Chapter 32 Serena
SERENA
Inever thought of grief as a privilege. But it turns out bereavement is a luxury only afforded when you’re not under siege.
The council room is eerily quiet.
I stare blankly out the shattered stained-glass window, trying to make sense of the last two hours.
Everything happened so fast.
I can’t scrub the image from my mind no matter how hard I try. Every time I blink, I see Derek’s brown eyes, the eyes of my father, staring up into the sky, frozen and unseeing.
An old wound opened up in that moment. One I’d almost forgotten about until now. Until once again, Death came to collect her due.
I wanted to know him. I wanted to be close to him. But we didn’t have enough time. We never do.
“Lady Serena.”
My eyes slide to Lord Gronwen, Master of Coin and one of Derek’s closest advisors. He stands across from me, fingers steepled over the table, blue-black hair streaming past his shoulders.
“I’m sorry, what?”
He sighs through his nose. “How did this happen?”
It’s Zadyn who answers for me. “Right before Serena decimated them, one of the Stryga lunged for Jace while his back was turned. Derek threw himself between them.”
Jace sits in the seat designated for the Hand of the King, to the right of Derek’s seat.
But he isn’t there. He never will be again.
Jace’s face is vacant as he stares into the gouges in the wooden table and the freshly dried bloodstains across its surface. He hasn’t said a word since it happened. I know the guilt is eating him up inside.
Gronwen runs a hand over his face, looking exhausted. The High Priest and Lord Conwell, Derek’s Head of Records, exchange a grave look.
“Who knows about this?” Gronwen presses.
“Our friends and the people in this room,” Zadyn responds.
I finally locate my voice. “Sorscha doesn’t know yet. We have to tell her. She should be here for this.”
“We tell no one else until we’ve agreed on a course of action.”
I cock my head at the finality in his voice. “You want to keep his death a secret? From his own daughter?”
“Until the right time, yes.”
“I think that’s up to the Hand, don’t you agree?”
Gronwen bristles at my challenge, then gives me a sympathetic smile.
“I’ve been around for the changing of kings before.
I’ve seen enough to know that information like this is delicate.
In the absence of a ruler, it is easy for things to fall apart, for empires to crumble.
I will not allow my friend’s legacy to collapse due to such a grave oversight.
Emotions have no place inside this room.
If you cannot accept that, Dragon Rider, then by all means, you are dismissed. ”
I open my mouth, and then close it. I’ve never liked this male—never trusted this male. But I can feel the sincerity of his words, read the underlying twinge of pain in his eyes that he’s trying very hard to repress.
So I sit down and shut up.
He inhales slowly, turning to pace around the room. Broken glass crunches beneath his boots.
“In his absence, the king has named the current Hand, Jace Fallyn, as his regent.”
Jace blinks up at him. His eyes are glassy and far-off, though I haven’t seen so much as a tear from him.
“But Sorscha is his heir. She’s of age.”
“The princess is not capable of running this kingdom alone. It was a decision we discussed at length. You are to rule in his late majesty’s stead until her coronation.”
Jace shakes his head. “I…I can’t. I can’t be king.”
“King regent. Until you wed the princess. Then you will ascend as king consort.” Going off Jace’s horrified expression, Gronwen softens his voice. “This was the plan all along.”
I look at Jace. The hard lines of his face, the crease between his brows, the clenched fists that have seen more battle and bloodshed than I could ever fathom.
He is a warrior. And right now, he is lost. Afraid.
“You can do this.” Jace’s molten gaze lifts to mine. “He trained you for this. He chose you.”
What if he chose wrong? Jace’s expression says.
I shake my head, wishing I could jump across the table and shake away all of his doubt. Tell him that he’s perfect and that choosing him could never be wrong—could never be a mistake.
He turns his tormented eyes to Gronwen and nods.
“Then that’s settled.”
“But I’m not keeping Derek’s death from Sorscha. He’s her father. She deserves to know.”
“And the public?”
Jace pitches him a dark look.
“If word spreads that the attack was successful and that the king perished at enemy hands…well, you can see how the optics are less than desirable.”
“What would you have people believe?”
“Leave that to me. With the proper frame, the picture won’t appear so bleak.”
“Fine. Do what you will.”
“As you wish, Sire. Now,” Gronwen continues, his voice perfectly diplomatic, “it seems that war is upon us.”
“What does Vod want?” Lord Conwell asks.
“Me.”
Every head swings in my direction.
