Page 10

Evelina

After grinding the feverfew leaves and replenishing their jars, Evelina cleaned up the quiet healing room. It was so late in the evening that the other healers were likely in bed or on a night trip to one of the camps. She straightened a few mortars and pestles and called it a night. The corridor that she stepped into was quiet but filled with a soft, warm glow that the palace provided at all times. This was one of the rare occasions where the palace felt like it used to—safe and cozy. She could almost pretend it wasn’t the place of discomfort and worry that it had turned into. It made her want to turn around and go back into the infirmary, to soak up the last dregs of comfort within these walls.

Walking through the empty halls, she neared a private door to the throne room. It was cracked open, enough to see a sliver inside, and she could hear the council in session on the other side. The meetings weren’t a secret , but she never went to them. It wasn’t where her talents were best suited. She was the fourth in line with the weakest magic, leaving her to serve her realm by healing. And taking a fae consort chosen for her when the day came. That was something she had no control over—arguably the biggest decision in her life was to be made by someone else .

Evelina had always resented that Manors were the only royal fae line, but the human rulers used to be elected by the empire. It was how Moros was able to squeeze his way onto the throne. He was just a simple farmer before he became king; after quickly gaining attraction from his alluring speeches and promises of maintaining peace, he won the votes of the humans to be the next king.

A fae’s immortality didn’t grant them their life to rule, only the life span of the human monarch they shared the empire with. Otherwise, the Eternal Crown would never tie itself to a new fae. But now that the human monarch wasn’t someone they shared the crown with, it remained with the Manor ruler, only changing to each predecessor by death of the fae wearing it, or by abdication. The land needed strength replenished, slowly draining each fae who wore it until the moment it left them.

It kept their land safe—strong. Which meant the Manors had to be strong, too.

Love was an afterthought to Evelina’s family. Their duty was to breed heirs with their chosen fae consorts. How was that fair? All in the name of a pure fae lineage, she supposed.

Voices filtered through the crack in the wooden door, and just as she was about to continue on, she heard a deeply familiar voice. She pressed in closer to get a better look. She had to rotate at an awkward angle to see the room through the small crack in the door. The entire council had already gathered. All three of her siblings were present and accounted for, seated in order from eldest to youngest—with a notably empty seat at the end, where she should be. Carwyn, seated at the front with her sandy blonde hair pulled into a tight bun on the top of her head. Ren to her right, his long hair brushing his shoulders as he leaned over to whisper to Carwyn. He wore soldier leathers—though he tended to more often than not since joining the naval fleet on the western coast. Lastly, there was Lyria—soft and gentle Lyria. She was older than Evelina, but could easily be mistaken for the youngest .

The rest of the council was there too. Keir, the Aegis council head and member of the alpha aerial legion; Seretha, the Undine council head; and Maliena and Neve, leaders of the Nocturna.

She spotted a broad-chested soldier in his naval uniform sitting in the second row of chairs—dark blue leathers with gold thread sewn into the cuffs of his sleeves. His hair was tied back in its usual low knot and his skin was slightly tanner since she had last seen him.

Senna. She smiled, glad that her friend was home. He had only been gone a few months, but he was close with all the Manors, returning often from commanding the naval fleets to bring reports back to the palace.

And another soldier, too—possibly a commander or high-ranking officer from the looks of it—one she didn’t recognize. He was standing at the front of the table, everyone’s rapt attention fixed on what he was saying.

Something hot curled in her core when she looked at him.

His frame was filled out from what had to be years of training, his face shadowed with a beard that hadn’t been trimmed. Her eyes trailed down the expanse of his broad shoulders, down his muscular back and trimmed waist. He still wore his uniform, light armor made of black wyvern scales, and a thick metal plate covering his left shoulder and crossing down to his right side to protect his chest. A Rider.

His body was perfectly toned from years of training. She couldn’t see his thighs from where she was standing, but she could guess that they were just as strong as the rest of his body.

So strong that he could probably pin her to the ground and?—

“Nice of you to join us, Princess Evelina.” Seretha’s sharp voice snapped her attention back to the present.

Everyone in the room turned to look at her and her cheeks flared red. The heat that had filled her core vanished and turned into embarrassment.

“Care to join?” the soldier added .

