Page 49 of When the Wicked Sing (The Leruna Sea #1)

“‘She will be a fine ruler, but she was not meant to be the ruler of Aurelia .’ ” Ophelia’s entire body was shaking; her voice trembled as she recited what the spirits had whispered into her ears.

The darkness of the spirit realm shrouded her mind, making her blind to everything but the ethereal messages.

The familiar chill of the realm seeped into her bones, amplifying her determination.

“The king went on to tell Mariana he could help her escape, but she turned him down,” she continued, her voice tinged with confusion.

Clearing her throat, she added, “He wishes for her to keep their meeting secret from you. And then he leaves.” Ophelia took a deep, steadying breath, grateful the whispers had ceased. She braced herself for what came next.

Surging forward, she pushed her soul back into the living realm, as if stepping out of water fully clothed.

The weight of the world smothered her, while a familiar pain twisted and crippled her muscles.

She released her breath slowly, easing herself through the agony until it dispersed into nothingness.

A new scar would mark the journey, she was certain.

Already, she felt its gnarled fingers sinking deep into her right shoulder.

Lifting a white linen-glove hand, the fabric covering the discolored, mutilated flesh beneath, she rubbed the spot.

Years of entering the spirit realm had left their mark on every part of her body except her face—the price she paid for wielding her power.

It was unknown why the Generals’ descendants suffered consequences, called fallout, from using the power coursing through their veins.

The Generals themselves weren’t documented to have received any punishment.

Not even Minerva, the General of House Spirit, was ever reported to have been riddled with scars from her magic. So why were her descendants?

Some believed it was because the Gods never intended for the Generals to reproduce, and thus, their power required balance.

Others argued that the Generals’ power was so potent that they could reverse the effects of fallout.

The scholars of Aurelia had debated this endlessly, their theories filling volumes of books that lined the palace library.

Ophelia could live with the pain as long as her spirits had something important to report back. Her role was crucial, and the sacrifices she made were for the greater good. Each scar was a testament to her dedication and the heavy burden she bore for the kingdom.

The room she returned to was dimly lit; the only source of light came from the setting sun, casting long, golden shadows across the floor.

Rich tapestries adorned the stone walls, depicting the history of Aurelia’s noble line, while heavy, dark wooden furniture added a sense of weight and permanence.

The air smelled faintly of aged parchment and books, a comforting scent that reminded Ophelia of the countless hours she had spent here advising Halia.

As she blinked in bright sunlight streaming through the windows, her vision returned to normal.

She saw Halia, her beautiful princess, staring blankly out at the horizon, rays of light illuminating her stunning features.

Halia stood on the balcony, the gentle breeze playing with her dark, flowing hair, her regal posture a stark contrast to the turmoil Ophelia knew raged within her.

Ophelia stayed seated in the leather chair, silently scanning Halia’s tense body and crossed arms, waiting patiently for her to process what she had reported about the conversation between Mariana and King Stavros.

It didn’t feel right telling Halia everything.

She was already invading their privacy enough as it was, so she had chosen what to repeat carefully.

She knew the king’s words hurt Halia more than she would ever admit.

Her princess wanted to be the greatest queen this realm had ever known, yet her father failed to see her potential. The bloody fool.

Halia deserved to be queen. She had acted as regent, running the entire kingdom for the last several decades, because her father was a failure.

The king had become unreasonable and indifferent since the siren banishment.

Aurelia’s crime rate had risen, merchants were desperate for more trade goods, and citizens struggled to make the wages needed to feed their families, especially in the outer towns.

The kingdom had been descending into chaos due to his lack of concern and discipline.

Then Halia stepped up, and everything changed.

The Kingdom of Aurelia began to prosper again, while the king wallowed in self-pity, oblivious to every sacrifice and difficult decision Halia made to keep the kingdom she loved from crumbling.

She restored trade routes, negotiated peace treaties, and implemented reforms that brought prosperity and stability.

Her compassion and intelligence won the hearts of the people, who saw her as their true leader.

Now, here he was, making Halia doubt her self-worth, doubt her ability to rule, when she deserved only praise and the crown he was unfit to wear.

The frustration and sadness in Halia’s eyes made Ophelia’s heart ache.

She wished she could ease her princess’s burdens, but knew that all she could do was offer her unwavering support.

Ophelia had vowed never to keep anything important from Halia, but there were moments like this when she wished she had. The truth, while necessary, was often a heavy burden.

“I don’t believe for a second that Mariana isn’t planning a way to escape.

We know she learned information from the letter Astra left her.

Information that undoubtedly included the location of the amulet.

” Halia turned and faced Ophelia, her head held high, determination replacing the doubt in her eyes.

Ophelia’s heart brightened at the sight. Halia wouldn’t let the king’s words get to her. The fire in her eyes was a reminder of the strength and resilience that had always defined her.

Clearing her throat, she said, “Why don’t you just tell Mari the truth? Maybe if you explain to her why it’s so vital that Helios doesn’t come back, she’ll work with you to find the amulet and keep it somewhere safe, away from the king.”

Halia shook her head. “I cannot. Sirens like her are not to be trusted. I tried trusting Astra and look where that got me. ”

Ophelia bit her lip to keep from pointing out that Halia had imprisoned Astra and forced her to look for the amulet’s location instead of trusting her …

Halia approached, the soft rustle of her gown the only sound in the room, and Ophelia quickly stood.

“Tell Kosta and Dax to bring her to me, will you?” Halia reached up and twirled one of Ophelia’s curls between her fingers.

Ophelia held back from kissing them. They were alone, but that didn’t always mean Halia welcomed the affection.

Instead, Ophelia stared up into the eyes of the female she loved with her whole heart and smiled before bowing her head. “Of course, Your Highness.”

As Ophelia turned to leave, she couldn’t help but glance back at Halia. The princess stood tall, a beacon of hope and strength. The kingdom needed her. But more importantly, Ophelia needed her.