Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
SACHA
“When the foundation cracks, what stands reveals its true nature.”
Wisdom of the Wandering Sages
The celebration planned for this evening carries more meaning than anyone understands. Ellie expects it to be a victory feast, Veinbloods and Veinwardens intend for it to be something far more significant—my formal coronation as High Prince of Meridian. But I have other plans beyond that.
Mira departed an hour ago, a protesting Ellie in tow, along with several women Mira deemed ‘adequate enough’ to act as Ellie’s court companions. Their presence is to help her prepare for the celebration this evening.
After yesterday’s reunion following our separation, being apart again feels oddly unsettling, even for temporary and practical reasons. I find myself mentally seeking out the bond between us to ensure she’s nearby more often than I care to admit.
“After tonight, everything changes.” I adjust the sleeves of my coat one final time and turn to face Varam.
He frowns. “In what way?”
“They’ll expect me to act like every High Prince before me. Hold court, receive petitions, delegate combat to others.” I meet his gaze. “But Sereven’s commanders are mine to eliminate.”
“You think the crown will tie you to Ashenvale?”
“I think some of the Veinbloods will try to make it that way. All those years of hiding has made them cautious, and for good reason. It’s been literally life or death for them.
They’re going to want their prince safe behind Ashenvale’s walls while others do the dangerous work required to bring the Authority down. ”
Varam hikes one eyebrow. “And you have no intention of obliging them?”
“None whatsoever. But the traditional role of the Shadowvein High Prince—”
“Was defined by men who never faced what you are facing. Your grandfather ruled during peacetime. Your father inherited a stable kingdom. That’s why it was so easy for the Authority to rise.
And now you are rebuilding from ashes while fighting a war against an enemy who knows your every tactical preference.
” He reaches out to belt my sword’s sheath around my waist. “If you want to hunt Sereven’s commanders personally, then that is what we will do.
If you want to lead from the front lines, that is where you will lead from.
The crown doesn’t diminish what you want to do, it legitimizes it. ”
I study his face, searching for any sign that he’s merely telling me what I want to hear, but Varam has never been one for empty reassurance. If he believes my approach is wrong, he’ll say so.
“What if the Veinblood houses object to me taking such an approach?”
“Then they can object.” He shrugs. “You’re not inheriting someone else’s crown, Sacha. You’re reclaiming your own. That means you set the rules for how you wear it, and how you use the power behind it.”
A soft knock at the door interrupts our conversation.
“Enter,” Varam calls.
The door opens to reveal Mira, complete with a smugly satisfied expression on her face. “Lady Ellie is ready.” Her lips twitch at the honorific. “She is ready to join the celebrations when you are.”
“When you say ready …”
“I am certain that she will never become used to formalities, or having people help dress and bathe her. She will be a constant source of gossip throughout Meridian once word gets out that she prefers to do things for herself. Very shocking.” Mira’s voice is devoid of any inflection, but her eyes are dancing with amusement.
“Where is she now?”
“Her new court companions are taking her down to the throne room. She will meet you in the antechamber, so you can both be announced.”
I nod, then turn back to Varam. “Then it’s time.”
When we reach the antechamber to the throne room, I pause outside the door. Varam rests one hand on my shoulder.
“If someone had suggested to me all those years ago when we were mourning your death that one day we would be standing in the Lirien Spire once again, I wouldn’t have believed them.
When you walked into that room in Ravencross, looking as though you’d stepped out only moments before, I thought I had finally lost what remained of my senses.
” He shakes his head. “To see you here again … my prince … my friend … my brother through choice. It makes my heart full.”
“Nul’shar.” My hand lifts to cover his. “One of my greatest fears in the tower was that you did not survive. But you not only survived, you took command and kept our fight alive. Without you, there would be nothing to fight for.”
“Enough.” Mira’s voice is crisp as she steps between us, but she can’t hide the shine in her eyes.
“There will be enough time for reminiscing when we have our High Prince secured in his rightful place.” She gives me an arch look.
“Now go and collect the woman who made this possible.” She walks past me to open the door to the antechamber, and my eyes immediately seek out Ellie.
