C H A P T E R F O R T Y – N I N E
This is my greatest fear… I can feel her pulling away.
C H A P T E R F O R T Y – N I N E
Olwyn
T he day of the ball arrives, and I’m a little numb.
Thalia and Sera flit around me like butterflies, their excitement palpable as they bustle about the room, fussing over my black starlight gown, my hair, my makeup. I sit there in silence, letting them pull and primp and preen, their chatter washing over me like background noise.
“You’re going to look absolutely breathtaking tonight,” Thalia gushes as she pins the last of my curls in place. “Everyone will be watching you.”
I force a small smile, but it feels foreign on my lips. I have been a bit subdued, since… everything. Since Altair told me the truth, since my entire life crashed down on me. At meals, we still exchange polite nods and pleasantry, but the tension remains.
I haven’t told them, but there’s a hollow space in my chest that I can’t seem to fill. The truth about my past, what I did, my parent s? —my real mother—wraps around me like a cold cloak, suffocating. And I don’t know how to pull myself out from beneath it. They are trying, but I can’t seem to relax. Warm energy simmering under my skin, feeling like it needs to burst out.
Sera giggles, holding up the gown for me to step into. “I can’t wait to see the hall filled with people. It’s been so long since we’ve had a ball this grand. The way it’s decorated—everything is just so perfect!”
“Who are you most excited to meet?” Thalia asks with a mischievous grin. “I hear there will be lords from all over, even some from the far South.”
“And King Casius,” Sera adds, her eyes wide. “Can you imagine? An actual king from another kingdom!”
The mention of Casius makes my stomach twist with nerves. I wonder what he’s like. Whether he’s more vicious like the ‘stories’ I was told back in Avantra. Or maybe he’s more like Altair?
“He’s supposed to be very charming,” Thalia continues, oblivious to my discomfort. “But also a bit… cold, isn’t he?”
“Indifferent,” Sera corrects, smoothing the fabric of my gown over my legs. “He’s apparently very indifferent.”
Charming. Cold. Indifferent. I barely hear them. My thoughts are miles away, tangled up in everything I’ve learned, everything I’m struggling to accept. Everything I need to do tonight.
All I have done for days to try and relieve the stress is train, eat and sleep, and help with the final preparations for the ball. And tonight, I’m supposed to stand before a hall full of people I don’t know, pretending everything is fine.
Pretending I’m fine.
“Olwyn.”
The sharp voice cuts through the air like a knife, and I flinch slightly in surprise, my gaze snapping to the door.
Ailith stands in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, cutting a fierce, imposing figure. She’s dressed in a deep purple gown that hugs her body like armour, the fabric shimmering with an almost dangerous elegance. The neckline plunges just enough to be bold, but the rest of the dress is sharp and structured, cinching at the waist with dark gold detailing. There’s a shimmering gold powder dusted over her shaved head and eyelids, and she looks both stunning and untouchable—like a queen in her own right, even without a crown.
Her eyes sweep over Thalia and Sera, the girls immediately quieting under her gaze as they leave, before her hard expression lands on me. There’s no softness there, no room for excuses.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, though I already know.
She doesn’t mince words. “You need to pull yourself together.”
I blink.
“This ball isn’t just a party, Olwyn. It’s a statement,” Ailith continues, stepping into the room, her voice cool and firm. “You are the queen. You need to act like it tonight. I don’t care what’s going on in your head—there’s too much at stake for you to falter now.”
Fury and betrayal rise in me. I stare back at Ailith with a spark I haven’t felt in days. “You made out it wasn’t a big deal.”
“What?” she asks.
“When I killed that assassin, you said it wasn’t a big deal.” Ailith’s gaze narrows slightly, but she doesn’t speak. “Because you knew what I’d done at the academy. You knew that wasn’t my first kill.”
Ailith doesn’t flinch, but her expression shifts—just barely—a flicker of something almost like recognition in her eyes.
“You’ve always known,” I continue, the words tumbling out now, anger simmering just beneath the surface. “All of you. Altair. Iolas. And you never said a word about it. You just waited for me to remember it myself.”
Ailith’s lips press into a thin line, her silence cutting deeper than any retort she could throw at me. The tension between us thickens, but for once, I don’t feel small under her sharp gaze.
“You told me it wasn’t a big deal,” I repeat. “Because to you, I’ve always been a weapon. Even when I didn’t know it.”
She takes a step closer, her eyes never leaving mine. “Yes,” she says bluntly. “Because it’s true. You’ve done worse, Olwyn. Much worse. And you survived it.”
“But they didn’t!” I raise my voice.
Ailith doesn’t flinch. She never does. Instead, she stands her ground, her expression as hard and unyielding as stone. “No,” she says, her voice a little softer but still firm. “They didn’t. But that’s not your fault.”
My breath hitches, and I feel the surge of emotion clawing at my chest. “Isn’t it? How can you stand there and say that? I killed them, Ailith. I killed those children . My classmates. My friends.” My voice cracks at the end, the truth pressing down on me like an avalanche.
