Chapter 32
NARYA
The fires burned long into the night. The hall grew increasingly busier as the tables were generously laden with food and drinks.
As I walked down the stairs, the scent of smoked meats, spiced roots, and fruit lacquered in honey wove through the air.
I walked down the stairs, drawn by the heat and anticipation.
Servants darted across the floor as dancers rehearsed beneath garlands of bone-lilies and scarlet silk.
Some of the men and women who participated in the hunt shared their offering openly.
A warrior held up a bouquet of blood-anemones.
Another presented the gilded feathers of a firefowl, said to burn only for one soul in its lifetime.
A pair exchanged matching daggers, bound together with a lock of hair and a vow whispered in the old tongue.
They all looked happy. Completely in love.
I found myself looking for Daigen and wondering what he might bring me.
I barely stepped off the stairs when the doors opened, and Daigen walked through them.
A great stag over his shoulder. Not just any stag, its antlers were carved in silver light, its hooves still faintly glowing from the hunt.
It was a silvaryn, the rarest of its kind and sacred to my people.
His eyes found me the moment he entered, and they didn’t let go.
He crossed the room with a silent but steady stride, carrying the silvaryn like it weighed nothing, and then laying it at my feet.
Then he knelt to me like I was already his queen.
“For the one I caught and will never release,” he said, his vow echoing through the silent hall.
I stared down at the Bloodstone King and his offering. The silvaryn’s gorgeous white pelt still shimmered like silver mist. Its pale blue eyes were half-open and flecked with gold that no longer glittered.
This was what it meant, then. To be hunted by the Bloodstone King.
To be wanted by him.
I swallowed the ache. I didn’t want to shame the Bloodstones. I’d spent my whole life judging their ways, but this… this mattered to them.
It mattered to Daigen.
Even if I grew up believing the silvaryn to be divine guardians of the Afterrealm, I would accept the offering. To refuse it would be to refuse him.
I kneeled with him, and placed my hand on the silvaryn’s brow.
“Thank you. I accept.”
The hall erupted into cheer. Daigen rose, bringing me with him.
His lips met mine in a deep, bruising kiss.
The kind that didn’t ask for permission but claimed it from deep within.
My knees went weak. When he pulled back, the sound of cheering had faded.
Daigen was the only thing I could feel. His hand lingered on my cheek, his thumb stroking me like I was something rare he’d almost lost.
“èllia," he called out, his voice turning firm again. "You will skin the offering."
Across the hall, èllia appeared, pale and stiff. She wore a tight gown of white silk and black lace, the bodice fitted around her like a second skin. A crown of fireberries rested on her head where her long, dark auburn hair spilled over one shoulder. Her red lips parted.
"But my king—"
"You hunted nothing," Daigen cut in coldly, still not looking at her. Still caressing me as if I were the only thing that mattered. “Therefore, you will honour what was caught. Prepare it carefully.”
I caught the flicker of resentment in her eyes before she lowered them.
“As you wish.”
She bowed her head, her knuckles whitening at her side. Then she gave the smallest of nods, turned, and disappeared into the back of the hall without another word. Izyák grabbed the silvaryn and hauled it after her.
I watched them go, filled with a strange urge to follow.
èllia looked like she was about to faint when Daigen gave the command.
I should have been gloating inside, yet I found myself pitying her.
I doubted she knew what to do or where to start.
Grisanne passed out the first time she tried to skin an animal.
Daigen’s thumb stroked my cheek again, pulling my focus back to him.
“Was that a punishment? Or a jest?”
A smirk curved his mouth. “A reminder of her place.” Then his thumb slid down to tilt back my head, and his eyes burned with something unspoken. Possession. Promise. Warning. “I want to show you—”
A warrior approached quickly from the hall’s edge. “A raven from the southern guard.”
Daigen’s eyes flicked over to the warrior, then back to me again.
“Wait for me here,” he said, his jaw tensing. “This won’t take long.”
His thumb brushed over my lips, and I shivered.
“Don’t vanish from me,” he added in a murmur. “Not tonight. I have one vow still to give.”
I nodded. Whatever it was, I knew I’d enjoy it.
He leaned in and kissed me again, so gently his lips were featherlight against mine, and then… he was gone.
The hall’s roar returned the instant he left, but I felt untethered, as though some invisible thread had been pulled from my chest and followed him into the dark.
I watched the doors close behind him before I turned and headed in the other direction. Whether I would regret this later, only time would tell.
