Page 174
Story: What Blooms from Death
Where had he gone?
What was he planning to do next?
What couldIpossibly do to stop him?
I started to collapse back into my blankets and pillows, but Aveline caught me in her arms and held me against her instead. I gave into her embrace, as I usually did, letting her comfortingscent carry me away into a softer, kinder world. I let her brush my bedraggled hair and braid it. I didn’t fight her when she insisted I get up and bathe and change into clean clothes.
At least another hour passed. My tears finally stopped. The aching in my gut didn’t subside, but I made myself move, more and more, in spite of it. I had to keep moving. I still didn’t know what I was going to do. And I was still afraid—the fear would always be there, I suspected.
But maybe Aveline was right.
Maybe I was not made entirely of that fear.
I went to my wardrobe, taking out my boots and belt. Grabbed my favorite knife from the nearby dresser—the same knife that had been bathed in Lorien’s blood just days ago. I still had it, at least. A reminder that I could still fight, no matter what he had stolen from me. I secured it at my side before turning around to find Aveline watching me, her expression unreadable.
“I have to go,” I told her, quietly.
She didn’t protest this time. She only beckoned me toward her, taking a silver pin from her own hair and using it to better secure the crown of braids she’d woven around my head.
“Be careful, my Queen,” she said, kissing my cheek.
I headed straightfor my brother’s office, Phantom trotting at my heels.
Bastian spent more time in this office than in any other place within the palace—and this was exactly where I found him, as expected, sitting at the head of the long, marble-topped table that took up half the room.
But he was also surrounded by several of our own court, as well as the visiting Noctarisan leaders. The sheer size of the audience made me pause, briefly, and reconsider the words I’dbeen prepared to say. The demands I’d been a breath away from making.
Several of those leaders caught sight of me. The mood in the room immediately shifted from a quiet, smoldering tension to something far more volatile and ready to erupt, as if I were an ember tossing myself into a pile of dry kindling. A few stood, moving as if to approach me. Their expressions ranged from grim curiosity to outright anger. One of them—Lord Marek—started toward me, his eyes full of far more vitriol than the others.
Phantom growled threateningly at my side.
My brother was on his feet in an instant, catching Marek by his jacket and jerking him to a stop. Marek twisted violently from his grasp. An uneasy ripple raced through the rest of the room, bringing almost everyone at the table to their feet.
Bastian shoved Marek back toward the others and stepped purposely, protectively in front of me.
“Excuse us one moment,” he said to the group, placing a hand on my back and guiding me away from them. We walked out of the room and down the hall—well out of hearing range—before he stopped and looked me over.
“Thank the gods you’re awake.” He placed his hands on my shoulders, studying me for a moment before wrapping me in a quick embrace. “I thought I’d lost you again.” His gaze lingered on my new scars as he pulled away, and he swallowed hard. “Whathappenedin that chamber?”
So many things I needed to tell him. But I knew how he operated, by this point; if I spilled all of the information he wanted, he would start making decisions and plans without hesitation—plans that almost certainly wouldn’t involve releasing the Light King. Because leaving him to rot in the dungeons would be thesaferthing.
“I’ll tell you all of it,” I said, “but I want Aleks present for this conversation.”
He massaged the space between his eyes. “Nova…”
“I’m not changing my mind on this.”
“We need to consider—”
“Those are my orders.” My words were sharp-edged and swift, cutting without restraint through the tense air between us. “Am I the future queen of this kingdom or not?”
He didn’t reply right away; it was the first time I’d openly spoken of taking the crown he’d offered me weeks ago, and the words seemed to catch him off guard.
In the corner of my vision, I saw Thalia stepping out of the office, pushing her way through people, striding toward us. I could feel her gaze narrowing in my direction, but I didn’t take my eyes off my brother’s.
“If you do not release him, then I will find a way to do it myself,” I said.
We glared at one another. My heart pounded. I realized I was holding my breath, and I forced myself to exhale slowly. Calmly.