“Kylian is coming for me. And for Aegar. He wants all five kingdoms, and now he has control of the portal. Those creatures can pop up here anytime.”
“The castle is secure. For now. The ward masons are working on repairs as we speak.”
“How many dead?” Lord Conwell turns to Sir Max, standing behind Jace, bruises and cuts scattered around his face and neck.
“So far the body count is near two hundred. We lost a good deal of men, but we were able to get most of the servants, the females, and children to the tunnels before they breached the keep.”
My heart flutters. I pray Igrid made it to the tunnels alive.
“I’ll alert the nobles. Tell them to ready their armies,” Conwell says, scribbling across his stationery.
The High Priest’s age-weathered voice spreads through the room. “The portal presents a pressing issue.”
“I’ll go to Hyrax.” I rise.
Zadyn joins me. “We’ll gather support from Berringer and figure out a way to stop anything else from crossing over.”
“I’ll go with you,” Jace offers, but Gronwen shakes his head and taps the table.
“You are needed here, your Grace.” Jace blanches at the title. “If it’s the Dragon Rider Kylian is after, we can certainly expect more attacks.”
“What are you suggesting?” I ask. “That this won’t stop until I give myself up?”
Jace’s body goes rigid.
“What I’m suggesting, girl, is that you take the head start on offer and get as far from here as you can. This place is no longer safe for you. Or that dragon of yours.”
A chill skates down my spine at his unfiltered warning. I find Jace looking at me, his expression forlorn.
Turning to Zadyn, I say, “We’ll leave tonight.”
“I’ll pack a bag. Meet you in your room in ten,” Zadyn says as we bustle down the hall.
I try to stay focused as we split off. I can fall apart later. But for now, I have to stay strong. For Jace. For Derek.
“Don’t go.”
I freeze, neglecting the heap of clothes I was stuffing into a sack. Jace is leaning against my door frame, his face hollow.
“I have to.”
“Serena.” He shakes his head, closing the gap between us. “I just got you back. I don’t want you out of my sight. Not now.”
He has no idea how badly I want to be here to help him through this. Because I know what a loss like this tastes like.
Ash and nightmares.
And no matter what there is between us, this undefined thing hanging overhead, I wouldn’t want anyone to go through this alone.
But I can’t stay. Not even for him.
I turn back to the bed to finish packing. “Jace, I have to do this. That portal has to be dealt with. And Aegar needs a king. You’re the only one Derek trusted enough to lead. You belong here.”
He moves in front of me. “I belong wherever you are. Nothing matters as much as this. Not anymore.” His hands slide into my hair, and I involuntarily breathe in his smoky scent. “Let me keep you safe.”
“You know I don’t want to leave you.”
“Then stay. Fuck the consequences. Just be with me.”
“What are you saying?”
“Tell me not to marry her.”
My heart stops.
“What?”
He waits, knowing full well I heard his words clear as day.
“Stay with me. Marry me.”
I blink up into eyes I have known in another life. My human life. But here I am in a new world, and still, I can’t stop history from repeating.
I push him away like I did Jack.
I deny myself.
I deny him.
“I can’t.”
“You want to be with me. I know you do.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it does.”
My heart lodges in my throat. “Jace, I care about you, I do. But nothing has changed here.”
“Everything has changed. You were taken, and I—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “I’ll go to Sorscha right now and tell her I can’t marry her.”
I take a step back, putting some space between us. “She just lost her father, Jace. You don’t know what you’re saying, you’re in shock right now. We both are—”
“I’ve never had more clarity in my life.”
I give him a look. “You know it’s not that simple.”
“What if it could be?” His golden eyes are filled with frantic, desperate hope. He moves closer, crowding me, making it hard to think.
“This is the only thing that has ever made sense to me, and I can’t fight it any longer. I’m yours. I was yours before I ever knew it.”
“Jace, you know how I feel, but I—we can’t. You can’t.”
He dips down and guides me forward until our foreheads meet. “The only thing I can’t do is live without you.”
I give myself two seconds to savor this. Him holding me. And in those two seconds, I realize something.
One: It took him coming all the way to Vod, bringing me back from the brink of death, to realize what I mean to him.
Two: It’s too little. Far too late.
The door swings open, and Zadyn appears. “Time to go.”
I pull back to look at Jace. We search each other’s eyes for what feels like an eternity, his question lingering like mist in the air. My answer dies on my tongue.
I pull his hands from my hair and plant a kiss on his knuckles.
Then with my heart stuck in my throat, I turn my back on him.
On the new King of Aegar.
And I don’t look back.