The corridors were quieter behind the feast hall. The torches dimmed the deeper I went. I followed them until the smell of roasted meat faded, and the sharp, bitter tang of blood invaded my senses.
Captain Izyák suddenly appeared at the beginning of a small passage. He quickly jerked to a halt. The unusually thoughtful look on his face shifted into confusion when he saw me, like he couldn’t comprehend why I was headed for the skinning chamber.
“Lady Narya—”
“I’d like to help,” I said gently. “I’ve skinned so many deer I could do it blindfolded. Is èllia down there?”
He hesitated, debating to let me through. I didn’t wait for his permission. I smiled and slipped by his hulking frame. He didn’t stop me, but he did seem oddly protective of èllia. Something I made note of.
The passage sloped downward, each step colder than the last. Shadows clung to the walls.
It led to a chamber barely lit with low-burning torches, their flames flickering over stone walls slick with soot and old blood stains.
The temperature was much colder, the scent of iron and ash lingering heavily in the air.
I tucked my hair behind my ears and stepped into the room.
èllia stood by the long table where the silvaryn was sprawled over it.
Her sleeves were rolled to her elbows, her white gown now stained red at the front.
A skinning knife trembled in her hand. She hadn’t made a single cut yet. Probably didn’t know where to start.
"I said I would handle it,” she muttered, without turning to look at me.
I moved in slowly. “You need to start at the belly.”
She turned to face me then, her eyes tired and her mouth tight. Yet for a second she looked surprised to see me.
“What do you want… my lady?”
“To help you,” I answered simply. “Give me the knife. It’ll be done quicker if you know what to do.”
She didn’t speak, but after a long moment, she handed me the blade.
I took it, stepped to the creature’s side, and placed my hand on its flank. The warmth had just begun to fade.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, then I made the first cut.
The skin parted easily. Blood welled from the clean incision. I handed èllia a cloth and guided her hand when she took it. Her movements were slow at first but she followed every gesture, watching my hand closely.
“My father used to make us do this,” I said. “He said if we wanted to eat meat, we needed to understand where it came from and what it cost to have it. My sisters hated doing it. I got used to it quickly enough.”
èllia's eyes flicked to mine curiously. “You actually did this growing up?”
I nodded. “All five of us. Kaydra, the oldest, passed out the first time. She vomited the second. I’d always end up finishing for her.”
She circled to the other side of the table. “Why are you telling me this?”
I shrugged and slid the knife in again, below the ribs.
The skin slid back like a glove.
“Making conversation, I guess. It helps distract from all…” Part of the intestines fell out. I dumped them in a bowl on the table. “This.”
A wet sound broke the silence, flesh yielding to the blade, and then the scent of copper grew thick enough to taste.
In the corner of my eye, èllia shook her head.
“I don’t understand you. Daigen just claimed you in front of his court—gifted you that—yet here you are, helping me skin it instead of being with him? It doesn’t make sense.”
I kept my eyes on the knife. “I suppose I’m trying to enjoy what little time I have left.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them. I bit my lip, hating that I was being so open with her. She was the last person I expected to be vulnerable with.
“What do you mean, what little time you have left?” she asked, her tone sharpening.
She probably already knew. Or she’d find out soon anyway.
“After the feast,” I said, moving on to the last cut. “I’m going home.”
èllia made a choking sound of disbelief. “That’s what you think all this is? A farewell?”
My knife paused. “Isn’t it?”
She laughed at me. “Gods above, you really don’t know him, do you?”
I turned to her, heartbeat climbing. “What are you talking about?”
“Daigen,” she said, her eyes flashing. “He meant every word in that hall. ‘For the one I caught and will never release.’ That wasn’t a show, Narya. It was a declaration of war.”
The knife slipped from my fingers. Blood smeared across the table, and something inside me cracked wide open.
“No…” I shook my head, the word scraping from my throat. “He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t risk everything for me.”
èllia gave a short, bitter laugh. “He already has. Why do you think Sol’vaneth was moved up? It always falls on the first full moon of winter. This year, it’s early. Because they’re preparing for war.”
I stared at her. The chamber tilted. War? Because of me?
“He’s the Bloodstone King,” she said, voice low and cutting. “He doesn’t surrender anything that’s his. And you? You’re his fated one. He’d burn the realm down before giving up his mate.”
The words hollowed me out. Every memory of his touch, every promise, rearranged itself into something monstrous and beautiful all at once.
