Chapter 43
Elara
Elara trembled as Iris’s skilled fingers buttoned the dozens of pearls on the back of her wedding gown.
The silken white gown dripped with crystals and embroidered red astilbes—matching the flowers decorating the binding marquee.
A crown of crystalline branches formed a heavy headpiece.
Bloodred coated her lips. She’d chosen the ensemble as a show of strength and inspiration to her people.
When she’d selected the dress, she hadn’t known that she would wear it this confidently, full of hard-earned strength and grace.
She scarcely recognized herself in the mirror, her reflection that of a fox disguised as a dove.
No longer a powerless prop, Elara was a driving force in her own future and the future of the kingdom.
“Have you heard anything from our contact?” Elara asked. As soon as she’d processed her vision with the shrouded woman, Elara had asked Felix to give Iris the name of a trusted contact at the country house where her family was allegedly being kept.
“She confirmed that their . . . bodies are still there. In cold storage,” Iris said, sniffling.
Elara grasped Iris’s wrinkled hand, squeezing it. The loss left both women with a deep ache in their hearts, a wound that wouldn’t easily heal.
“Thank you, Iris.” Elara’s skin crawled at the image that flashed in her mind—her sister, mother, and father stuffed into a damp cellar to keep their corpses from rotting.
“How are you feeling, my dear?” Iris asked, pinning a last curl into place.
“Ready,” Elara said. And it was the truth.
Today, Elara would marry the man she loved and, in doing so, unite the two most powerful lineages in history.
They would defeat Lord Stormrider and bring an end to generations of conflict, ushering in a new age of peace.
Her reign as queen would bring hope—a tiny ember, glowing in the darkness, that Serendith could change for the better.
It all begins tonight, Elara thought, stomach fluttering.
Sharp knocks on the door interrupted her thoughts, and Sera strolled into the room. “Elara, you look . . . radiant,” she said, eyes wide and nodding her approval. “Be careful this evening—every man in the kingdom will want you. And every woman will want to be you.”
Elara chuckled. “Thank you. But I only need them to admire me enough to follow me when I’m queen. And the only man’s opinion I care about tonight is Caelan’s.” She gave Sera a pointed look.
“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him.” The headpiece’s hanging crystals tinkled as Sera’s fingers brushed them. Her eyes traced Elara’s figure, soaking in every detail of her gown. “Stunning,” she said, nodding her head in appreciation.
Elara smiled, stifling a snort at the thought that Sera could envy anyone else’s appearance. “You too,” she said.
They’d both chosen their armor well for the occasion.
Sera wore a floor-length midnight-purple gown dotted with silver embroidery reminiscent of the night sky.
Lace sleeves covered her arms in false modesty, as both the front and back of the gown cut low, showing ample tanned skin.
The neckline plunged to her belly button and revealed a glimpse of her sigils—a pattern of smoky swirls across her sternum.
“Let’s hope we can dance—or fight—in these,” Elara said, lifting her heavy skirt with effort.
Sera popped her leg out of a slit that reached her hip. “I think I’ll be just fine.”
Elara opened her desk drawer and revealed her dagger. She tucked it into a pocket Iris had sewn into the gown, concealing it. “Hopefully I won’t need it.” If all went according to plan, there would be no battle, and Caelan would capture his father with ease. Elara gulped down her dread.
“He’ll be fine, Elara,” Sera said.
Jalin interrupted them with a loud cough, poking his head in the doorway. “May I come in?” he asked, hand covering his eyes.
Jalin? Elara’s eyes widened. She had yet to see her former guard since Sera had restored his memories.
Sera rolled her green eyes. “Of course, Jalin. And you can look; it’s only bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.”
Jalin entered the room, his face flushing a deep shade of red. “Elara . . . Princess . . . You look incredible,” he said in awe.
“It’s really you?” Elara breathed.
He nodded. “Thanks to blondie here. I don’t have long—Lord Stormrider will notice my absence.” He rocked back on his heels, wringing his hands together. “I had to see you before—”
“I’m so happy to see you,” Elara said, tears of joy brimming her eyes.
“Me too. I’m glad you’re all right.” A wide grin spread across his face.
“Any news?” Sera asked, brows pulling together.
“Everything is in place. We have the tent surrounded. Everyone will be hidden in plain sight—disguised. Caelan will confront his father after the first dance.”
“Good. I’ll be ready then,” Sera said, clutching her amulet. “We’ll only have a few minutes to subdue him and move him to the dungeon. If he breaks free, we will have to fight.”
Jalin nodded again. Elara’s stomach churned.
“If it comes to a fight, evacuate the guests as quickly as possible,” Elara said. “Oh, and remind Caelan and the rest of our allies that I need Lord Stormrider alive.”
Sera crinkled her nose. Jalin sighed and folded his arms. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“I know. I don’t like it either. But we need him alive. Without a trial, our subjects’ loyalty is at risk. I know what kind of queen I want to be.” Elara squared her shoulders and raised her chin.
“And what will the trial be about, exactly?” Sera asked.
“Silas found several of Lord Stormrider’s proposals for trade agreements in my father’s study that qualify as treason. They’ll keep Caelan’s hands clean and prove the crown’s justice is fair once more. The true nature of our engagement and my family’s deaths must remain hidden,” Elara said.
“And after the trial?” Jalin raised an eyebrow.
“We announce that my family fell ill again. That they weren’t as fortunate this time, vulnerable from the affliction they recently faced.” Elara looked down at her hands, the weight of her headpiece making the tiny movement challenging.
“And Caelan has been mending fences with several nobles, particularly those whose wives or daughters he was . . . acquainted with,” Sera said.
Elara rolled her eyes. “I’ve been doing the same, sorting through the king’s documents and identifying those who have unsavory agreements with him. I’ve assured them of the crown’s ability to conclude those dealings. Any more talk of prophecies with his inner circle?”
“Nothing new. Lord Stormrider has been focused on the wedding night, telling them to celebrate the conception of ‘the savior of essence,’ ” Sera said.
A red haze coated Elara’s vision. She’d decided against telling Sera and Caelan about what she’d learned from Lord Stormrider about his true intentions—his desire to control essence and limit it only to the elite nobles of his choosing.
Elara considered telling Sera about her new plan for Lord Stormrider—the real reason she wanted him alive.
She searched Sera’s eyes and found nothing there to dissuade her, but fear curled in her belly.
Elara wasn’t ready to admit the truth and wasn’t ready to fully trust Sera again.
Tonight, her primary goal was their survival and Lord Stormrider’s capture.
“I have to go,” Jalin said. “May the stars guide us.” He slipped out the door as Felix entered, offering Elara his arm to escort her outside.
“It’s time,” Felix said.
Elara took a deep breath. Time for my wedding. Time for my revenge.