Chapter 19 #2
I squeeze my eyes shut. Breathe. Gods, just breathe, Daisy.
I drag in a slow inhale, forcing the air deep into my lungs until it burns.
My fingers curl against my palms, tiny stings from the shards of glass grounding me as I hold my breath, pausing for a moment before pushing the breath back through my nose.
Again. In. Out. In. Out. Slowly, I feel the fire fading.
The flames licking across my skin flicker, weaker and weaker, until the heat finally retreats beneath the surface of my flesh.
The last sparks die out with a faint hiss in the quiet room.
And suddenly, I feel empty. Like whatever had been raging inside me has burned itself out, leaving nothing but a husk behind.
“Good. Well done.” I feel Aran’s hand closing gently over mine.
I crack my eyes open to see him crouched beside the bed, holding my hands between his like he’s doing all he can to anchor me to the world again.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice already breaking. “I’m just… I can’t. Aran. I can’t do this anymore.”
The words crumble apart as a sob tears free. Hot tears spill down my face faster than I can stop them, blurring everything in front of me. Aran rises immediately and sits beside me on the bed, pulling me against his chest without an ounce of hesitation.
“Shhh. Hey, it’s okay. I know. I know it’s hard, Daisy.” His voice is soft and calming. “I’m so sorry you went through all of that the other day.”
I know I must sound pathetic. Like some whining brat who can’t handle the weight of the crown that has been placed upon her head.
The women in the stories I used to read would never behave like this.
The fae queens and warrior princesses in those books faced war and death with steady hands, and noble speeches.
They didn’t collapse into sobs, or beg to run away.
But I am not one of them. I’m not some fearless fae princess raised for battle and crowns and kingdoms. I was never meant for any of this.
It doesn’t matter who I was before. None of that changes the truth clawing at my chest right now. I was not built for this shit.
“He was just a boy, Aran. Just a small fucking boy.” I sob, breaths gasping out of me as my entire body shakes violently against him. “I hate this. I hate them. I hate it all. I just want to leave.” Theodus’s bright eyes flash through my mind again, and the ache in my chest is indescribable.
Aran doesn’t respond straight away. He just holds me. One hand moves slowly through my hair, his fingers threading gently through the tangled strands, while the other rubs slow, steady circles across my back, as though he’s soothing a small child.
“I’ll take you home,” he says softly.
My head jerks up and I blink rapidly at him. Did he just say… “What?” I ask, wiping away the tears at my eyes.
He offers a tight-lipped smile, wiping away a tear from my cheek.
“I said, I’ll take you home. This isn’t your battle.
It was meant to be Korithax’s. You don’t deserve this.
Any of it.” He releases me and stands, brushing invisible lint off his trousers.
“Your apartment’s still there. Korithax bought it when you got married, in case you ever needed to escape him for a while. ” He smirks.
A laugh bubbles up, bursting out, which collapses into another sob.
“Well, you can’t say he doesn’t think ahead, I guess.
I bet he never thought I’d be returning because he died and there’s a war raging on, though.
” My tone sinks, and I watch as Aran looks me over with pity in his eyes.
I hate that look. I hate being pitied. But here I am, throwing my own pity party, trying to run away and give up.
I frown, twisting my hands together. “Has anything happened whilst I’ve been, y’know?” I gesture to the bed.
“Melisana said she told you about the spires.” I nod with a grim expression. “All the leaders know Velentha is here,” he says, giving me one of those awkward smiles, running a hand through his hair.
“What?! Is she okay?”
He huffs a laugh. “Yeah. I kind of threatened to kill them all if they tried to harm her.”
I choke on a laugh. “You did what?”
“I don’t take kindly to people who threaten what’s mine,” he shrugs.
“Besides, it worked. Sariya and Elyistria made everyone swear they wouldn’t touch her.
We just kind of needed you to tell everyone else so nobody else tries to harm her.
Then she can roam freely. But it’s okay.
I’ll figure something else out after I get you home. ”
I sigh and pick at the hangnail on my thumb until a small bead of blood appears. “I can’t, can I?” I say softly.
“You can’t what?” he asks, tilting his head slightly. The light from the windows catches the curve of his emerald horns, make them shimmer faintly as he studies me.
