Chapter Fifty-Two
Aelia
The Shadow Fortress hadn’t changed, but I had.
I wandered through the obsidian stone corridors, the scent of smoldering torches and iron still clinging to the walls like smoke after a wildfire.
A week had passed since the battle with Helroth.
A week since I’d shadowtraveled Reign and Aidan out of the blood-soaked ruin of that battlefield.
A week since I’d felt Aidan’s final heartbeat fade beneath my hands.
We were still breathing. Still standing. But nothing felt the same.
Only a dozen soldiers had been lost. That’s what the Shadow generals kept saying. A miracle, really. But it didn’t feel like a miracle. Not to me.
Aidan wasn’t just a soldier. He was mine.
Rue had been trying to get me to eat all morning, taking over Reign’s duty since our return.
She’d even gone so far as to steal honeyed buns from the kitchen before the head cook could stop her.
Symon helped her, naturally, flashing his ridiculous smile and bowing like a courtier while Rue stuffed her pockets.
Now we sat in the barracks common room, the three of us curled on one of the oversized couches as the rest of the soldiers trained or rested in the adjacent halls. Outside, the moon filtered in through one of the high arched windows, painting the black stone floor in pale blue light.
A shuffle of footfalls turned my attention to an approaching Royal Guardian.
Eryndor Dawnmere. The male who’d served under my father during the Two Hundred Years’ War.
He bowed his head, eyes cast down to the floor.
“If I may, Your Ethereal Highness, I wish to extend my condolences for the loss of General Solmere.”
I stood there, blinking stupidly.
Sy elbowed me, whispering, “He’s talking about Aidan, little Kin.”
“Oh, yes, of course. Thank you,” I rasped out.
“He was a fine male, King Alaric’s greatest general.
He will be missed.” He dipped his head and scurried away before I could find the wherewithal to speak.
To tell him that he was so much more than just a great general…
That he was also a great father, a funny, kind, generous male even when he was stern.
That he always kept me safe, while ensuring that I was more than capable of handling myself. And then I realized…
All this time, and I’d never asked Aidan his true surname. Throughout our years in Feywood, he’d been a Ravenwood, just like me. Now, he was nothing. Just… gone.
General Aidan Solmere. I wished I’d learned it before.
“Heaton’s up,” Rue said softly, nudging me with her shoulder and drawing me free of my solemn musings before I could sink down the well of despair I’d been living in the past week. “I’ve seen a huge difference these last few days. You want to see him?”
My breath hitched.
“I don’t want to push,” she added quickly. “But he’s lucid today. Really lucid. I thought… I thought maybe it would be good. For both of you.”
I nodded, my throat too tight for words.
Symon popped up first, stretching like a lazy cat. “Come on, princess. Let’s go see if the madman’s still mad, or if he’s finally sane enough to recognize me as his favorite from Flare Squad.” He winked, then held out his hand with an exaggerated flair. “Shall we?”
Despite everything, a small laugh slipped through my lips. “Lead the way, my loyal court jester.”
Together, we made our way through the halls, Rue’s arm looped through mine. My steps faltered as we approached the infirmary door, but she gave my hand a gentle squeeze. I took a breath, then stepped inside.
Heaton sat propped up in bed, a mug of broth in his hands and a blanket tucked around his waist. His once-shaggy, wild hair had been trimmed, and though his skin was still pale, the madness in his eyes was gone.
For a heartbeat, I just stared at him. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been writhing in pain, mumbling half-nonsenses and lashing out.
Though, as it turned out, he’d been right about Liora.
A flare of anger rippled beneath my skin.
That traitorous female had sold us out to Helroth.
She was the reason Aidan was dead, and she would pay the price the next time I saw her.
Heaton cleared his throat, drawing my attention once more. His gaze lifted to mine, and he smiled. All the fury from a second ago vanished with that one look. I’d thought we’d lost him, truly lost him, to the craze of zar and the lingering trauma. But maybe…
“Highness,” he said, his voice hoarse but warm. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
My knees buckled as the tears spilled over. I rushed to his side and wrapped my arms around him, careful not to jostle his healing wounds. He stiffened at first, then relaxed with a soft chuckle, his arms curling around me.
“I take it I missed a few things?”
“You have no idea,” I whispered, pressing my forehead to his shoulder. “You came back to us.”
“I told you I would,” he murmured, squeezing me gently. “I just had to fight through a whole lot of darkness to get here.”
“Gods, I missed you, Heat.”
Behind me, Symon cleared his throat dramatically. “Not to interrupt this beautiful reunion, but I’d like it noted that I also missed him, probably more than you did, and—ow!” Rue elbowed him in the ribs.
Heaton laughed, and it was such a blessed sound I nearly wept all over again.
