me by both arms, his grip firm. Steadying.