Chapter 52
As soon as my friends and I returned to the castle, bone tired and shaken, we were summoned to meet the king. Bodies filthy and bellies hungry, we spent hours relaying what had transpired in the forest. At some stage, the servants brought in trays of sandwiches and pots of tea.
The king was stunned to learn that Livia and Magnus were the murderers. He might have been even more stunned to learn that I was Velcarin.
After an endless barrage of questions that left me with a blinding migraine, the king extended his most heartfelt thanks for saving Amalie’s life again.
He reaffirmed my status as an honorary guest and invited me to visit Cliffcrest Castle whenever I pleased.
Amalie begged me not to go home yet, so I found myself agreeing to remain at the castle for a few more days.
Where I should have felt victorious, I felt hollow. Especially because Tarben hadn’t looked at me once during the meeting. Still, I plastered on a smile and accepted the praise of the king, all while pretending my insides did not feel like they were caving in on themselves.
The events of that evening were soon the talk of the castle.
Some servants and courtiers I had never seen before hurried away when they noticed me, avoiding my gaze.
Others came forward to offer their admiration for rescuing the princess and vanquishing a witch.
Even Ingrid offered me a brisk hug when I saw her.
But I was in such low spirits after my discussion with Tarben that I couldn’t even bring myself to enjoy the attention.
Hugo’s leg was as good as new, thanks to the magic touch of my grandmother’s healer. He was back to his usual self, with Filip caring for him like a seahorse with its eggs.
The day after we returned from the forest, I spent hours with them. At their insistence, I told them all about being Mer and my life back in Vantillios. Hugo made me promise that once everything had settled, I would invite them for a visit.
“I promise, but it’s going to seem so dull after the past few weeks we’ve had,” I warned.
After the shock wore off, Amalie was back to her cheerful self. In fact, when she retold the story now, she described it as “terribly exciting” and “like a real-life adventure from a book”.
At some stage, I ran into Captain Hansen in one of the castle hallways. He barely acknowledged me, offering nothing more than a grunt, but it didn’t bother me. I wasn’t expecting to receive an apology from him anytime soon.
Another person who wouldn’t be toasting to my victory was Oriane.
As to be expected, she was heartbroken after the abrupt end to her betrothal.
Not that I had seen her; she had returned to her father’s manor to lick her wounds and, most likely, plot my downfall.
I was surprised to find that I actually pitied her.
I wasn’t too worried about her though—something told me she would land on her feet like a resilient house cat.
I was, however, concerned about Solvardunn, with the war still raging and their wards now removed. For my own peace of mind, I asked my grandmother to arrange for new wards to be placed around the kingdom, so they would be alerted to any intruders or potential attacks.
In a move that surprised everyone, the king announced his intent to join the fight against Emperor Nicanor.
Hugo and Amalie didn’t know what prompted his sudden change of heart, only that he had made his proclamation the morning after the events in the forest. I had my suspicions that the king had somehow known about the wards long before I disabled them, which made me wonder how much he knew about Basia.
One way or another, I intended to find out.
My grandmother had been run off her feet since the curse had lifted. She worked tirelessly to address the changing needs of her kingdom, and had plans to meet with the Concilium to convince them to join the mortals in the war. If anyone could intimidate them into taking action, it would be her.
I hadn’t heard from Doran or Mae yet, but my grandmother told me Doran had gone to visit some old friends and was expected to return in a few days’ time.
It somewhat cheered me up to know that he could, once more, travel the world freely.
I hoped that Mae’s son had returned to Vantillios at last. The first thing I’d do when I got home would be to visit her and find out.
My grandmother said that many subjects of Vantillios had left to visit long-lost friends and loved ones. Supplies and resources had already been sent for, and negotiations of new trade agreements with the other kingdoms of Amaros were underway.
By no means were all the kingdom’s issues resolved through lifting the curse, but it certainly helped to deescalate much of the mounting tension.
I hadn’t used my elevated power again. I had no doubt that, once Doran returned from his trip, the two of us would begin training with my new ability. In the meantime, I was more than occupied with a new mystery.
Before we’d left the forest, I’d gone to retrieve the grimoire, only to find it gone.
I looked everywhere for it, but it had vanished.
At first, I’d hoped that one of the Vanorans had picked it up and taken it back to Vantillios, not knowing what it was.
