Page 45

Everly

I left Draven’s room when the uncomfortable silence stretched on for too long after our ill-fated exchange, though I reluctantly ushered his wolves into his suites when I returned to mine. I liked to think they looked at least a little sad to leave me.

Then I returned to my bed and willed my mind to conjure any other sound besides Draven’s voice, low and gravelly, calling me a torment.

Or worse, the resignation that had emanated from his soul when he spoke of the battlefield.

I tossed and turned for another hour, seeing monsters and corpses every time I closed my eyes, until finally, I gave up on sleep. I sat up, picking up the journal from where it rested next to Batty on the pillow next to mine.

Starfire, Day Seventy-Three

The author always did that, gave the date but not the year. Gave titles but not names. Not anonymous, exactly, because she didn’t shy away from acknowledging that she was Queen. More…guarded against history than anyone in her current time.

It was strange.

I asked the king if my dress was too tight over my belly today, and he said no a little too quickly to remember that my ring would warn me of a lie. So the next time I asked him, I held it against his face.

I won’t pretend I didn’t enjoy watching him pale a little when his choices were to make the ring vibrate again or tell me that I looked like one of the sea cows in the Spring Court.

It was all in good fun until I asked him if our family was in danger, and he said no again.

That time I didn’t taunt him with his response. It was a stupid question, anyway. I knew as well as he did that the threats were closing in.

I flipped the page, scanning a few more entries, but they had gone back to daily gossip.

No mention of the threats, or the rings.

Still, the part about the lies was fascinating.

I didn’t know who she was or how her reign had ended, but she had given me more information on the bond than any other book in this palace.

Including the fact that Draven had been telling the truth when he said he had never lied to me.

Wan rays of sunlight poked through the window, so I rose to let Batty take a morning fly. Mirelda came in just as I opened the window, a bit earlier than she normally did.

Nevara had promised me my frost-blasted portrait could wait until after breakfast today, so there was no reason for my maid to be here when dawn had just barely broken.

I turned toward my maid, raising my eyebrows and trying not to feel on edge. The last time Mirelda had come early was the day I had gone to the mages.

She didn’t look tense today, though. If anything, she looked…pleased about something. Which also made me suspicious.

“His Majesty wishes for you to join him for breakfast in the sunroom, so that the people might be comforted by the strength of your union,” she informed me with a small smile.

Batty trilled in annoyance, and I blinked. We had never eaten breakfast together unless it was in an uneasy silence in a shared room on our short-lived journey of horror.

“Wishes or commands?” I clarified, mostly to distract myself with teasing Mirelda, since I had never heard Draven wish for anything.

She pursed her lips in confirmation. I actually did need to talk to him when we were not in his bed twelve seconds after waking up to memories of corpses, so I didn’t argue. It had nothing to do with the pull of his mana, dragging me in like a forcefield.

Besides, the people did need comfort. Even the horrible Lady Thessara had exclaimed loudly, many times, that she wouldn’t be caught dead in the courtyard after all the monsters.

Though a small part of me wished she would be caught dead in the courtyard, mostly I empathized with her fear.

These aren’t really your people , I reminded myself.

Being Queen still didn’t feel real or permanent. Somewhere deep inside, I knew the day would come when the ice would crack beneath my feet and I would be lost in the churning depths below.

I felt it the way I felt Draven’s mana crackling against my skin, intrinsic and unavoidable.

Nevertheless, I waited for him in our shared foyer an hour later, with my wolf and my skathryn.

I hadn’t wanted to risk him coming into my rooms today when the marriage bond was already so desperate for our proximity.

He emerged exactly on time, flanked by his wolves, and dressed in a deep blue coat with silver accents the exact shade of my gown.

We really were going for a whole unity thing today, then.

His winterswept hair was combed into place, no longer having the audacity to fall onto his brow, and there wasn’t a single trace of his nightmares on his sculpted features.

His gaze swept over me, assessing me in a single glance that hummed along my skin. Or maybe that was his power. It hummed in the air with a feeling I couldn’t decipher.

Batty fluttered at my side, each beat of her wings raining snow flurries onto Lumen’s head. Draven raised his eyebrows, but said nothing as he offered me his arm.

I took it, trying not to feel the swells of disloyalty low in my gut as I warred with all the versions of him vying for dominance in my soul. He was warm, even through the sleeve of his coat. Cold in every other way.

His voice was clipped when he finally spoke. “Eryx told me about the villagers.”

Batty hissed at him from my shoulder, and I shared her sentiments.

“Well, short of locking them out and watching them freeze to death in the snow, there was nowhere else for them to go.” I regretted the words as soon as they left my lips, careless in my defensiveness.

Of course, Draven didn’t flinch, or give any indication that I had thrown his mind back to a frozen battlefield. Not that he ever would.

I cleared my throat, continuing in a more even tone.

“I planned on finding them places in the local villages, so they can start rebuilding their lives. I’m just waiting to hear back from the soldiers.”

He nodded. “Yes, he mentioned that, too. It…wasn’t a criticism. You handled the situation as well as could be expected.”

His lips twisted like it had physically pained him to admit that. It took me a heartbeat too late to realize that he was paying me a compliment, or at the very least, giving his approval.

I didn’t know what to do with that. It was a far cry from every interaction we had held about my title thus far, where he was so very fond of telling me how useless I was.

I let out a low scoff of disbelief, only half mocking when I asked, “Are you saying…that I have qualities worthy of my title ?”

Did he remember the words spat in my face the night after the first court dinner?

