Chapter 38
Lark
The words scrape my throat with iron when I tell them it can’t be me. I want it more than anything, but wanting and deserving aren’t the same thing. Not in this world, and not when all we’ve had we built on pretense.
We lied to the townsfolk, to each other, and to ourselves. Magic that demands true love won’t work on falsehoods.
Yet, it never felt false. Every moment with her felt like a dream I didn’t want to wake from.
“I wish I could be the one, but it won’t work.” My ears droop under my hat, and Hugo chirps his annoyance.
“You don’t love her?” Taynia asks.
“I do,” I admit. “More than I should. But it won’t be enough.”
Taynia studies me. “I suppose not. A princess and a Wild One would be folly.” Her sigh carries no venom, only simple acknowledgment.
Hugo squeaks another protest, sharper and more pointed, and it hits me.
Love isn’t only one thing. It isn’t always the kind that fills ballads. Sometimes it’s loyalty, family, the choice to make someone yours.
“There’s more than one kind of love, Your Majesty.
” I hold the flask out to the queen. “You’ve already given her one of the truest kinds.
You chose her as your daughter. The happy stories she shared—that love doesn’t vanish just because you locked your heart away.
She still loves you deep down, and I think you return that love. That’s true.”
Her gaze wavers between me and Talvie. “You think it will be enough?”
“I think you’re her best chance. Let yourself feel again; let the rest of the ice thaw. Fight for her like only a mother can. Please.”
Leaving is like wrenching my heart from my chest and walking away while it still beats, but I have to go. The kids were the first thing I ever wanted for myself. Talvie is the second. But while I can’t do anything about that last one, I can still go fight for the first. I can’t lose the kids too.
Nerves twist my stomach in knots, making the hall lights seem too bright and the walls feel too close. I should have been planning to face this alone all along, but I let myself hope I wouldn’t have to. Talvie’s been at my side, and I’ve been picturing her here with me, as my partner.
Folly, just like Queen Taynia said.
I hope this isn’t a foolish dream, too. What if I’m not good enough for this either? How will I keep moving if the sentries take the kids away?
The town hall smells faintly of wood polish over dust, its benches worn smooth.
Faded banners of Ylvara’s crest hang above the dais.
The beams overhead are stained dark, the whole place trying for stately but unable to hide the cracks in its plaster.
All those flaws are there, just below the surface, if anyone chooses to look…
I smooth that rogue lock of Johannes’s hair for the tenth time, only for him to sneeze and send it springing up again.
Kat gives me a pointed look. “Stop fidgeting.”
Easier said than done. I can’t have them looking anything less than perfectly cared for. Not today. Her wings twitch under her sweater, giving her away.
Sentry Niemi enters and says hello before he moves to take a seat at the front left corner of the room. My stomach clenches.
The double doors behind us creak open again. A line of bodies shuffles in. Many of the folk are familiar. Then more…and then more behind those.
I blink at the sight of Ludo from the tavern, his vivid green hair bright in the drab room. “What are you doing here?”
“We’re here for you,” he says, like it’s obvious. “All of us.”
And he’s not kidding. Folk continue to file in—shopkeepers, trade smiths, faces I know from the market—until the room is packed. Each greets me with a nod or a warm clasp to the shoulder. Hen the baker calls out my name. “You didn’t think we’d let you go through this alone, did you?”
Ludo grins. “Whole town’s here to support you. We’ve all seen you being an incredible father, and we’ll gladly say so.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. Storms, I wish Talvie were here. But this is what I have. And apparently it’s more than I realized.
If this works out, maybe I could put down roots here in Ylvara.
Could we raise enough for a little cottage of our own?
Could I stop the relentless urge to keep moving?
Hugo grunts from my pocket, bringing me back to reality.
There’s no point in making plans until we see what the board decides.
Facing forward again, I pick up my jaw and try to breathe.
The temporary buoyancy in my heart sinks when the door at the front opens and the board enters as one, their robes and expressions sharp. Leading the way, silver hair catching the light like polished steel, is Daria.
Daria?!
Sweet waters, Daria knows everything. Every lie and fake fiancée of it. Everything.
“Daria’s a sentry?” I murmur to Ludo.
“Yeah.” He shrugs as if that’s common knowledge.
“She volunteers. Takes in surly teens who need a placement sometimes,” he says, hooking a thumb toward himself.
“Don’t worry, she’s a good one. Anyone who could put up with my delinquent ass when I was a teen has got the patience of a saint. A little mess won’t rattle her.”
From the front of the room, Daria says, “Everyone take a seat.”
We sit. I sit. I’m not sure my body’s fully attached to my mind anymore.
At least I know nothing I say now will change the outcome. She already knows I’m a lying nobody who couldn’t even afford to rent a cottage on my own. This thing is already decided.
Daria takes charge with calm authority, because her being a sentry isn’t enough. No, she’s the Head Sentry on this board, meaning she’ll issue the final verdict in my case. Fantastic. We could probably just skip to that bit now.