“I can’t leave.”
For a moment, he just looks at me. Then he exhales softly, like something inside him already accepted an answer I haven’t spoken yet.
“You can,” he says gently. “I said I’d take you. I’ll find a way to keep you hidden so they don’t find you.” His voice is calm, steady, but there’s something strained beneath it. Like he’s forcing words past something heavier lodged in his chest.
“It’s okay to not want to do this,” he continues. “Hell, I don’t want to do this. Just some of us don’t get a choice in this war. But just because we don’t, doesn’t mean you can’t have a choice. You deserve happiness, Daisy.”
He walks back over and perches on the edge of the bed, taking my hands in his again. His fingers close around mine carefully, almost reverently. “I will always cherish the time I got to have with you. As my friend, and my queen.”
Something flickers across his face then—a shadow.
His jaw tightens slightly, and for a heartbeat, his eyes drop to our joined hands like he can’t quite bring himself to meet my gaze.
I’d know that look anywhere. It’s guilt.
The realisation sends a small ripple of confusion and unease through me. Why would he look guilty?
“You are one in a million, Daisy,” he says, lifting his eyes again. “And when this is all over, if we survive, I promise to visit you as much as I can.” The shine of tears in his eyes makes my own spill over again.
“No,” I whisper, shaking my head as the truth settles heavily in my chest. “I can’t.” My fingers tighten around his. “What kind of person would I be to turn my back on my kingdom? My friends…” I squeeze his hands, offering him a tight smile. “My family.”
Something shifts in his expression at that word.
Family. And just for a second, the guilt in his eyes deepens before he hides it away.
It’s his turn for the tears to fall and we both softly laugh together at how ridiculous we look.
“I just… I just need to go see Ezra. Just one last time before I zone in on this bullshit. Please. I can’t wait any longer, Aran. ”
He nods once, using the back of his hand to wipe at his cheeks. “Of course. Get ready and I’ll be back in half an hour.” He stands and heads to the door, opening it on creaky hinges. Before he exits, he turns to look over his shoulder. “Thank you, Daisy.” He smiles.
“For what?” I say, furrowing my brows in confusion.
“For not walking away when you had every opportunity to do so. We are lucky to have you as our queen.” And with that, he’s gone, the door softly clicking behind him and fresh tears falling once again.
I’m standing in my apartment, and it feels like nothing has changed at all.
The air is still. Quiet in that particular way homes get when no one has been inside them for too long. It doesn’t feel like I was last here two months ago. January third. The day when everything changed.
My Christmas tree still leans in the corner of the living room, slightly crooked where I’d never bothered fixing it.
The fairy lights long dead, their thin wires tangled through dry brittle branches that have shed most of their needles onto the floor.
My plants have shrivelled and died. Dust clings to everything.
It floats lazily through the afternoon light spilling in from the window, tiny specks drifting like slow-falling snow.
The room smells faintly stale, the kind of scent that only builds when a place is abandoned.
The summoning circle is still burned into the flooring, a faint rust-brown stain where the blood dried.
A map of desperation. The place where I screamed Korithax’s name until my throat tore itself apart.
My stomach twists. Gods. That feels like a lifetime ago.
How has so much gone wrong, in such little time?
My gaze drifts slowly around the room, taking in the familiar things I once thought were the entire world.
The small television sits on its stand across from the worn couch, the screen coated with a thin layer of dust. The remote lies exactly where I must have dropped it, half buried beneath a folded blanket.
A stack of books rests on a wonky shelf beside the sofa.
My books. Fantasy novels with bent spines and worn pages from being read too many times.
Stories about bravery and fearless warriors and girls, who always knew exactly what to do when the world demanded something impossible of them.
I stare at them for a moment longer than I meant to.
I used to lose myself in those stories. Used to imagine what it would feel like to live inside them.
Now I know. And somehow… none of it feels comforting anymore.
All these little pieces of the life I once lived sit exactly where I left them.
Mundane. Quiet. Safe. Everything I once thought I wanted. Everything I once thought had mattered.
But standing here now, after everything I’ve seen in Hell, in all of those other realms, after everything I’ve lost—it all feels strangely small. Like I’m standing here and looking at someone else’s life rather than my own.