Page 71 of Return of the Darkness (The Lost Kingdom Saga #3)

Sadira

T he lords recommended a public funeral for Caellum, but Sadira had resisted, only wanting herself and Sir Cain to say goodbye.

They had compromised. While there was no public burial, the people had an opportunity to pay their respects, though it was more of an opportunity for them to see Sadira as queen after keeping their wedding private.

Despite the complicated history of his family, people seemed to mourn Caellum.

Many citizens bowed their heads, with others wiping away their tears.

The three women he had saved from the soldiers in Antor had stayed the longest, standing against the back wall with their heads lowered in respect.

That was Sadira’s other compromise—a public coronation.

But one step at a time. Therefore, much to Sadira’s grief-stricken horror, she stood on the raised platform at the end of the throne room, watching people slowly trickling past Caellum’s coffin before leaving through the other door.

Sir Cain smiled from where he stood at the opposite end of the hall, manning the entrance.

His silver armour, highly polished, almost showed her reflection.

They counted the hours until sunset, where they would eventually bid farewell to Caellum.

Swallowing her tears, Sadira clasped her hands and peered down at her dress rather than the many passing faces.

Most pitied her, though some watched with intrigue.

Many of the older citizens seemed displeased at Sadira’s crown, having ascended to the throne without a large audience.

She smoothed over the deep green silk on her stomach and hips, the gown tumbling into a waterfall of fabric at her feet.

From afar, it appeared black, though its true colour was clear up close.

She peered down at her dress and chest, where Caellum’s gold wedding band hung around her neck—cold.

It sat below the talisman that had become hers in his death.

Ever since she draped it over her head that morning, her power itched beneath her skin.

Sadira had always been powerful, but part of her wanted to test this rise in magic—to grow a forest through the throne room and cast everyone out.

Instead, she sighed. Only Sadira remained for her realm, and she would not let Caellum down.

Though she would refuse to find a new fairytale—his last request was one she would ignore.

One day, she would argue with him about it.

“Your majesty,” whispered a quiet voice below.

Sadira regained her focus and flashed a tight smile at Athena.

“May I offer my condolences?” A cane trembled under her hand as she inclined her head to the right, a silent request. Sadira nodded and lifted her skirts, descending the wooden steps.

Athena scanned her from head to toe as she did, far more intrigued than usual.

“While I hated his family for what they did, I truly am sorry for your loss,” she said.

Sadira tensed and clenched her hands tighter.

“It was not their fault.” Athena tilted her head curiously, and Sadira’s next words were spoken with unusual bitterness. “It seems you are not blessed with as much information and foresight as you thought.”

“Regardless of what I do or did not know, I cannot intervene and change paths. You know that.” Athena kept her voice quiet.

“And as tragic as this path is for you, you must accept it. Your people need you to.” Sadira’s eyes burned furiously as she assessed the old Wiccan.

When Athena winced, Sadira’s misplaced anger faded.

“Please sit, Athena,” Sadira said. The old woman waved a gnarled hand.

“I may be fading away, but I still have my dignity. I won’t sit in front of a grieving queen.” Sadira admired her strength, and a genuine smile marked her lips, even if it was small and short-lived.

“I saw my grandmother,” Sadira whispered. Athena, who usually showed little emotion, leaned forward, her eyes watering.

“You were on the Isle of Gods?” Athena breathed.

“You know of it?”

Athena shook her head. “More memories have returned since the kingdom began crumbling, but only snippets of names, conversation, and places. Not enough to be of assistance—yet.” Athena was quiet for a moment. “Was she okay?”

“She was reunited with Errard. She was okay.” Sadira smiled.

“And you will be okay again, too, your majesty. One day, you will glow from within and light the way for this realm, wherever we end up.” Athena reached for the queen’s hand and patted it.

“Remember, you still owe me a secret.” She smirked before turning to leave the queen in peace.

Sadira watched the old woman hobble towards the door and hurried after her.

“Athena,” she called, prompting the Wiccan woman to turn. Sadira stooped to whisper in her ear. Athena squeezed the queen’s hand.

“A good secret.”

***

“I appreciate this isn’t traditional for a death in Garridon, the lack of celebrating life,” Sir Cain said. Sadira placed a gentle hand on his trembling arm.

“It’s exactly what he would have wanted,” Sadira choked.

Sir Cain and her personal guard, Taryn, lowered the coffin into the ground.

Taryn nodded, the grief in his eyes matching the day she had returned to the castle once leaving the Unsanctioned Isle.

From the look on her face, he had immediately known she returned to Garridon alone.

Taryn walked through the long blades of grass towards the treeline, offering Sir Cain and Sadira a moment of peace.