She opened the door and stepped in, having no other option after getting caught. She looked anywhere but at the soldier she had just been caught staring at. Which was a mistake, seeing as Carwyn was smiling brightly at her.

“She’d love to join.” Carwyn motioned for her to take a seat.

If Evelina made an excuse about being too tired, or having healing duties to attend to, no one would be surprised—likely wouldn’t even try to stop her. But without her approval, her feet were moving, pulled forward by the curiosity of seeing what this soldier was here to say.

“The rebels have been growing in strength and numbers, the attack on Nox Grove?—”

The door shut behind her and made a loud snap as it closed. The soldier stopped talking and glanced up at her. He looked as if he had just been in battle, his face smeared with dirt and hair askew.

“Sorry,” she muttered, finding an open seat in the back instead of next to Lyria. The Rider’s eyes followed her to her seat, his gaze lingering. She tried to ignore the way he was affecting her; she shouldn’t be thinking about any of the soldiers in this way, not when her consort would one day be chosen for her.

“The rebels have been aiming to take the crown for decades now and are growing more bold. With the attack on Drogheda and the grove, the tides are changing,” the soldier continued.

The Woodland queen hummed, drawing the attention of the room. She shook her head and said, “Or they’re growing desperate. Perhaps it isn’t boldness that’s making their moves now, but a need for this to end.”

Others echoed their agreement. Queen Embry stood, switching places with the soldier to stand at the front. Evelina’s eyes wandered to where the soldier took his seat beside Keir. His back was to her, and his dark hair was long and unkempt.

“Evelina.” Her mother’s voice cut through the room. “Do you agree with your siblings?”

Evelina’s face heated as every head in the packed room swiveled toward her. It heated further when the soldier slowly spun around with an unreadable face. He was looking at her again . She shifted in her seat, flustered beneath the heat of his gaze.

There was something familiar about him.

“Agree?” She knew better than to blindly agree without knowing what it was she was agreeing to.

“That we need to focus on restoring the faith of the crown,” the Rider offered, his voice somehow smooth and rough at the same time.

Evelina shot him a look, not quite a smile, for saving her the embarrassment of admitting she hadn’t been listening. Only his face was smug, annoyingly amused.

“May I?” he asked. Queen Embry nodded, giving him the floor again. “We’ve yet to discover new information on the rebels.” His voice rang through the room. “And we can’t win against an opponent that we don’t know. The realm knows that—otherwise, we would’ve put a stop to this years ago.”

He paused and took his time to meet the gazes of everyone in the room. His face was calm, his voice even and strong. “I’ve seen the defeat that weighs on everyone’s shoulders.” He paused again. “On the villagers that are relocated after an attack, on the soldiers that haven’t had a reprieve since the war started.”

Evelina could agree with that. The refugees she visited seemed to have long given up the spark of fight within them.

Carwyn stood, her angular, foxlike face stoic as her icy blue eyes flicked around the room, confident in every muscle she moved. Ren stood with her, the only other Manor sibling who had a chance at the throne. But Carwyn was eldest, and the only sibling to have two affinities, making her the obvious front-runner as the next fae ruler.

Carwyn cleared her throat and turned to Keir. “The progress to fully squash this rebellion has stalled for quite some time.”

Keir nodded, every bit an Aegis. His skin was riddled with scars and burns. He had been a council head longer than any of the others, his experience invaluable.

“Progress has been slow in making any significant gains,” he said in a gravelly voice.

Silence fell over the room, a reminder of what had been lost.

Carwyn broke the tension. “We need a secret weapon, something that the rebels won’t see coming. We need an edge.”

Keir leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees, a jagged scar along his neck stretching as he tilted his head. “And what is this secret weapon?”

“We’ll know it when we find it,” said Carwyn firmly. “Eurydice will make sure of it.”

Keir burst into laughter, joined by other council members.

“What you’re saying is, we should find a secret weapon, but you don’t know what that weapon is?” Keir’s eyes danced with amusement.

Carwyn raised her chin, refusing to be belittled by the Aegis leader. She was the most brilliant fae that Evelina knew, her strength matching her cleverness. It was the thing that set her apart from the rest of Evelina’s siblings. Ren was nearly as strong, but Carwyn was far more calculated. It was the only reason Keir still allowed her to speak.

