Chapter 28
Revna
Music and dancing were in full swing in the square and my heart was full.
I took a bite of boller, a cardamom bun filled with chocolate, made by one of the Nilurae bakers I frequented before the Trials.
Booths from all the locally owned shops lined the plaza, the sweet scents of sugar and fruit mingling with the aroma of freshly cooked meats.
The bright blue sky held no clouds. True to the changing of the seasons the festival celebrated, it was the warmest day we’d had this year.
The baker, Linnea, smiled at the obvious bliss on my face. “It’s been years since I had one of these,” I said through a full mouth.
She laughed. “That’s what we’re all saying.
Thank you for making it possible, Your Highness.
” I nodded graciously, but before I could reply, she leaned in and lowered her voice to a whisper.
“I’m not sure how you did it, but the Lurae are being cordial to us these days. I didn’t think it was possible.”
“I’m so glad to hear that.” My instinct was to reach for her hand and clasp it, but I held myself back.
Maybe Freja wasn’t flinching away from me anymore, but the rest of the Nilurae were still wary of me.
I saw it in their eyes—they watched me carefully, but the moment I turned to face them, they flicked their eyes away.
Fear is a powerful thing, I reminded myself. It would take time for that fear to fully leave them, considering Arne’s commitment to sharing what I’d done at the ball in Kryllian.
But I could be patient.
The moment I finished the last bite and wiped the chocolate from my fingers, a hand snagged mine and tugged me into a twirl. My skirt flared slightly, dark hair twisting around my head. By the time Freja stopped me, the world continued to spin.
“You look nice!” she said, raising her voice to be heard over the music. Feet stomped in unison, the square itself seeming to shake under the pressure. “I didn’t get to tell you before the delegation arrived. I don’t remember this dress.”
Steady once more, I held out my arms. “I commissioned a Nilurae seamstress to make it for me. I wanted something more casual for today.”
While the dress was more traditional than my usual garb as queen, no one would describe it as casual.
The red and gold fabric landed mid-calf, the skirts made up of several overlapping layers while managing not to feel or look heavy.
The bodice hugged tight, sleeves slipping off my shoulders and cinching around my wrists.
A brown leather corset laced up my back with gold ribbon, intricate golden patterns woven into it with delicate embroidery.
I’d asked S?ren to help me lace the corset this morning. The activities that followed nearly made us late to welcome the Queen of Kryllian.
“Your hair is incredible, too,” I told Freja. Her usual curls were woven tight to her scalp in a beautiful knotted braid that cascaded down her back.
“Thank you! My mother did it for me.”
We shared a smile as we looked out over the crowd.
Despite the occasional tense exchange, it was clear the people were intermingling far better than would have been possible mere weeks ago.
I readjusted the crown on my head, checking to make sure it was still carefully pinned in place.
“You did it,” I said, nudging her with my shoulder.
“This is incredible. And it was all you.”
“I know,” she said, hands clasped together. “It feels like everything is truly beginning to take a turn for the better.” She scanned the crowd, then frowned. “Where is S?ren?”
I shrugged, my fingers twisting together. “I’m not sure. I waited for him at the castle, but whatever report he’s giving to the queen must still be going. He’ll come down when he’s available, I’m sure.”
Truthfully, worry threatened to tie me in knots. What could the queen be asking of him that would take more than an hour? He’d been reporting to her regularly since our training began—surely there was nothing new left to say.
But I had to trust him.
I began to run through one of my breathing exercises. Despite my nerves, my Lurae song hadn’t flared up. Perhaps it was saving all its energy for later, when the queen would likely demand a demonstration of my control.
“Well,” Freja said, “hopefully it just means the queen is preparing a treaty as we speak. Perhaps she needed S?ren to write down all her incredible ideas for cooperation between our countries, so she wouldn’t forget them in the meantime.”
We stared at each other for a long moment. Then a laugh burst from both of us so forceful it nearly brought me to tears.
When we had finally calmed again, I watched the dancers spin, locking arms with their partners as the music crested. A flash of red hair caught the corner of my eye, and for a moment so minuscule it didn’t even last a heartbeat, I turned excitedly, expecting to see Frode there.
