Page 31

M y palms are slick with sweat as I peer in the window. A woman stands inside, her roots pale against the dark brown of the ends of her hair. Her eyes shine—pale blue, unnervingly bright. She leaves the room for a moment, and my gaze catches the kettle on the wood-burning stove. I can put half the vial in the kettle—that should surely kill her.

Guilt races through my body, making me shake like a leaf rattled by the wind. What if she didn’t do this crime? I don’t have a choice. The lethal Captain of the Guard is right behind me, watching my every move.

When she doesn’t return, I slip quietly through the window, creeping toward the stove. I pour half the vial into the kettle, tucking the rest into my pocket. The whistle of the kettle pierces the silence, and panic grips me as I hear her footsteps returning. My heart slams against my ribs, so loud I fear it will give me away. I crouch behind the couch, pressing myself low to the floor.

I try to slow my breathing, so it is not heard. Breath shallow, I will myself to stay still as her steps reverberate through the room. She walks past the couch, each step a thunderous beat in my ears. I hear the familiar sound of the liquid being poured into a cup. Tears prick my eyes as my throat constricts. I have always had the capacity for violence—my time in the Hollows proves that. But those I killed deserved it. I don’t know if she does.

I hear her gulping down the tea, then the clank of it being set on the table. The sound echoes, final.

“Come out, Lavender. I know you’re there,” she calls out.

My breath catches. Heart thundering in my throat, I rise, pulling my dagger from its sheath.

“There’s no need for all that.” Her voice is steady, calm. “I drank the Silent Surrender. But if it makes you feel better, just… Please make it quick.”

Coming around from behind the couch, I approach the table. Her beautifully pale eyes track my every movement. “You knew I put it in there? And still drank it?”

She puts her hand out, gesturing for me to take a seat at the table with her. I look at her wearily. Hesitation halts me for a moment, but I sheath my dagger and have a seat.

“How did you know the poison was in there? How did you know I was here? How do you know my name?” So many questions shift around the corners of my mind. I bounce my leg nervously under the table, waiting for her response.

“I am a blood wielder, right?” she asks with a playfully sarcastic voice.

I nod, uneasy at her lightness.

“It is fate,” she murmurs. “I saw it. I am not afraid to die, rather I am afraid to live. I’m afraid to be captured and used for evil.” She sucks in a deep breath. “I am afraid to lose my loved ones for not surrendering to the kingdom. I gladly accepted this fate as I hid my family.” She grabs her stomach, grunting, leaning over the top of the table for a second before righting herself. “I am one of the most powerful blood wielders around here, one stupid move…” She shakes her head guiltily. “And I was caught. I refused to serve the King or the princess. I escaped once, but I knew it would end here.”

Sweat kisses my upper lip and hairline as I continue to bounce my leg, drumming my fingers on her chipped wooden table, which reminds me of one from my childhood. “You didn’t see that you would be caught?”

She shakes her head with a rueful smile. “I am not all-knowing. I only get fragments—glimpses of possibilities. But eventually, I realized this was the path fate has chosen for me.”

“Did you summon the Necrums?” I stare into her pale blue eyes, waiting for her to respond.

Her expression sobers as she shakes her head. My chest tightens, the truth stabbing deeper than I expected—she had nothing to do with the attack. She’s innocent. The weight of that knowledge splinters my heart.

“Do you know who summoned them and how?” I whisper, guilt-filled tears prick my eyes.

She nods but breaks into a violent cough. Blood flies from her lips, splattering the table as her hand presses against her stomach again. She doubles over, a crimson flood spilling from her lips, splashing across the floor with a sickening echo that eclipses the sound of my heart shattering.

I leap from my seat as she crumples from the chair into the spreading pool of blood. It pours from her mouth, nose, and ears, each ragged breath more labored than the last.

Oh, gods, what have I done?

Tears spill down my face as I pull her into my lap, smearing blood across the floor and all over me as I begin to cradle her. “Don’t cry for me child. I knew and accepted this. I know.” She begins to cough up more blood. “I know what’s in your heart.”

“I’m so sorry,” I sob, unable to stop the tears spilling down my face. “What’s your name?”

Her breathing grows shallow, a wet gurgling accompanying every inhale and exhale.

“Sage—It’s Sage,” she chokes out. “Don’t tell them that you know. Don’t tell anyone you know the truth. Promise me…”

I can’t form words, so I nod.

“Remember… when seeking vengeance in the name of justice,” she draws a sharp breath, “one risks crossing the line into darkness.” Her eyes bore into mine as if she sees everything—my past, my future, every secret I’ve tried to bury. It’s unsettling.