But the warriors had been questioned and they all claimed not to have taken it.
The only explanation was that someone else must have made off with it.
But who? And why had the Crow been so desperate to have it?
My gut told me it had something to do with the mysterious numbers on the final page. They meant something. They had to.
What I knew for certain was that my busybody mind would not let me rest until I had some answers.
Despite all the good that had come from breaking the curse, I couldn’t enjoy it.
Not when Tarben still wasn’t talking to me.
I hadn’t seen him since the night of the forest and I knew he was avoiding me.
I was trying to be respectful of his request for space, but it felt like I’d lost something irreplaceable in a fire that I had started.
Since our last conversation, I hadn’t been able to enjoy the taste of food or rest peacefully when I slept.
My mind was saturated with thoughts of Tarben, reliving every conversation, every touch, every kiss.
He haunted my dreams and prowled my nightmares.
The ones where we were in love were the worst of all.
For a few blissful moments, I would wake up forgetting all that I had done to push him away but then, inevitably, cold reality collided into me and forced me to remember that he wasn’t mine. Not anymore.
The realization crushed my chest and dampened my eyes.
I was miserable. My constant companions were the stone in my stomach and the splinter in my heart. I went about my days trying as best as I could to ignore them. I continued on as though I wasn’t riddled with sadness and guilt until it became apparent that my mask, much like my heart, was cracked.
“He’ll come around. He loves you,” said Amalie, picking up on my mood. “Besides, he’s just as gloomy as you. Worse even, if you’d believe it.”
I wasn’t so convinced. I’d been careless with what had grown between us. I’d cut it off at the stem before it had a chance to blossom. What if Tarben’s feelings for me had changed? Maybe he realized that what he thought to be a rose was really just a weed masquerading as love.
Still, with monumental effort, I granted Tarben the space he had asked for.
It was not pride preventing me from banging on his door and begging his forgiveness—I was, shockingly, prepared to humble myself for him.
No, it was respect for his wishes that kept me away.
I owed him at least that much. Still, I didn’t know how much longer I could hold out for, especially because time was running out.
***
Three days had passed since the events of the forest and it was nearly time for me to return to Vantillios. But not until the following day because, to honor me, the king was hosting a farewell dinner that evening.
I prayed to Tuli that Tarben would be there.
I was desperate to speak to him before I left, to at least try to repair the damage I had caused.
I had made up my mind that I would pull him aside after dinner or, if he wasn’t there, I’d seek him out.
Either way, I had a speech prepared and I planned to apologize as many times as it took for him to forgive me.
Butterflies soared in my stomach at the thought of seeing him.
At the same time, my mouth went bone dry and my throat felt like it was closing.
I was undeniably nervous; I’d never cared for anyone enough to make myself so vulnerable.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that our entire future rested on our next conversation. On me.
But, for now, Amalie and I were at the cove at high tide—I had made a promise to the girl that I intended to fulfil.
“Are you ready?” I asked, as I stood in my undergarments on the final saltwater-stained step.
A breath of wind blew tiny ripples in the otherwise marble-smooth water.
My heart fluttered as my eyes drank in the ocean in front of me.
Home. Because it would forever be the place where I belonged.
And I would forever belong to it. It was branded into my bones.
Entwined with my soul. It flowed alongside the blood in my veins, and beat a rhythm into my heart.
No matter where I wandered, or how far I strayed, the ocean would always croon my name and shepherd my spirit.
From behind me, Amalie giggled. “I’m so excited. I can’t believe I didn’t see it after the shipwreck!”
I raised an eyebrow at her in question.
“Yes, I’m ready,” she beamed.
“Alright, count me down then,” I said, inhaling the briny air. My anticipation was laced with giddiness that felt like bubbles rising in my body. I felt lighter than I had in days as I prepared to return to my stronghold, my cradle, my unconditional love.
“Three…”
The call of the ocean was a sweet song. A ballad to welcome me back.
“Two…”
As I prepared to return to its loving embrace, I cast my eyes out to the dazzling water, a shimmering mirror in the late afternoon sunlight. I blinked. A handsome figure with golden hair and blue-green eyes appeared in its reflection.
Tarben had come.
“One…”
Smiling, I dove in headfirst.