Releasing him, but still remaining by his side, I sat up before giving my dramatic friend a sarcastic eyeroll.
“I’ve missed you too, Symon,” he said with a grin. “And Rue. Even after your awful attempts at soup.”
“Excuse me?” Rue placed a hand on her chest, mock-offended. “That was the best onion broth this fortress has ever seen.”
“Please don’t force me to eat it again,” Heaton said dryly. “I’d like to keep what’s left of my stomach lining.”
We all laughed. Real, true laughter. It echoed through the infirmary like sunlight breaking through clouds.
“How’s Belmore’s ear?” Heaton asked. “All healed up after its close encounter with Aelia’s blade?”
“Raysa, Heat, that was over a year ago! You’ve only been gone for a few months.”
His expression sobered for an instant, all of ours did. How badly had the Night Fae damaged my friend?
“It sure seems like a lot longer.” The hint of a smile curved one side of his mouth. “I guess I was wrong, Rue. Putting up with you wasn’t what made the time drag on endlessly.”
“Very funny, big brother.” Slipping onto the bed beside him, she jabbed her elbow into his side, and he rewarded her with a satisfying oomf.
For a few minutes, as the siblings’ playful banter filled the infirmary, the grief faded. The weight of war, of loss, of everything we’d endured softened. Because Heaton was alive. Because we were still together.
And even in the heart of shadow, that was enough to give me hope.
Maybe the worst had yet to pass, but at least I could enjoy this little reprieve and some healing could begin.
Later that evening, I marched past the war room, unable to face the Shadow generals who were still alive, while mine was gone.
Whispers drifted into the corridor, the familiar voices of Reign and Ruhl echoing the loudest. My last few conversations with Aidan had been across that table, arguing over battle plans.
I wish it had been more meaningful. That I’d gotten the chance to thank him for everything he’d sacrificed for me.
For loving me when he didn’t have to, for being the father I’d so desperately needed.
The cuorem pulsed as I continued down the hall, as if Reign had sensed my presence. It was likely he had. He’d barely left my side since the battle with Helroth. I’d forced him to join the others today, to plan our next move. I simply didn’t have the strength.
But soon, I would have to find it.
Ready or not.
“Where are you running off to, duskling?” Ruhl’s familiar tambor echoed off the obsidian walls.
Spinning around, I met those dark, mischievous eyes. “Trying to avoid the war room, actually.”
“Ah, I see.” He stepped closer, running a hand through his hair. “Smart girl. Once you get sucked in, it’s difficult to escape.”
“So how is it that you managed?”
Ruhl leaned against the wall, a rueful grin on his lips. “Your cuoré sent me.”
“He did?” My brows knitted as I regarded him. “That doesn’t sound like my overly possessive mate at all.”
“I know. I couldn’t believe it myself. Perhaps, he finally trusts me around his precious cuoré.”
“I hope you’re right. There is nothing that would make me happier.
” And I meant it. Standing there, I drew my lip between my teeth as a moment of silence descended.
“With all the chaos, I never got the chance to thank you for going with Reign to retrieve the Moirai Shard. I really appreciate your selflessness, Ruhl.”
He waved a dismissive hand. “Didn’t my brother teach you never to thank a Fae?”
I couldn’t help the grin from parting my lips. Of course he had, but it never did stick.
“Besides, it was good for us,” he continued.
“We’ve spent our entire lives competing against one another, both jealous of the other.
We despised each other. Our father made sure of that.
And as it turns out, it was all for nothing.
We are both princes, both powerful and capable, of two different courts.
You, for all the heartache you’ve caused us”—he threw me a smirk—“are actually the one thing that finally brought us together.”
“Well, I’m glad I could help… I think.”
Ruhl chuckled, the sound echoing softly in the empty corridor. “You’ve always been good at that, bringing impossible things into being. Reign was a bitter shadow the last I saw him. Now, look at him. A king in all but name.”
My throat tightened. “He’s everything I never dared to hope for.”
“And yet,” Ruhl said gently, “even he can’t fix all that was lost.”
“No,” I whispered. “He can’t bring Aidan back.”
We stood in silence for a beat, the air between us heavy with unspoken sorrow.
“But he can stand beside you while you build what comes next.” Ruhl pushed off the wall. “We all can. You’re not alone, duskling. Even when you feel like you are.”
Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them back. “You’re not so bad, Shadow Regent.”
“Don’t let that get around,” he said with a wink. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”
A smile tugged at my lips as he turned and strode back toward the war room. I lingered for a moment longer, listening to the muted thrum of voices behind the doors. The pulse of the cuorem was steady in my chest as if Reign had heard every bit of our conversation.
Soon, I would have to step through that threshold. I would stand where Aidan once stood and finish what we started together.
But not tonight.
Tonight, I let the grief live beside the hope. And I let myself breathe.