What was he planning to do next?
What couldIpossibly do to stop him?
I started to collapse back into my blankets and pillows, but Aveline caught me in her arms and held me against her instead. I gave into her embrace, as I usually did, letting her comfortingscent carry me away into a softer, kinder world. I let her brush my bedraggled hair and braid it. I didn’t fight her when she insisted I get up and bathe and change into clean clothes.
At least another hour passed. My tears finally stopped. The aching in my gut didn’t subside, but I made myself move, more and more, in spite of it. I had to keep moving. I still didn’t know what I was going to do. And I was still afraid—the fear would always be there, I suspected.
But maybe Aveline was right.
Maybe I was not made entirely of that fear.
I went to my wardrobe, taking out my boots and belt. Grabbed my favorite knife from the nearby dresser—the same knife that had been bathed in Lorien’s blood just days ago. I still had it, at least. A reminder that I could still fight, no matter what he had stolen from me. I secured it at my side before turning around to find Aveline watching me, her expression unreadable.
“I have to go,” I told her, quietly.
She didn’t protest this time. She only beckoned me toward her, taking a silver pin from her own hair and using it to better secure the crown of braids she’d woven around my head.
“Be careful, my Queen,” she said, kissing my cheek.
I headed straightfor my brother’s office, Phantom trotting at my heels.
Bastian spent more time in this office than in any other place within the palace—and this was exactly where I found him, as expected, sitting at the head of the long, marble-topped table that took up half the room.
But he was also surrounded by several of our own court, as well as the visiting Noctarisan leaders. The sheer size of the audience made me pause, briefly, and reconsider the words I’dbeen prepared to say. The demands I’d been a breath away from making.
Several of those leaders caught sight of me. The mood in the room immediately shifted from a quiet, smoldering tension to something far more volatile and ready to erupt, as if I were an ember tossing myself into a pile of dry kindling. A few stood, moving as if to approach me. Their expressions ranged from grim curiosity to outright anger. One of them—Lord Marek—started toward me, his eyes full of far more vitriol than the others.
Phantom growled threateningly at my side.
My brother was on his feet in an instant, catching Marek by his jacket and jerking him to a stop. Marek twisted violently from his grasp. An uneasy ripple raced through the rest of the room, bringing almost everyone at the table to their feet.
Bastian shoved Marek back toward the others and stepped purposely, protectively in front of me.
“Excuse us one moment,” he said to the group, placing a hand on my back and guiding me away from them. We walked out of the room and down the hall—well out of hearing range—before he stopped and looked me over.
“Thank the gods you’re awake.” He placed his hands on my shoulders, studying me for a moment before wrapping me in a quick embrace. “I thought I’d lost you again.” His gaze lingered on my new scars as he pulled away, and he swallowed hard. “Whathappenedin that chamber?”
So many things I needed to tell him. But I knew how he operated, by this point; if I spilled all of the information he wanted, he would start making decisions and plans without hesitation—plans that almost certainly wouldn’t involve releasing the Light King. Because leaving him to rot in the dungeons would be thesaferthing.
“I’ll tell you all of it,” I said, “but I want Aleks present for this conversation.”
He massaged the space between his eyes. “Nova…”
“I’m not changing my mind on this.”
“We need to consider—”
“Those are my orders.” My words were sharp-edged and swift, cutting without restraint through the tense air between us. “Am I the future queen of this kingdom or not?”
He didn’t reply right away; it was the first time I’d openly spoken of taking the crown he’d offered me weeks ago, and the words seemed to catch him off guard.
In the corner of my vision, I saw Thalia stepping out of the office, pushing her way through people, striding toward us. I could feel her gaze narrowing in my direction, but I didn’t take my eyes off my brother’s.
“If you do not release him, then I will find a way to do it myself,” I said.
We glared at one another. My heart pounded. I realized I was holding my breath, and I forced myself to exhale slowly. Calmly.
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