My head hangs low while she begins by reading the facts of the case aloud, from our history at the orphanage to Frederik’s death.
It fails to hit me as hard as usual while I’m this numb.
When she reaches the part about the orphanage closing, there’s a note of sympathy in her tone, but it won’t matter.
I blink hard and turn to take in the room. The kids sit stoically, all staring forward except Mika, who stares at his hands. This is their history too, laid bare for everyone to hear. He looks up and gives me the smallest nod.
I grit my teeth and look past our row before my chest caves in.
Ludo catches my eye and winks for encouragement.
Chef offers me a smile from beside Hen, who gives me an approving head tilt.
Even the mother staying at Hollyhock Cottage (who complained about Helkki and the twins keeping her youngest up the other night) is here with a friendly smile and her hand pressed briefly over her heart.
I have to face forward before I lose my composure completely.
“Our job today,” Daria is saying, “is to make sure these childlings receive the best life they can have after already enduring such tragedies and hardships.”
It won’t be me then. I can’t give them a big house, steady schooling, fancy meals, or shining opportunities.
“To that end,” she continues.
Here it comes.
“This board has reviewed all…thirty-seven character recommendations submitted by members of the community.”
Say what now?
“This Sentry has also personally found Lark Hyveri to be a fae of upstanding moral character, generous of spirit, dependable, and incredibly capable in his own right.”
Her words barely register. My brain’s gone thick with fog that her next words have to slice through.
“If anyone knows of any reason these seven wards would not be best served in the permanent custody of Lark Hyveri, please step forward and speak now.”
The hall fills with shuffling. People glance at each other, but no one moves. My belly unclenches.
Is this…actually happening?
Then the big blacksmith stands and moves toward the aisle. My stomach knots right back up.
“I have something to say.”
I rack my brain. Did I offend this man somehow?
“I’ve spoken several times with Mikael Sokki,” he says, voice deep and steady. “It’s my understanding he’ll be of age in two moons’ time.”
I glance down the row to Mika, giving him a look that demands, When were you going to tell me this?
He offers only a little apologetic shrug.
“My partner and I are willing to take him on as an apprentice…er, if the family stays here in Ylvara.” The blacksmith gives me a solemn nod and returns to his seat.
I can’t even ask Mika what in the Deep just happened before the next person steps forward.
“My middle boy’s the same age as the twins,” Anja Thicket says warmly.
The Thickets live down the road from the inn and enjoyed a few nature walks with us.
“We’ve got a rotation of schooling they can slot right into.
Helkki too, of course, and little Aili when she’s old enough.
Lark’s already been a wonderful teacher, showing my boys all sorts of edible plants around here. We hope they’ll stay.”
The next speaker is a tall, reed-thin woman I’ve never spoken to. “As Ylvara’s only healer, I’m eager for the chance to train another. Katja’s shown a genuine talent and interest. I’d be happy to teach her whenever they feel she’s ready.”
Through it all, Daria listens, her mouth twitching once or twice as the list of offers grows. Occasionally she leans toward the other sentries, listening to hushed words passed between them. Finally, she raises a hand.
“Anyone with objections—or who has witnessed anything of concern to this board’s decision—please remain standing. The rest of you nitwits, sit down.”
The entire hall sits faster than I’ve ever seen a crowd sit before.
“Better,” Daria says dryly. She gives me a sharp look. “Now. About the joint petition with your fiancée.”
Ah. And just like that, the air thins in my lungs again.
I rub a hand over the back of my neck. “Right. About that…”
Her silver brow could slice me open from here.
“Things…have changed,” I manage. “Val isn’t actually—well, as you know, Daria…er Sentry Daria—”
Bang! Every head jerks toward the double doors crashing open behind us.
“Here! I’m here!”
Talvie barrels into the room, skirts flying, cheeks flushed with panic, spitting out words that tumble over each other in a desperate rush. “Sorry! I’m sorry I’m late. I can ex—ex…plain?” She skids to a stop, goggling at the vast crowd of people staring back at her.
The room fades. My breath catches in my throat, my heart squeezing hard enough to hurt. She’s upright. Walking. Talking.
She’s awake!
And she’s here.
Every knot in me comes loose in an instant, replaced by a dizzy, giddy rush that makes me want to run to her, hold her, swear I’ll never let her go. For a moment, nothing else matters. Not the board, not the crowded room, not the hearing.
Then I register her appearance: the midnight hair, the lighter skin, the shining blue eyes—she’s Val again. The disguise is back in place.
She came. For me.
After everything that’s happened, she’s ready to carry out our ruse. I see the instant she spots Daria standing stock still at the front of the room, and the color drains from her face, her jaw falling slack.
Only her. Only Talvie would walk right back into this complete disaster that is my life and fit so completely. She’s perfect.
Why do I suddenly want to laugh through the tears burning in my eyes?