He loved me enough to destroy the realm.
My chest tightened until I could hardly breathe. I couldn't let him do this. To sacrifice one life was too much. The whole realm?
“I can't let him do this," I whispered.
èllia's tone softened, almost kindly. “Then stop him.”
The torchlight quivered behind her. My pulse roared in my ears. Inside, my shock curdled into grief, before the grief began to twist into resolve. I had to stop him. I couldn't let this happen.
I wouldn't be the reason his kingdom falls.
èllia arched a brow. “You want peace?” She shrugged lightly. “Sometimes you have to fight dirty to get it.”
I dragged a hand down my face, trying to steady myself. “Then I’ll go to Ultherion first. If I reach him before Daigen acts, I can end this before it begins. Before he does something he can’t come back from.”
It was the only logical, but most painful for me, solution.
“Bold,” èllia murmured, studying me with mild curiosity. “But not foolish. I’d rather carve my own fate too.”
I looked at the knife glinting in the torchlight—a warped reflection of the girl I still wanted to believe I was. “If Ultherion promised to return me safely, he’d have to honour it.”
èllia nodded slowly. “He’s proud and bound to his word,” èllia agreed. “But do you really think the Moonstone King would spare you just because you went to him freely?”
“I’m not going to wait here to find out.”
Something flickered behind her eyes. Admiration, perhaps. Or just surprise.
“Ultherion’s betting Daigen will shatter the truce,” she said. “If Daigen refuses, he’s the aggressor. If he hands you over, he’s weak. Either way, Ultherion wins. Unless you go to him first.”
“It’s the only way," I said, my voice steadying. A risk I was willing to take, even if it broke me.
Daigen saved me when no one else would. Now it’s my turn to save him.
Even if it means losing him.
èllia tilted her head, the faintest smile ghosting her lips. “Are you really willing to do this? Sacrifice yourself?”
I nodded. “It’s either that, or war.”
Her eyes narrowed, assessing. “He’ll never forgive you.”
“I’ll learn to live with that.”
It was a lie, but I needed to tell myself to go through with the plan.
I looked down at the sylvaren, at the blood pooling beneath it and the knife glistening on the table. Every part of me wanted to run to Daigen, but what kind of woman lets the man who saved her burn for her?
“I'll need your help,” I said, looking at Ellia. “You want me gone. This is your chance.”
Her gaze sharpened, calculating. “Then it has to be tonight. Daigen plans to claim you after the feast.”
My heart lurched. “He—what?”
“It’s how he’ll announce the war. Ask Thràena if you doubt me. The whole court knows.”
My heart didn’t break. It shattered mercilessly.
The feast. The kiss. The vow. None of it had been a farewell.
It was a coronation.
“They’re celebrating a war,” I whispered, “while the realm prepares to burn.”
“They’re Bloodstone,” èllia said. “War is love to them.”
I met her gaze again. I didn’t trust her. But I trusted her ambition.
“You want me gone,” I said. “Then help me leave.”
“I want peace,” she countered, "and Daigen back on the path he belongs to.”
I doubted every word but nodded anyway.
“If there’s a chance I can stop this, even if it’s a fool’s hope… will you help me?”
I needed her help. She was the only one who hated me enough to help me escape.
Her eyes glittered, a spark of triumph hidden in the torchlight. “Yes. Before they come for you at midnight, meet me here. I’ll open a portal to the Moonstone Palace.”
“You can do that?”
“Not alone,” she said. “But I have a contact there. Someone who’ll get you inside.”
I hesitated. I hadn’t known she could use magic. "I don't trust you.”
She smirked at that. "Good. You shouldn't."
"And you don't trust me."
“No. I don't."
“Then let’s call this what it is. A mutual betrayal.”
“Has a nice ring to it, don’t you agree?”
I wiped the blood from my hands on a cloth.
"If you hurt Daigen," I vowed, meeting her eyes, "you’d better pray the gods show you mercy, Ellia. Because I won’t.”
I’d never threatened anyone like that before, but I meant every word.
If she hurt him, I would skin her alive.
Her smile merely widened. “Now I’m beginning to like you.”
I turned away from her, the decision set heavy in my chest. There would be no going back after this. But I still had to get through the feast. I would need to dance, drink, and smile beside the man I was about to betray.
This wasn’t running away. It wasn’t even surrender. It was a sacrifice.
But for once, it wasn’t the gods’ decision to make.
It was mine.