“I know…” Blood spills from her eyes, trickling down her cheeks in crimson rivers. The sight burns itself into my memory—a everlasting scar etched into my soul. A permanently haunting reminder of this tragic moment. “I know what you truly are.”

“What do you mean?” My voice cracks. Her gaze shifts, glazing over with lifeless clarity. Her eyes remain open, but they will never see again.

A sob tears from my throat, shaking my entire frame. I cradle her body, pressing her limp form to me as if I could keep her soul tethered to this continent. A heart-wrenching scream claws its way from my chest, raw and broken. The weight of what I’ve done crushes me, smothering me under its enormity. Guilt wraps around me like a noose, squeezing tighter with every breath. Rocking her in my arms, I’m suffocating. I can’t breathe, the air is stifling with guilt and lies.

A touch on my shoulder jolts me. I twist around to see Lukene crouching beside me, his eyes scanning the blood wielder’s lifeless form. His hand moves gently along my back in soothing strokes, but I can’t tell if his touch brings comfort or burns with the knowledge he might have known all along. Did he know she was innocent? I want to ask, but the promise I made to her binds my tongue. A fresh wave of tears breaks free. I don’t know what to believe—don’t know who to trust.

“Reign,” Lukene whispers gently. I look into his green eyes, full of worry. “She is gone, Reign. We need to leave…” His hand brushes my arm, a soft but insistent pull. I loosen my grip, but my hands refuse to let go.

I clutch her tighter, rocking her lifeless body as I shake my head.

“Would you like to say the prayer? We can burn her... send her to the next life.”

Why would he offer kindness now? I nod, though my voice abandons me. It’s the least we can do. Lukene shifts, lifting her fragile, lifeless body into his arms and carrying her outside.

He lays her gently in the garden out back, where the flowers have already withered under the weight of autumn’s chill. His expectant gaze meets mine, waiting for me to speak and recite the prayer, but the words stick in my throat. I can’t find my voice, not even to send her to the next life.

“May the Mother of gods and goddesses cradle you, comfort you, and welcome you home to the eternal land of milk and honey when you are veiled in the shadows.” Lukene’s voice is flat, his expression unchanging.

“May the Mother…” My voice cracks as I summon my power into my palm, the magic heating my hand before it ignites her body. Flames spread quickly, consuming her in a bright blaze.

Neighbors gather, drawn by the fire, murmuring in shock.

“This woman was a blood wielder. She summoned a herd of Necrums to attack the Drifts. Do not shed tears on a traitor to the crown.” His authoritative voice booms over the sniffles, chattering, and the crackling fire.

I grit my teeth, swallowing the truth. She wasn’t guilty. She summoned no one. But I swore to her, and I can’t betray her, even now.

And with that, Lukene gently grasps my arm, pulling me to stand. He wraps his arm over my shoulders as he guides me away from the innocent woman I just murdered. She gladly gave up her life rather than work for the crown.

* * *

The carriage waits for us by the stone wall. The ride home passes in silence, neither of us daring to speak. Lost in thought, I sink deeper into the storm of guilt and regret swirling inside me.

Once in my room, I head straight for the washroom. The hot water scalds my skin, but I scrub harder, desperate to wash away the blood, the guilt, the lies. I slip into a nightgown and crawl into bed, hoping sleep might grant me a reprieve.

A knock sounds at the door just as I close my eyes. I sit up, calling for whoever it is to enter.

Sasha steps inside, a plum-colored robe draped over her arm. “Lilyana wants you to come with me.”

“Where are we going?” I ask, tossing the blanket aside and sliding out of bed.

“Here, put this on.” Sasha helps me into the robe, handing me matching slippers with a playful grin. “It’s a surprise!”

A spark of excitement dances in her eyes, and I allow myself a small smile.

“Well, lead the way.” I gesture toward the door. This is exactly what I need, a distraction, anything not to be alone—caged in my own haunted mind.

We walk through long, quiet corridors until we reach a grand room.

The room smells of florals and other plants, a tribute to Lilyana’s plant magic. It’s adorned with shades of green and other earthy tones, a testament to her lively yet grounded nature. There is a vibrant and welcoming fire in an alabaster stone fireplace, which is reminiscent of Lilyana’s warm and boldly bright traits. The flame’s light dances across everything it touches, mirroring Lilyana’s memorable and impactful personality. There are oak shelves that stand tall and sturdy as her unwavering love for her friends and family does. The shelves are stocked full of colorful books which are her favorite keys to escapism in her rarely dull moments of courtly life.

