Chapter 38
Chapter
Thirty-Eight
Araya stood at a window on the upper level of Lumaria’s central hall, staring out over streets that had been shrouded in silence and despair for the past twenty years.
But not today. Today, golden sunlight poured down over the cobblestones, chasing the darkness back into the corners where it belonged.
Except for the ones that surrounded Loren, of course.
Araya stroked the little shadow that was so fond of her, smiling at how it splayed itself out on the sun-drenched windowsill. Who could have ever imagined that the shadows could ever love the light?
Loren slid his arms around her waist, dropping his chin to her head. “It doesn’t feel like much of a funeral, does it?”
Araya smiled down at the crowd below, fae of all ages jostling for the chance to catch the first glimpse of their new king. Children darted through the crowd, their laughter ringing out over jubilant music, faces alight with hope Araya could feel even from here.
“They have a lot to celebrate.” Araya turned in his arms, smiling up at him. “The lifting of the shadows, their new king—it’s all worth celebrating, Loren.”
“My beautiful mate is to thank for the lifting of the shadows.” Loren laughed, and Araya’s heart ached with the light in it even as her smile faltered. “And my return. So they should all be celebrating you.”
“I’m not sure everyone would agree with that.
” Araya looked away, running her hands over the rich green fabric of his doublet and tracing where the sunlight glimmered on the silver thread.
Her fingers lingered at his collar, smoothing a barely-there wrinkle.
“The Small Council doesn’t seem to like me very much. Do you think your parents—”
“Eloria’s Small Council can rot.” Loren stilled her hand with his own, lifting it to his lips.
“My mother would have adored you. And my father...he loved my mother. He loved her more than he loved his crown, more than he loved anything else in this world. He would be overjoyed that I’d found a mate who made me want to be a better male and a better king, no matter how we came to be. ”
“You do look the part.” Araya blinked hard, reaching up to touch the silver circlet resting just above his brow. She dragged her fingertips down, following the sharp line of his cheekbone and tracing the curve of his smile.
“So do you,” he said, nipping at her fingers.
“Eloria outdid herself,” Araya said, smoothing her hands over the somber violet gown. The princess had sacrificed a significant portion of her own wardrobe so Araya could have clothing fitting her station, determined to believe in a future where her brother ruled alongside his mate.
“I don’t want to think about my sister right now.” Loren’s gaze lingered on her, his lips curving into a smile that made heat crawl up her neck. Gods, the way he looked at her now…like he could devour her right here, ceremony be damned.
Unable to resist, Araya rose on her toes to brush a kiss over Loren’s lips.
He met her eagerly, his hands sliding up her back, pressing all of her softness against the hard lines of his body.
Heat coiled low in her belly, her breath quickening as his lips trailing from her mouth to the corner of her jaw—
“Are you two ready?”
Araya sprang back so quickly she nearly tripped. Loren steadied her, his jaw flexing as he glared over the top of her head at his sister.
“I remember what it’s like to be newly mated, but these are my rooms.” Eloria wrinkled her nose, sweeping into the chamber in a swish of deep green silk. “Don’t defile them with your rutting. You’ve already driven poor Thorne right out of Ithralis.”
Araya covered her face with her hands, her cheeks burning as she smothered a laugh.
“Maybe next time he’ll knock,” Loren growled. But he dragged a hand over his face, straightening his clothes. “Is it time?”
Eloria nodded. “They’re ready for us.”
Araya took Loren’s arm, letting him lead her into the hall where Galen already waited, his expression uncharacteristically solemn as he took his mate’s hand.
Together, the four of them descended without speaking, their footsteps echoing off the polished stone floors as they entered the central hall.
Here, silence reigned, the noise of the crowd celebrating outside muted by stone walls and heavy doors.
The air grew still, heavy with fragrant smoke from the bier the High Luminary had assembled.
Araya breathed deeply, inhaling the sharp scent of clove and cedar.
What prayers had the High Luminary spoken to finally lay their king to rest after all this time?
Absent a body to bathe and shroud, they’d cleaned his bones, polishing them until they glowed against the dark velvet. Every fragment was accounted for, arranged with painstaking reverence. His crown sat at the head of the bier, a gleaming masterpiece of silver and onyx obsidian.
Eloria stepped forward, tears already dripping down her cheeks. Loren paused just long enough to press a kiss against Araya’s knuckles, the little shadow detaching itself from him to curl around her shoulders as he turned to join his sister at his father’s side.