“The Goddess of the Moon always provides,” she said without hesitation. “We need only to be steadfast in our faith.”

Evelina had always admired Carwyn’s confidence in Eurydice. When everyone seemed to doubt the goddess who watched over them, Carwyn was firm in her belief that they had not been abandoned. But Evelina had seen a lot of lives lost and too many people uprooted from their homes, forced to relocate to overcrowded refugee camps. It was hard for her to stay as confident as Carwyn more days than she could count.

Keir cleared his throat, bringing the attention of the room to him. “The losses were heavy during the attack on the edge of Drogheda. They killed our flight’s healer as he was tending to the injured. ”

The other Rider nodded his head, a deep frown tilting his mouth down. “We’ll need a new one quickly. Especially if the rebels keep pushing further past the border.”

“Healers shouldn’t be a target on the battlefield,” Maliena hissed. Neve placed an arm around her, grunting in agreement with his wife.

Senna shifted his weight and said, “Perhaps we should instead station the healers at the camps. We’re too overwhelmed on the battlefield now to protect them, and we can’t afford to lose any more.”

The queen turned, her gaze landing on Evelina. “Two of the best healers in the realm reside in the palace,” she said slowly. Heads turned, following the path of her gaze. “Gloriana and Evelina have been working with refugees for years.”

Queen Embry paused, pulling her gaze away from Evelina, redirecting it firmly toward Keir. “They will accompany the Alpha Fleet as their healers on the border.”

Keir bowed his head. “It would be our honor to host them.”

Evelina blinked. Her mother was already going over the details with Keir and the other Rider, but Evelina couldn’t hear her. Her pulse pounded—from fear of being on the border or exhilaration from being able to heal in such a way, she wasn’t sure.

The Rider beside Keir was watching her, his eyes widening a fraction.

“We’ll keep them further from active battles,” Keir assured the queen. “Perhaps to tend to the survivors after.”

The soldier’s face was blank again, but a muscle ticked in his jaw. “The princess may not be the best healer to utilize.”

Queen Embry’s eyes narrowed at him. “She and Gloriana have worked in tandem for years,” she said sharply. “We all have a duty in this war.”

Evelina was being sent to heal on the border. Not asked by her mother, but commanded by the queen. She often felt the crown’s heavy weight more than her mother’s tenderness .

“It’s greatly appreciated, Queen Embry.” Keir nodded and turned to the Rider. “We leave after first light tomorrow, Daimon.”

It was as if Evelina had been hit with a boulder; the wind knocked out of her instantly with a single name. A name she’d been avoiding for twenty years.

Because it couldn’t be him. He couldn’t be here .

Her blood drained from her face, her breath catching. She knew why the Rider felt so familiar now.

He glanced at her, only for a moment. She could see it then—a face she didn’t recognize right away—but the midnight eyes… They were his .

Her once closest companion. The one who had always been there when she needed him. If she called, he would answer.

Until the day he didn’t.

It had been nearly twenty years since he’d left the palace. Since he had left her without an explanation or even a goodbye. She dreamed of seeing him again so she could yell at him for leaving so quickly—so she could demand to know why he left the way he did, without ever returning.

But sitting here, looking into the eyes of a man that didn’t reflect the boy she once knew, she was frozen. Her heart raced with excitement at seeing her old friend again, mixed with a heated anger that he’d left in the first place—a wound that never quite healed.

There was a time when she would have killed to have the chance to speak with him again, but things were different now— he was different now. This Daimon’s smile was harder, joyless—cruel, almost. His voice was different, too—devoid of emotion even within the lilt of his tease. There was no crinkle in the corners of his eyes, no real smile. His smirk was just as emotionless as his eyes.

The war had changed him the moment it sank its teeth into his heart. The once kind eyes had hardened, so much so that she had to stare at him for a moment to be sure it was really him.

The Daimon she knew died the day he left.

She didn’t hear anything else that was being said. She wanted to bolt out of the room, to run and hide in the infirmary. But she also couldn’t look away from him.

He was here. She would have to work with him for the foreseeable future. And she had no idea what to do with that.

Because truthfully, it didn’t matter that he had changed. Because war hadn’t just hit him—in the time he’d left, it had ravaged her people, her home, her family.

He wasn’t the only one who had changed.

The day he left, the Evelina he knew died too.