The face of a nameless stranger was a knife to my gut.
He would have loved this. I was certain of it.
The thoughts of the crowd would have overwhelmed him quickly, and he would have left to nurse a splitting headache—but he would have shown up and danced for as long as he could.
At least here he would have been overwhelmed by happy thoughts.
A stark difference from the thoughts of the dying that had plagued him incessantly on the war front.
I wanted him back. The knowledge hung heavy in front of me. I had everything I wanted except for Frode. Even S?ren and I were learning to trust each other again, moving past the impossible hurdles keeping us apart. But it didn’t make up for the hole in my chest.
“Revna?” When I turned to look at Freja, it was obvious she’d said my name multiple times.
The sympathy on her face made it clear she knew where my thoughts had gone.
For a swift, short moment, I wished she was queen instead of me.
I didn’t want to be here, negotiating treaties and making speeches.
I wanted to curl up in bed and tell S?ren all my stories of Frode again.
I wanted to run away and leave all my responsibilities behind.
S?ren could take me to the wastes, where my brother’s ghost resided and where we could have a chance to speak again.
Freja looped her arm around mine. “Join me for the next dance. I’m teaching Astrid, but she should learn the steps from you. You’re a far better dancer than me.”
My instinct was to refuse. Freezing felt easier, sinking into a corner and denying that life moved on around me. Especially considering how much my worries threatened to drown me. But I swallowed and forced myself to nod. “Yes. Let’s dance.”
I lost myself in the music and the rhythm, the familiar steps that had guided my childhood and teenage years into rebellious adulthood.
At first, it took all my concentration to keep from slipping back into the uncertainties and sadness.
But by the third dance, I managed to anchor in my muscle memory.
The festivalgoers were mostly Nilurae. While some Lurae lingered at the edges of the event, not many had stepped fully in.
I caught a glimpse of Volkan laughing at something Halvar—Jac—said.
Freja giggled when Astrid stumbled and got turned around next to us, gently putting her hands on the teleporter’s shoulders to realign her as the music continued.
The song came to an end and we paused, everyone breathing heavily. I caught sight of a little girl, no older than ten, standing nervously at the edge of the dance floor. One of the musicians stood on his chair, cupping his hands around his mouth and announcing, “Up next, we’ll play the bygdedans!”
One of my favorites—and a simple one to get the hang of. Freja and Astrid were occupied, the former trying to explain a dance step to the latter with a complicated series of made-up gestures that had no real sign language equivalent, so I stepped over to the young girl.
Her eyes widened as she recognized me, noticing the crown I wore, and she wrapped her arms around herself. I bent down to reach her height. “You look like you want to dance.”
She peered up at me between her lashes and nodded. “I don’t know how, though.”
Maybe she was Lurae and hadn’t grown up learning, the way most Nilurae did. Maybe she just hadn’t had the chance. Either way, I shrugged and beckoned for her to follow me. “This one is easy. I can teach you.”
“But—”
I glanced back at her. She appeared befuddled. “You’re the queen.”
I laughed. “I wasn’t always. And I’m also just a person.”
My words seemed to steady her. She set her shoulders and followed me into the crowd just as the music began.
The musicians played, and the dancing began. With every crescendo we spun, skirts flaring in a brilliant burst of color. The girl I’d pulled into the dance caught on quick, and soon Freja and Astrid had her laughing and learning bits and pieces of sign.
Another hour passed. The Queen of Kryllian arrived, two of her guards flanking her. Freja and Astrid escorted her to a shaded, open tent set up for her to observe. When she and I made eye contact, I offered her a cordial smile.
And yet, still no sign of S?ren.
The festivities continued. Slowly, the Lurae began to join the fray.
A few stood along the edges, watching with wary eyes—the soldiers who hadn’t been impressed when I defeated them in sparring.
Arne stood among them, arms crossed. There were others who refused to participate, too.
Faces I didn’t recognize. Perhaps soldiers who had declined the offer to spar.
I stepped away from the dancing and went to the queen. “How are you enjoying things? Can my people get you some food?”
Her gaze was piercing. She leaned her chin against one hand, surveying the dancing. “I’m not sure how you’ve managed to bring these people together, but I’m impressed.”