Araya stood back, swallowing hard as his grief flooded their bond. She’d been too young to mourn her own father when he died, his memory nothing but a shadow in her heart. But Loren’s sorrow filled that emptiness, wrapping around her until it felt like her own heart was breaking beside his.
“So it’s true,” a voice murmured at her shoulder. “The shadows really can be tamed.”
The little shadow arched around her neck, hissing. But Eryn ignored it, catching her hand and bowing low to brush his lips across her knuckles.
“Lord Duskrun.” Araya pulled her hand back, stroking the little shadow soothingly. She’d make no friends here if Loren’s shadows started attacking his advisors. “You startled me.”
“I could say the same for you.” Eryn straightened, a faint smile on his lips. “I have to admit, I’m impressed. You’ve given them hope—something I’d long ago written off as impossible. It might not have been the wisest course of action, but you did do it.”
Eryn chuckled, but his eyes were cold as he studied the shadow on her shoulders, its ephemeral tail flicking back and forth.
“Hope is a fickle beast, Miss Starwind. It can lift the spirits and rally the heart—but it can also blind.” He looked past her, his gaze lingering on Loren and Eloria where they spoke quietly with the High Luminary.
“I thought we were like-minded in understanding that sometimes surrender is the wiser path. But you’ve made that all but impossible now, haven’t you? ”
Araya stared at the spymaster, a chill blooming in her chest. Across the room, Loren’s head snapped up, his eyes finding her as her fear bled into the bond between them.
“Have you heard something?” she whispered.
“Nothing I can share.” Eryn sighed, studying her with open pity. “I just hope, for all our sakes, that the path you’ve set us on is a course we can survive.”
“What—” Araya started, but Loren’s hand closed around her elbow, shadows racing up her body to join the one he’d left behind, shielding her.
“Step away from her,” he snapped, glaring at the spymaster.
“As you wish, Your Majesty.” Eryn bowed, stepping back easily. “I was just complimenting your lovely mate on her…accomplishments. Not only did she survive the shadows, she made herself a queen. Truly extraordinary.”
“She is,” Loren growled, the temperature around them dropping. “Now, leave her alone.”
Eryn laughed, unperturbed. “Good luck, Miss Starwind.”
Araya stared after the spymaster as he melted back into the cluster of councilors. “That was rude,” she murmured, half-heartedly chiding Loren as he tugged her close again.
“What did he say to you?” Loren demanded.
“Exactly what he told you he did.” Araya rubbed her hands over her bare arms, glancing back after the spymaster again. “He was…strange about it. But he didn’t hurt me.”
“He upset you,” Loren snapped. “I felt it.”
“Upsetting me isn’t a crime.” Araya pinched his side. “You need your advisors. You’re going to be king.”
“I am king.” Loren captured her hand in his, narrowly evading getting pinched again. “Eloria just told me. Coronation or no coronation—the Small Council voted to formally recognize me this morning.”
“You’re king,” Araya echoed. She searched his face, not sure what to make of the confused tangle of emotions between them. “So…what now?”
“Now, you keep doing exactly what I tell you to,” Eloria said, ignoring Loren’s long-suffering sigh as she swept up to them. “We still have the public address to get through. And the mingling after. Here—Galen will show you where to stand.”
Loren never let go of her hand as they were guided into position, standing just behind the wide double doors that led to the upper landing.
Eloria and Galen moved to take the lead, the princess’s spine straight as a blade as she prepared to face the fae people as their princess regent one final time.
“Don’t miss your cue,” Galen said, casting one of his mischievous grins over his shoulder at them. “She’ll string you up. King or not.”
Before either of them could answer, the great doors swung open with a groan of polished wood.
Eloria stepped forward first, her smile so radiant it rivaled the sunlight pouring down onto the square beyond.
Galen moved forward beside her, the cheering rising to a roar as they stepped out onto the landing above the central square.
“Thank you—” Eloria raised her hand, waving at the crowd until the cheering settled. “Thank you all, so much, for coming to pay your respects to my father—who gave his life so many years ago so that we might live.
She paused, her voice clear even as emotion tightened it. “For two decades, we have mourned him. For two decades, we’ve endured the shadows. And through it all, you’ve kept faith with me, holding on despite the despair that threatened to swallow us whole.”