A massive canopy bed is off in the corner, covered with green luxurious blankets, with two cots neatly arranged nearby. Near the bed is a robust oak desk filled with wines, flowers, and foods.

Lilyana jumps up off the bed as we enter, holding a bottle of wine. “Oh, good! You are here! We are having a sleepover in my room tonight. We need to celebrate your victory.” She giggles. Her cheeks are flush like she has already been sampling her array of wines.

“Here,” she says, handing Sasha an ivy-green robe, matching nightgown, and slippers. “Go change in the washroom and then join us.” Sasha takes the garments with a smile and disappears into the washroom.

Before I can react, Lilyana pulls me into a warm hug, wrapping her arms tightly around me. “I knew you’d win,” she whispers. “Now we can spend all the time we want together.” She releases me and flits over to the desk to pour wine into three glasses.

Sasha emerges, and Lilyana hands us each a glass. We settle onto our beds, drinking deeply. The wine is crisp, sweet, and delightfully strong.

Two bottles later, the room is filled with laughter. Lilyana stands abruptly and begins to dance, swaying her hips to music only she can hear. Sasha and I exchange amused glances.

“Oh, come on! Dance with me,” Lilyana pleads, twirling around the room. Her pink robe slips off her shoulders and lands on the leather couch by the fire. A sudden wave of heat washes over me, though whether it’s the wine or the fire, I’m not sure. I shrug off my robe, and Sasha does the same.

I refill our glasses, handing one to each girl. With no music but the sound of our laughter, we dance around the room, carefree and weightless. For the first time in a long while, joy fills the air, unburdened by guilt or sorrow.

Lilyana spins toward her bed, stopping beside a wilting plant in a stone pot. Still dancing, she places a hand on the plant and closes her eyes. Before my eyes, it transforms—leaves turning a vibrant green, white flower blooming along the stem. She keeps going, and the vine coils up the bedpost, dotted with delicate blossoms. It’s beautiful. The scent fills the air, making me think of the perfume she bought me.

“Oh, Lilyana, I never got a chance to thank you for the perfumes, soaps, and bath oils from the day we went to the shops in town. I really love them.” I say softly.

She stops mid-dance, tilting her head in confusion. Sasha freezes beside her, an odd expression flickering across her face.

“I didn’t get you anything,” Lilyana says slowly. “You asked me not to.

Shock ripples through me. “If it wasn’t you... then who?” My gaze shifts to Sasha, who smiles mischievously, clearly knowing more than she lets on.

“What about the earrings?” I ask, trying to make sense of it.

Lilyana shakes her head. “Nope, those weren’t from me either.”

Hmm. A thought creeps in—it must have been the prince. But how would he have known what I wanted? He wasn’t with us that day.

Lilyana shrugs, downs her wine, and resumes dancing. We follow her lead, swept up in the lightness of the moment. Laughter bubbles from us as we spin and twirl. Just as we collapse into giggles, the door swings open—startling us.

Elm steps in, eyes wide. “What in the double burning hells did I just walk in on?”

We dissolve into another fit of laughter. “Here, I’ll put these on the table.” Elm sets two more bottles of wine and a tray of pastries down with a grin. “I was supposed to be guarding the corridor, but Kylo told me to grab these for you.”

Lilyana’s cheeks reddened at the mention of Kylo, the kind of red that lets me know something is going on there. I smile at the thought.

“Won’t you stay with us for a little?” I ask Elm.

“Yeah, stay,” Sasha and Lilyana say in unison.

“Just for minute,” Elm replies, though I can already tell he’ll be here longer.

I squeal with delight. “Dance with us!”

“Is that what you were trying to do?” Elm laughs, taking my hand and spinning me before dipping me low. Sasha and Lilyana attempt the same move, but Sasha fumbles and drops Lilyana, sending us all into hysterics.

“Alright, you two. How about some pastries, and maybe lay off the wine?” Elm chuckles, shaking his head. “Sasha, you might need some dance lessons in the near future.”

Sasha swats his arm playfully, grinning as she heads to the table with Lilyana.

“You seem... happy, Reign,” Elm observes, his blue eyes soft in the glow of the fire.

The truth is, in this moment, I am. The problem only comes when I’m alone. I don’t want to burden him, so I respond with, “I am.” I nod. “I really am.”

Grabbing his hand, I pull him to sit on the couch in front of the fire with me, away from the girls. “I made the poison. It is in my armoire,” I whisper.