The sun set behind them, bathing the gravestones in a soft orange hue.

Nine gravestones: a son and a brother, returned to his family.

Sadira knelt before Caellum’s coffin and blinked, filling the grave with soil until it formed a light mound.

Unstrapping his breastplate, Sir Cain removed his armour until he donned plain clothes. He knelt beside his queen.

“I don’t think you will ever know how grateful I am for what you did for him,” Sir Cain said gruffly.

Sadira turned to face him. His red hair had faded in the two months of their absence.

“He was such an anxious lad with no confidence, except with those he trusted, like me, Elisara, and his siblings. The man who stood before his people at his coronation, and the man at his engagement ball, were two different people.” Sir Cain smiled, a watery sheen in his eyes.

“That was all you. He became confident because of you and his want to protect you. It was always his nature. He loved fiercely.”

“He did,” Sadira whispered, reaching for Sir Cain’s hand.

They knelt in silence as they thought of their beloved king.

“He asked me to pass on a message to you when he was…” Sadira trailed off, unable to voice the words that he was gone.

Sir Cain frowned. “When we were on the Isle of Gods, he saw his family. All of them were so happy—normal. Wren was the man he was when you truly knew him.” Sir Cain pinched his brow and closed his eyes.

Sadira sniffed. “Wren wanted to say thank you for being a father to Caellum and his children when he couldn’t be.

” Sir Cain’s shoulders rose and fell as he sobbed into his hands.

Sadira rubbed his back until he grunted and lifted his head, wiping his face clean of tears.

“It was my honour,” Sir Cain said. “As it will be to serve the Mordane-Balfour household.” Smiling, he glanced down at Sadira with the knowledge of the secret she had only shared with him and Athena.

“I will leave you with him,” Sir Cain said.

“Taryn can keep watch. I need some time alone.” Sadira nodded as Sir Cain rested a hand on the grave before walking away.

The evening breeze floated through the grass as Sadira sat back on her heels with a sigh, struggling to find the words.

“Tell Aurelia I accepted the offer of her gowns.” Sadira’s laughter soon turned into sobs, trying to mask her pain beneath pretences.

“The jewels were too extravagant, though, so please tell your mother I’m sorry.

” Sadira sniffed and rested her palms on the soil.

She encouraged blades of grass to grow through it to match the rest of the long lawn surrounding the other eight gravestones.

“I think I hate you a little bit,” she whispered.

“For leaving me to face all this alone. But I know you would be here if you could be.” Sadira looked along the grassy field to where Taryn watched from behind the trees.

She would have to flee Novisia soon, leaving the Balfour family here.

An ache reopened in her chest every time she thought of being apart from Caellum.

With a flourish of her hand, white irises and sweet peas sprouted across the grass—sweet peas for goodbye, and to recognise Elisara’s support after receiving numerous letters from her over the last week, and irises for new beginnings—a new life without her love.

One day, if she survived all this, she would replicate the walled garden and place nine new headstones within it.

She would sit beside a lake under a willow tree and speak to her lost family every morning.

She thought of Soren then, but she pushed the thought aside.

She had heard nothing from Soren since Nyzaia claimed her as a citizen of Keres.

She hoped it stayed that way. She felt nothing but hatred when she pictured Soren’s face, even if her expression matched the innocence of when they were children.

To avoid letting thoughts of Soren, no longer her sister, from ruining her time with Caellum, Sadira buried her anger and betrayal deep within her chest and locked it away.

“I don’t know your favourite flowers,” Sadira whispered, guiding the vines over each gravestone.

“But I need there to be some colour to these stones while you live without it.” Sadira thought of Caellum in Antor’s walled garden, playing hide and seek with his sisters under the sepia-brushed sky.

“These flowers are not meant to be on vines, but I’ll make it work,” Sadira whispered, allowing tiny, delicate blue flowers to bloom across the gravestones.

“Forget-me-nots.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she shuffled closer to Caellum’s grave.

“I don’t think you need to ask what these represent.

” She clenched her eyes shut before wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve and resting a palm atop the stone.

The flowers perfectly bordered the words engraved on it.

Here lies Caellum Balfour, protector of all he loved.

A king, son, brother, husband, and father.

Sadira rose, resting her hand on her stomach and the womb she knew had grown life since their wedding day.

With a final tear, Sadira raised her head, ready to be crowned Queen of Garridon and ensure her children lived in a safe world.

Turning to face the sunset and return to the castle, she sent a silent I love you to the sky.

Had she looked up, she would have found nine hawks perched in the trees, watching over her and the last of the Balfour and Mordane line.