CHAPTER ONE #2
I listened respectfully as a few additional words were spoken over the grave.
As the service concluded, I took up position next to Kaylin’s family, forming a short line so that we could acknowledge each attendee as they departed.
Even though I tended a lush garden behind the cottage, I hadn’t prepared any food or planned for a longer wake.
It was very late. The moon above glowed in full force, and the night air grew cold. People would be eager to journey home.
In fact, several attendees had left already, skipping the greeting line altogether and heading back toward the shore.
The lake that surrounded the island possessed exactly five river inlets—one for each kingdom.
Most would travel back via boat, following their respective rivers homeward.
As far as I was aware, this lake was the only place in the realm where the waters of each kingdom converged.
Moonlight shimmered across the surface of the lake, lighting the way home.
I’d always felt connected to the moon’s gentle radiance.
Sure, I planted my crops by its phases. And the cyclic nature of the moon was a common decorative motif around my cottage.
But it was more than that—a connection that ran deeper than appreciation alone.
Sometimes, I imagined the moon was trying to commune with me, to remind me of something I should have known but had forgotten.
A woman from Dewwick Village was the first through the greeting line, drawing my gaze back down from the moon. I failed to call forth her name from the recesses of my mind, but I did feel a small spark of recognition looking upon the wrinkled lines of her face.
Her voice was kind as she said, “Elvira! It’s been a while since you’ve come to the village.
I was just gutted to hear the news. Kaylin still had so much life to live.
She was what? Thirty-five? My deepest condolences.
I suppose she wasn’t really your mother though, was she?
Her poor daughter. A terrible thing to lose your mother at six years old.
Kaylin helped deliver my granddaughter—did you know?
We were so grateful when she started spending more and more time in the village instead of here at the island.
Such a blessing. You should consider doing the same.
Living here alone seems like more than one person could handle! ”
The woman gave my hand a sympathetic squeeze.
She moved along, but her words lingered, resonating through me.
Not her daughter. I couldn’t deny the truth of them.
No, I’d always known my place. Apprentice.
Never daughter. There had been other moments, at the orphanage, when I thought I might finally claim that title, but I’d resigned myself to never having a family of my own years before Kaylin showed up at its doorstep.
There were only so many times such hopes could be dashed before they permanently shriveled.
Kaylin had been very up-front about what she was offering me—the type of life we would lead together.
The way she told it, her mentor Juniper had ripped her from her family. At least she’d given me a choice.
I tensed as the next guest approached. He had an insignia embroidered on his uniform, marking him as an envoy from the Kingdom of Sivell.
Thus far, all of my knowledge about the five kingdoms had been gained from history books and Kaylin’s tutelage.
Travel had been discouraged during my apprenticeship, always with the same warning: The protection of the island does not extend past the lake’s shore.
But I could picture the exact page of the book that contained a detailed record of Sivell’s royal bloodline. It was ruled by a human king.
The envoy took my hand in a firm, finger-crushing handshake. “The Kingdom of Sivell offers you our sincerest condolences.”
I grinned through the pain. “I am grateful to King Cazzon for his thoughtfulness.”
The envoy departed, apparently satisfied with our short exchange.
I flexed my hand, waiting for the sensation in my fingers to return.
That handshake seemed rather…aggressive.
A threat? I tried not to dwell on it. At least we hadn’t spoken long enough for me to have possibly committed any errors in etiquette.
The next half hour passed in a blur of condolences.
The Fae left without introducing themselves. My relief at their departure was tempered by a small flicker of resentment. That they had bothered to attend, but not deigned to greet me. Like I was beneath their notice, wholly insignificant.
Kaylin’s family was the last to leave. I told them they could visit her gravestone whenever they wanted, despite knowing full well they would never take me up on that offer.
That I was now, and would likely be for some time, alone on this island.
Edwin feared the island, feared its magic like all the rest of the villagers.
Probably even blamed the island for Kaylin’s sudden illness and death.
Each rustle of wind caused my guests to shift their weight, gazes darting wildly around.
Part of me was surprised they’d even been willing to attend the funeral.
The clatter of oars being drawn faded into the night as everyone hastily departed.
Luckily, I had a plan to distract myself from the silence.
A plan that began with the ornate metal key in my pocket.
And the lantern in my hand. There was one benefit to having the island to myself—no one could keep me from exploring its secrets.
It was time to look at things with a fresh perspective.
I had smuggled the key out of the study on a day when Kaylin wasn’t around, but never attempted to use it on anything; brazen enough to take it, but not so bold as to risk getting caught breaking one of the few rules she actually enforced.
The artifacts of the library are to be left undisturbed.
Now that I was alone, I intended to test the key on at least one lock before going to bed.
I approached the large iron gate adjacent to the cemetery.
The gate was located on one side of a square iron fence.
Tall hedges formed a dome over its spiked pickets.
So dense and so prevalent, it was impossible to see into them, nor gain even a glimpse of what might be hiding inside.
It was also locked. Kaylin’s voice filled my head.
Locks are put in place for a reason, Elvira. Don’t concern yourself with the gate.
I withdrew the key from my pocket, admiring its intricate design.
Solemnly, I extended it toward the lock.
A nervous thrill of anticipation coursed down my spine as it sunk in the first half inch.
I pushed it forward and hit resistance. Disappointed, I turned the key over, attempting a different angle.
No success. I continued in that manner for longer than the key’s geometry really warranted, testing each unique rotation, but to no avail.
“So close!” I lamented. My exploration was not off to a particularly great start.
My shoulders slumped as I walked onward, plopping myself down in between the two largest oak trees on the island.
Every year at the Winter Solstice, the inauguration gateway appeared in this very spot.
It was one of my favorite places to visit, the faint swirl of magic on the wind never failing to improve my spirits. It was also something of a mystery.
Ever since I was a child, Kaylin would usher me away from the gateway, sternly demanding that I run along since it only accepted a single person through its doors.
What happened afterward, she refused to say.
She’d mentioned there was a gateway for every kingdom’s monarch—those beholden to the land and to its people.
And an inauguration ceremony, in which each monarch was expected to renew their vows.
But that was all I’d been taught. That, and the words to utter once it was my turn to venture through instead, passed down from her mentor before: For you I walk the moonlit path at midnight.
I spent a few additional moments contemplating my future.
My inheritance. Early on, I had been enthusiastic about my apprenticeship.
Kaylin used to share that enthusiasm. Had taken genuine pleasure in teaching me before she had a family to focus on as well.
But there were too many gaps in her own training.
She’d taught me many useful life skills, but almost nothing about what it actually meant to become the Midnight Sovereign. Even less about the island’s magic.
Somewhere along the way, her enthusiasm had curdled into frustration and fear.
Like refusing to explore the island. Or refusing to venture any farther than Dewwick Village, the closest settlement to our shores.
Fear gripped her tightly in its clutches.
Being with Edwin must have been the exception, must have made her feel safe.
Yet in the end, she died so young. I squeezed my eyes closed.
Was I destined to meet her same fate? Certainly, my enthusiasm for the position had waned, right alongside Kaylin’s interest in the island.
But my curiosity, that was still there. Burning bright within me.
Would it be enough to sustain me? It hadn’t extinguished, even after years of living in the dark.
I stifled a yawn, stretching my legs a moment before standing up. There were no more answers to be found tonight. And sleep was calling me. I carried my small lantern as I went, heading toward home. It was a decent walk from the oak trees back to the cottage.