“Reign, you need to hide it better!” His whisper sounds more like a hiss.

I grab my best friend’s hands, rubbing my thumb across the top of it. “It’s hidden well, Elm. I will be fine. We are going to be fine. We are free now. We’re living… Sort of.”

He chuckles softly at that, pulling me into a tight embrace—a brother’s hug, solid and reassuring.

“Alright, it’s girls’ night! Elm, out,” Lilyana declares with a playful grin. Elm chuckles as he rises, sauntering to the door. Before leaving, he intertwines his fingers, kisses them, and gestures toward me. I return the gesture with a smirk.

Once he’s gone, we settle on our beds. The room grows quiet for a moment until I blurt out, “Do you know what Vanna does with the orphaned children?” My voice is louder than I intended, lacking the subtlety I had hoped for.

“I honestly don’t know,” Lilyana admits, frowning. “I’ve wondered the same. She’s always willing to take the children, but I’ve never seen them leave, nor heard anything about what happens to them after.”

“Don’t you find that odd?” I ask, scrunching my brows together.

“Maybe. But maybe I just don’t pay enough attention.” Her tone shifts, unease creeping into her words. “I do find her relationship with that male blood wielder odd,” Lilyana adds.

“He gives me the creeps,” Sasha says with a shudder. “He seems... too friendly with the children.”

“I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but something feels off about Vanna,” I say cautiously.

Lilyana’s gaze sharpens, and she seems to weigh her words carefully. “I agree. She’s dangerous, Reign. Always be careful around her. If possible, don’t let her touch you—her mind magic is lethal. She can see everything in your mind... even take memories away, or plant new ones.”

A heavy silence falls between us, the air thick with tension. I clear my throat, eager to lighten the mood.

“So... what’s going on with you and Captain Kylo?” I ask, directing the very personal question to Lilyana, whose cheeks bloom a deep red.

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” she protests, though her blush betrays her.

“Liar!” Sasha cackles, nudging her playfully.

Lilyana smiles shyly. “He’s handsome and thoughtful and… I kind of like him. I swear he is my soul tie.”

“That is make believe, Lilyana,” Sasha retorts. “Soul ties aren’t real.”

“No, they are very real,” Lilyana insists. “They are rare but real.”

“What’s a soul tie?” I ask, intrigued.

“It is where the Mother, gods, and goddesses tie your soul to someone else’s. Making two individuals perfect for each other. Soul ties are literally made for each other.” She smiles. “I swear I am soul tied to Kylo. I can’t explain it. I can always sense him when he is around. When he is near… it is like nothing else matters. It’s hard to explain.” She gazes off into the distance, lost in thought, a smile brushing her lips.

Then her eyes flick back to me, and her grin turns mischievous. “What about you and my brother, Miss Reign?”

Now it’s my turn to redden. The blush heats my skin. “Absolutely nothing is going on. Honestly, I’m more likely to stab him than anything else,” I say, laughing to mask the truth—the yearning for him to open up, the memory of his kiss lingering in my mind.

“That doesn’t sound like nothing,” Lilyana says knowingly, and Sasha nods in agreement.

“I can sense it,” Lilyana continues, her voice certain. “There’s a connection between you two. It’s almost tangible. I have never seen my brother this way about… well, anyone.” I shift uncomfortably under her gaze. “My brother can be difficult, I know, but trust that I know what I am talking about. He cares for you.”

Gods and goddesses, I wish that were true. But I’m just a Drifter, a nobody. And once I kill Vanna and finally take my revenge, how will he look at me then?

“How can you be so sure?” I ask quietly.

“I can’t explain it. I have this weird sense about things and I’m always right when I feel it. Sometimes I have strange dreams, and pieces of them come true.”

“Like a blood wielder’s seer dreams?” Sasha asks.

“No, not exactly. I’m not a seer.” Lilyana frowns. “It’s more like... the answers are right on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t quite grasp them. I knew you would win the trials. I could feel it in my bones. Just like I feel the connection between you and my brother, just like I sense there is more to you than we know. I don’t know what it is, but there is something.”

Slightly disturbed by her proclamation, I clear my throat, hoping to steer the conversation away. “What about you, Sasha? Is there someone you’re seeing?”

Sasha’s grin widens. “There is, actually. His name is Chance—one of the guards.”

Lilyana laughs, tossing a pillow at her. “You dirty little courtesan! Tell us everything!”

The rest of the night passes in a blur of wine, pastries, and laughter until our sides ache and our worries fade, if only for a little while.