The emerald gown she’s wearing hugs every curve I’ve memorized with my hands, and the sight of her like this—elegant, regal, absolutely stunning—sends heat racing through my veins.
The neckline shows just enough cleavage to remind me what lies beneath the silk, her shoulders are bare, hair swept up to show off the length of her neck and the curve of her jaw.
For a moment, I seriously consider abandoning the entire ceremony ahead in favor of taking her back to my quarters and getting her out of that dress.
Her head tilts, a small smile curving her lips, and the silver chains woven through her hair in intricate patterns catch the light. My only thought is how I want to undo all that careful work and feel the silky strands between my fingers.
This isn’t the woman who stumbled into my world confused and afraid, but someone who has proven herself through blood and courage. She looks like she belongs here. The change goes deeper than just her clothing. There’s a confidence in how she carries herself that wasn’t there when we first met.
Varam gives me a subtle nudge, and I step forward, offering her a formal bow. “My Lady.”
She sweeps down into a graceful curtsy that suggests Mira’s preparations included more than just clothing. “My Vareth’el.”
She looks every inch the consort of a ruler, whether she’s aware of it or not.
Extending my arm, I close the distance between us, and she places her hand on my forearm. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
I guide her toward the throne room’s entrance. The guards stationed at the door step forward in unison, grasping the heavy iron handles. A heartbeat later, the doors swing open. Varam moves ahead of us, his voice carrying clearly through the vaulted room.
“Lords and Ladies of the Veinblood houses. Veinwardens of Meridian. I present to you your Vareth’el et’Varin Sacha Torran, rightful High Prince of Meridian, returned to claim his throne.”
The formal words echo off the walls, carrying the weight of over thirty years of exile and struggle.
I step forward, drawing Ellie along with me, and move through the crowd toward the throne.
Faces blur as we walk past. Some old, who lived through the purges and rise of the Authority.
Others are younger, people who grew to adulthood when the world had changed, and only know me through stories and legends.
All of them watch as we pass with expressions that combine reverence and hope.
The throne rises ahead, its black stone absorbing the light around it. For a moment, I pause, images of my father sitting there overlaying my vision. Now it waits for me to claim what was lost.
I reach the dais and turn to face the crowd.
Ellie stands beside me, her presence both support and a reminder of how much has changed.
How much I’ve changed since I began this journey by fleeing Ashenvale in the dead of night with the brother I would never have believed would be the one who would eventually betray me.
“More than thirty years ago, the Authority sought to eradicate Veinblood legacy from Meridian’s history.” My voice carries to every corner of the room. “They burned our homes, alienated our allies, scattered our families, and eventually claimed our bloodlines were extinct.”
Whispers rise from the crowd, voices recognizing shared pain and acknowledging losses that we can never recover from.
“They were wrong. We survived. We endured. And we never stopped fighting for the right to return home. Today, we reclaim not just this city, but our rightful place in Meridian’s future.”
Cheers ring out, but I raise my hand for silence.
“Sereven and the Authority’s reign of terror ends here.
” I turn to face the throne, stepping forward to place my palms on the armrests.
The stone is warm under my touch, as though it responds to the magic that flows through my veins.
For a heartbeat, I imagine I can sense the presence of every Shadowvein High Prince who sat here before me—their memories, their struggles, their triumphs and failures …
all absorbed into the shadowstone itself.
Then I sit.
From this vantage point, the crowd before me looks different. They’re no longer just allies and supporters, they’re my subjects. People whose lives and futures depend on the decisions I will make from this seat.
Mira moves to Ellie’s side, subtly guiding her with a gentle touch to stand at my right hand beside the throne. Then Varam steps forward, carrying a crown on a cushion of black velvet.
“By right of birth, by strength of arm, by the will of the Veinblood houses, I formally crown you Telvareth Sacha Torran, High Prince of Meridian, rightful ruler of this realm.”
He places the crown on my head, and the crowd erupts into cheers and applause. I stand and bow, my mind is already moving ahead to what comes next. Raising my hand, shadows flow from my fingertips.