Chapter 19 #2
My voice echoes with the weight of a command that even I have rarely dared to test. The temple of Helena is a ruin swallowed by the sea when the goddess of the witches abandoned the oceans.
The goddess might have left her temple undisturbed for centuries, but her namesake did not, and Helena’s final act of magic nearly tore the seas apart, leaving nothing behind but echoes of her destruction.
Even venturing there feels like tempting fate.
The council doesn’t flinch under my glare.
“I understand the risks, Majesty. We all do. But the temple is the place where Helena’s power lingers strongest. The answers you seek—about how her magic bound itself to her bloodline, how it might be undone or wielded—will be found there.”
“And the dangers?” My voice is sharp. “The temple’s wards will not distinguish between friend and foe.”
Orlith meets my gaze steadily. “The kelpies are already ahead of us. They understand Jude’s magic better than we do. We cannot let fear keep us blind.”
The weight of his words settles over me. He’s right, damn him. I glance around the chamber, watching as the generals avoid my gaze, as if they know what I’ll say next and are already dreading it.
I rise to my feet, the trident pulsing faintly in the waters next to me. The glow intensifies as if it feels the resolve building in my chest. “Then I will go to the temple.”
Soren’s eyes widen. “Majesty, you can’t—”
“I can,” I cut him off. “And I will. This isn’t a task I’ll trust to anyone else. If there’s something to be found in Helena’s temple, it will recognize me before it recognizes any of you. Her magic lingers in her bloodline, and it will remember what I did to it.”
Orlith exhales heavily but doesn’t argue. “It will be dangerous.”
“I’m aware.”
“And if the temple resists your presence?” Soren presses. “The wards—”
“Then I’ll deal with them,” I say coldly. “Jude’s life depends on understanding Helena’s magic. The kelpies are moving faster than we are, and we cannot afford to let them gain any more ground. I’ll do what must be done.”
The room falls silent again and the council knows my decision is made. They know it’s pointless trying to turn me, and the generals exchange uneasy glances, but no one speaks. None of them would dare. They know it would cost them their lives.
Soren clears his throat. “And the kelpies, Majesty? Their leader? Their queen?”
I glance at him. “We’ll divide our efforts. While I’m at the temple, send word to the spies. Tell them to find this queen, no matter the cost. I want to know who we’re dealing with and how to stop them before they strike again.”
“And Jude?” Orlith’s question is quiet but pointed. “Will you tell him what you’re doing?”
My chest tightens at the thought of Jude’s reaction. He’s still recovering, his body frail and his magic barely a whisper. If he knew I was going to the temple, risking the wrath of Helena’s lingering power, he’d try to stop me. Or worse, he’d insist on coming.
Jude will hate me for this. The thought pierces through me like a harpoon, sharp and unrelenting.
He’ll see it as a betrayal, as proof that I don’t trust him, that I believe he’s too fragile, too weak to handle the truth.
He’ll accuse me of shutting him out, of treating him like something to be protected rather than a person who can stand by my side.
And he wouldn’t be wrong. It isn’t fair, but fairness has no place in this war.
I’ve failed him once already, and I’ll wear the guilt of that failure like an anchor dragging me to the ocean floor.
And yet, a part of me aches at the thought of his anger, his hurt.
The way his voice will harden, his beautiful face twisting into a mask that covers his hurt.
But the alternative is unthinkable. I can’t tell him the truth, and I can’t bear the thought of him trying to stop me, or worse, letting him come with me.
Jude may have Helena’s magic, but he’s no warrior.
He’s no match for the forces at the temple or the darkness lurking in the kelpies’ plans. Not yet. Not while he’s still healing.
“No,” I say finally. “He doesn’t need to know. Not yet.”
He’s going to be hurt when he finds out. But I’d rather let him hate me than see him broken. Let him believe I’ve eroded the trust between us than watch him fall to an enemy that only I can face.
And I can’t risk him getting hurt.
Not again.
I’d rather do what must be done than see him come to harm.
He won’t like it, and neither will I. But it will keep him safe, and I will do whatever it takes to make him understand that when I return.
To make him forgive me and rebuild the trust that I have broken.
Jude is mine, and no amount of anger or pain will change that.
I will earn back his trust, even if it takes a lifetime.
The council murmurs but seems to relax slightly at my words, though I can still feel the unease rippling through the room. I turn away from them, gripping the trident tightly as I make my way towards the door.
“You have your orders,” I say, waiting for the large gold doors to open. “I’ll leave at dawn.”
Soren calls after me. “Majesty, if you fail—”
“I won’t.”
My voice carries the weight of the tides, unyielding and final.
Failure isn’t an option. I’ll face Helena’s legacy and whatever horrors lie in wait at the temple.
I’ll endure the darkness, the danger, the crushing force of magic that might unravel me.
I’ll endure all of it, certain I’ll drown in all before I let anyone harm Jude again.