Chapter 33 #2
Power surges. My own force grappling to meet it. I hear windows and doors thrust open. Air whips wildly, and I feel it. That flame deep inside me. The fire I always carried. And something else. Something new.
That heat. That light. That raging inferno.
It will not consume me.
I pull all the power flowing through me, refusing to surrender. Channeling it. I feel it building inside of my chest. Tight. My chest is so tight. It feels as though my ribs may splinter inward at the sheer force.
I keep fighting. Dragging in with all my might that light to keep away the darkness.
My eyes flutter. Not open yet, but enough.
“Mira, gods, come back to me, Mira.”
I hear voices. Ace perhaps. Others. All around.
My eyes open. I breathe. It’s not labored. Renewed. Easy even.
The heat subsides. The only light is that of the sun shining through opened glass. The wind fades to a gentle whisper.
Vale shudders, his own breathing broken, his face flushed with anger and fear.
I lift my hands to his face. “Ssh, it’s alright.
I’m well.” Words I’ve spoken before, now with more gravity and assurance.
“I’m still here,” I repeat my reassurances.
He pulls me close to his chest, not believing the miracle he holds in his arms.
He eases his hold just enough to give space between us, looking me up and down, scanning for injury.
None. There is none. I am untouched.
And yet…
I lift my hands, my fingers rubbing a spot just above my heart.
I felt it. What, though? Any question or concern I may have is brushed aside as I turn to Vale.
The powerful king, distraught. I look up at the faces around me.
Odrin, Ace, and a mix of guards all shielding me from the rest. Soria attempts to push her way into the huddle, but the guards stand shoulder to shoulder, waiting for Vale’s word.
Ace kneels down beside me, to the spot I collapsed upon only a moment ago, turned on my side lost in the pain. Was it pain? I’m not quite sure. I’ve never felt anything like that.
He reaches, and I see a dagger in his hand. I gasp and pull back. “Is that… Did… Wh-what happened?”
I struggle, wanting to make sense of it all, but more than anything I want to bring Vale peace. It pains me more than anything seeing him like this.
With my arms, I pull myself up to sitting. Vale shifts uneasily, starting to rise but not wanting to move away from me in even the slightest. I extend a hand, a silent plea, and he pulls me to standing next to him. Still surrounded by guards, the crowd stirs restlessly and concerned in the rows.
“Truly, are you well?” Vale continues, checking me for any sign.
“Shaken up, of course, but I can detect no harm.” Our eyes shift to the blade still in Ace’s hands, but I turn back to Vale.
“Let’s forget this whole ordeal. Please.
This kingdom is expecting a wedding.” I lean in, speaking only for him.
“We may not need it, but let’s continue for them.
” Standing tall, louder now, for the people, I say, “For Caerhollan.”
He squeezes my hands, then turns to the guards.
Odrin is the first to speak. “They’ve secured him.
We can deal with it soon enough m’lord. I do ask that me and some of my men stand near though.
” They nod in agreement. The guards ease their presence around us and I see the stunned looks on concerned faces all around.
Ace senses the tension in me and turns to face them, raising the blade.
“It’s a good thing she’s dressed like a queen,” he announces with a bravado only he can pull off.
“This wicked attack was stopped by none other than the famed Crown Jewels themselves.” He draws attention to the large stones around my neck, Vale still clutches me closely unsure the danger is fully passed.
“This foolish attack was no match for the glory of Caerhollan!” He tucks the knife under his arm to free his hands and claps.
The first strike before applause and cheering, both skeptical and devoted, thunders through the hall.
Vale’s eyes never stray from me as we walk arm in arm down the aisle. His vows are little more than performance with hidden concern, a far cry from the deep soul-bound truths we swore to each other the night before.
Vale’s hand trembles with my own. He flexes his fingers to soften his grip that instinct keeps pulling into a tightly wound fist.
The celebration as our nuptials conclude is a jubilant roar. It takes the priest several minutes and all of his patience to quiet the crowd, tempering them to something more solemn for the coronation to commence. A hush falls. Vale steps back, and I alone am at the center.
I kneel in front of the dais. The formality of already practiced events gives me time to process all that just happened.
Even if my mind can’t make sense of it, I slowly ingrain myself back within my own body.
The rise and fall of my chest. The beating of my heart.
The strength of my spine. Resolve coursing through my veins.
A presence stirs within me. The quiet undercurrent I have always known rises, no longer distant.
As the crowd cheers once more, I lift my head high. I rise, standing before all as their queen.
I am something new.
I am changed.