He glared down at me. “No. I wouldn’t go that far. Just–”

He never got to qualify his denial, since we were both distracted by a pulsing vibration. From my ring, directly against his bicep. His body tensed, and he fixed his gaze resolutely ahead, footsteps never faltering.

“I see,” I said drily, while Lumen barked out what sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

A bit of unwanted pride surged in my chest. Only weeks ago I would have rather died than live up to his particular expectations for a ruler, and I hadn’t forgotten his cruelty. Even he knew what kind of fae he was.

I am not the hero. He had said the words without a single trace of shame.

But it was hard to be trapped in someone’s nightmares, then wake up and call them a monster.

Still, I wondered what it said about me that I didn’t quite hate him anymore.

And what my family would say if they saw me here, walking arm in arm with their executioner.

Nevara didn’t come for me after breakfast.

Never once in the entirety of the time I had known her, had she failed to show up where she said she would be.

I waited in my rooms for an extra hour after Draven walked me back, pacing the floors and watching the sun rise in the sky. Anxiety clawed at my chest.

I hadn’t been fazed when she wasn’t at breakfast. Draven and I had eaten at a table set for two, visible to the ladies and lords, but not subjected to them. It wasn’t a formal meal, and Nevara spent plenty of time avoiding the court. I hadn’t questioned her absence.

But she was never late. So finally, I decided to go to her.

I had never seen her rooms, but Lumen led the way. Apparently, she hadn’t been joking about her tower, since he brought me to the highest turret in the most remote part of the castle.

Up and up we climbed, one spiraling staircase after another, until Lumen came to a halt outside an arched door made of pale, gleaming wood.

Nevara opened before I could knock. Her hair was pulled up in an intricate style, her gown as immaculate as ever, but her face was drawn, her usual unearthly glimmer nowhere to be found.

“Does anyone ever surprise you?” My tongue tripped over the words that were nowhere near what I wanted to ask.

She stepped back, opening the door wider to allow me entry. “I wouldn’t go right to surprise, but Soren does occasionally put me off guard with the things he’s willing to utter aloud.”

The words were forced. She didn’t smile, or even twitch her lips, which only made the talons of dread pierce deeper into my spine.

I stepped slowly into the room without responding.

I hadn’t been sure what to expect from Nevara’s suites. Something cold and austere, like the rest of the palace? But this room stood in complete opposition to the rest of the palace.

Sunlight streamed in from windows in the vaulted ceiling, basking the room in warmth. Her bed was low to the ground, layered in thick velvets and furs that looked all the more inviting for someone who spent most of her life wading through other people’s tragedies.

Pale wooden furniture curved in rounded arcs, every edge smoothed. I watched her run her fingers along them as she moved without the help of her staff. Anchors, I realized after a moment. Markers for her to feel without the need to see.

Shelves wrapped along each wall, stocked with books embossed in raised script, and rune-carved stones that whispered the contents as she traced the spines. One muttered something about blood vows before Nevara snapped her fingers to silence it.

It wasn’t a room designed to impress. It was a sanctuary. A haven for someone who didn’t need sight to know every corner, every sound, every spell.

And it was perfect.

“This is…” I swallowed. “Not what I expected.”

“I’d be disappointed if it were.” Though she made an effort at her usual dry tone, something in her voice fell flat.

I opened my mouth, likely to ask something far too blunt about why she was still in her tower, but she spoke before I could.

“Do you remember when you asked me if we would be friends?” Her voice was far away, her face still angled toward the books instead of me.

“Yes, you said you didn’t know. But here we are.” I wanted to inject my tone with levity, but her despondence had me on edge.

She smiled in a sad sort of way. “Yes. That surprised me. You surprised me. A Visionary doesn’t have friends, usually. All of my ancestors stayed here in this tower—some because they were chained, but others chose to. On days like today, I understand why.”

I swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.

“Why?” I asked quietly.

She angled herself toward me at last, squeezing her shimmering eyes shut. “Because then you care. You want to do things you shouldn’t, like cross the lines that are branded into the blood of your lineage by mana older than time itself. You want to save people you can’t.”

I sucked in a breath, trying to decipher her meaning. Had she Seen my death after all, after everything I had done to try to avoid it?

My fingers trembled while I placed them on her arm, trying to comfort us both.

“The future isn’t linear, Nevara. You told me that. I’m still standing here, against the odds.”

A breath escaped her, something close to a sob. Shining tears sparkled in her eyes, like drops of pure starlight sent from the Shard Mother herself. Ethereally beautiful and impossibly sad.

She sucked in a breath, closing her hand over mine. “No, the future is not linear. But this was the only way that I could See. I hope that you’ll remember that.”

Remember that…

I couldn’t remember anything if I was dead, but what else could possibly have her this shaken when she had spent a lifetime balancing the weight of lives and a kingdom on a scale that never quite settled out?

Unless it had never been about me.

“Nevara…”

She went rigid, her eyes swirling with shimmering light, faster than I had ever seen.

Then she stumbled forward, and I tightened my grasp on her arm to keep her from sinking to her knees.

Her hand fell away from mine, clenching into a slim fist as she shook her head back and forth.

Whatever she was Seeing, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

But I was sure that I needed to know.

Finally, the swirling stopped. She stood straighter, gently stepping out of my grasp. Her face was pure grief when she finally inhaled to speak.

“Thistlerun Keep has fallen. The monsters have taken it.”

Just like that, I felt it. The cracking of the ice. The raging river below, already dragging me under.

But I had been wrong. So, so wrong. Fate wasn’t coming for me.

It was coming for my sister.