Ailith’s eyes soften, but her stance remains solid. “You lost control. You were a child. You didn’t know what you were capable of, what was inside of you.”
“And now I do?” I challenge, my voice shaking. “I don’t know what’s in me now either.”
“You’re stronger now,” Ailith counters, her voice rising just enough to drown out the edge of panic in mine. “You’ve trained, you’ve fought, and you’ve survived more than most people ever will. Do you think that makes you a monster? Or do you think it makes you someone who does what needs to be done?”
I shake my head, stepping back. “And what about the next time I lose control? Who pays the price then? What if it’s Altair, or Iolas?”
She doesn’t answer. Just stares at me for a moment.
“Stop fighting it,” she finally says, her voice firm again. “Stop doubting yourself. You survived, Olwyn. You survived when almost no one else did, and you’ve been surviving ever since. But now it’s time to do more than just survive. It’s time to live. To take control. You’re the queen.”
I swallow, the backs of my eyes stinging. A queen. How am I supposed to be a queen when I can hardly sort my head out?
Ailith’s eyes narrow, sensing my hesitation. “Don’t let them see your weakness,” she says sharply. “Not tonight. Not ever.”
I nod slowly, even though the knot in my chest tightens. I wish I could find that fire inside me, the fiery strength that always flickers just beneath the surface. But it feels… dimmer now. Smaller.
She turns on her heel and heads for the door. “I’ll see you downstairs,” she says over her shoulder, leaving me with nothing but the echo of her words.
Thalia and Sera re-enter, exchanging a nervous glance, and I offer them a tight smile. “I think that’s enough,” I say softly. “Thank you.”
They hesitate but nod, stepping back to let me rise from the chair. The gown they’ve chosen for me is beautiful—the black lace with delicate silver embroidery that catches the light when I move. It’s the kind of dress that should make me feel powerful, beautiful. But as I stare at myself in the mirror, all I feel is… hollow,
“Good luck, Your Majesty,” Thalia whispers as I make my way to the door. Sera nods in agreement, their excitement dimming slightly as they sense my unease.
I don’t respond, my mind already elsewhere.
The grand hall is only down my staircase and a few corridors away, but the thought of entering it feels suffocating. My heart pounds as I walk down the corridor, two guards flanking me silently. Their presence feels more like a cage than protection, and with every step, my chest tightens.
I don’t want this.
I don’t want to go to the ball.
I don’t want to face King Casius, or the guests, or even Altair and Iolas.
I can’t. Not yet. Not like this.
We reach a fork in the hall, the polished stone glinting under the flickering sconces lining the walls. My breath quickens as I glance down the darkened side corridor to my right. I know where it leads—the private hall to the gardens. The fresh air, the open sky. For a fleeting moment, I can almost feel the crisp night breeze against my skin, the whisper of freedom it promises.
“Stop,” I command abruptly, my voice steady despite the storm brewing in my chest. Both guards halt immediately, turning to me with questioning looks.
“I need air,” I say firmly, tilting my chin up. “Take me to the gardens.”
The guard ahead hesitates, his brow furrowing. “My queen, the palace doors are locked for the evening, and the garden is outside the designated perimeter—”
“I need air,” I cut him off, keeping my tone sharp but calm. “Unlock the door. Now.”
The guards exchange a glance, one silently assessing the other before the one behind me nods. “As you wish, my queen.”
We divert down the side corridor, their heavy boots echoing behind me. The closer we get to the garden door, the lighter my chest feels, though my heart still races. I focus on the sound of my breathing, trying to steady it, to quiet the chaos in my mind.
When we reach the end of the hallway, the lead guard pulls out a ring of keys and unlocks the heavy wooden door. It creaks open, revealing the soft glow of moonlight spilling onto the stone floor. The scent of fresh earth and blooming flowers drifts in, calming and grounding.
“Wait here,” I tell them, stepping over the threshold before they can protest. I glance back at the guard holding the key, fixing him with a look that dares him to argue.
“My queen, it would be safer if we—”
“I said wait here,” I repeat, sharper this time. “I’ll be fine. I won’t go far. And the only other door to the garden is locked, yes?”
Reluctantly, they nod, stepping back as I close the door behind me. The latch clicks softly, and I’m alone.
The gardens are bathed in silver light, the tall hedges, trees and stone pathways illuminated by the full moon above. The light breeze of the night air licks at my skin, but it’s a welcome relief. For the first time all evening, I feel like I can breathe.
I walk slowly down the gravel path, the tension in my chest easing with every step. The first stars in the evening sky above seem impossibly bright, scattered like tiny shards of light. My fingers brush against the petals of a nearby rose bush, grounding myself.
For a moment, I let myself forget. Forget the ball, the politics, my title. Out here, under the open sky, I’m just Olwyn again. Not a queen. Not a player in this stupid game. Just… me.
But the peace doesn’t last.
It’s the unfamiliar deep voice that startles me, causing me to turn.
“Need a hand?”