Tobias
Returning to Morehaven filled me with an aching sense of dread.
It hadn’t taken long to shower and gather the few things I would need for the weekend, leaving me to stew in my unease.
Eva kept a room ready for me in Morehaven that I never used if I could avoid it.
My suit for the ceremony was already pressed and waiting as well as a closet full of clothing I had never worn—though I had no doubt would fit me perfectly.
Snagging the book I had been reading from my bedside, I tucked it under one arm before heading downstairs to wait for Quinn.
I wondered fleetingly if there was any way out of attending. But even if my sister didn’t want me there, which was obviously not the case by the number of missives I had gotten from her leading up to the event, it was important that I attend as the king of one of the kingdoms under her rule.
After spending most of her life in the human realm, Eva had struggled since the war to show that she belonged in her new role.
Despite coming out of the Choosing with a crown on her head and the magic of the land coursing through her, the misinformation Aviel had spread during the war had perpetuated even after his death.
Many were still wary of the young High Queen whose formative years had been spent thinking she was human.
It didn’t help that she was changing the order of the faerie realm with her push toward democracy.
Despite the positive reception from the other rulers of Agadot, Aviel’s former supporters had switched from outright attacks to a whisper campaign questioning the foreign ideologies Eva brought with her from the human realm.
Nevermind the fact that a representative form of government was working perfectly well in Soleara and was entirely based on our mother’s blueprint.
And I knew my sister, despite our years apart.
A public bonding ceremony in Morehaven wouldn’t have been her choice.
It was calculated; a political strategy my mother would’ve been proud of after all those strategy sessions at our kitchen table growing up.
Eva hadn’t done a public ceremony after becoming High Queen, not when she had been focused on the rebuilding effort.
With the vocal minority of those who sought to dethrone her growing louder, this ceremony was a show of unity and a reminder of who had been chosen to lead by the magic of the land.
She was smart to host it at the seat of her power.
The entire event was obviously meant to help legitimize her rule, and helpfully featured the former King of Imyr, who had been born and raised in this realm.
Eva and Bash may have already been bonded, but this was a chance to show their shared strength and extend a hand to those who remained wary of her competence and integrity.
I could do this. I would do this, for her.
After so many years of failing her, it was the least I could do.
My stomach roiled, but I forced my feelings down.
Locking my fear away in a carefully constructed cage deep within me was second nature by now.
Focusing inward, I blocked out everything that plagued me behind protective ley lines, compartmentalized within the thick mental shields I had spent every day of my imprisonment perfecting.
For four long, dark years I held that line, even as my own blood and magic was used to betray me—betray her.
All I could do was hope those shields would be enough to keep even the slightest detail about my sister, and the then-hidden kingdom of Soleara, from the monster that forced me into that mask.
Aviel had done everything he could to force his way through short of killing me.
Each attempt to breach my defenses left me certain he would finally go too far and finish the job.
As I listened to the steady drip of moisture in that musty cell day after endless day, I had prayed that those mental walls plus the fortitude of sheer stubbornness would be able to keep me from breaking entirely.
Somehow, those carefully built compartments—my mental prison in which I was the warden of my own memories—held strong, even through the years of torture that now blurred into a cacophony of pain and helplessness.
Surely, I could handle two days of simply holding myself together for a wedding.
And yet, I couldn’t stop the dark thoughts that stole through my mind every time I closed my eyes or the cold sweat that clung to me as I jerked awake, still shuddering from the nightmare of memories that were all too real.
I suspected those feelings wouldn’t stay hidden for long.
No matter how deeply I buried them in the back of my mind, they would keep clawing their way out now that I was free, battering against the barriers I had erected against letting myself feel anything at all.
After so many years of repression and dissociation, I no longer knew how to live without it.
I had no intention of losing control because doing so would mean falling apart.
And I had no desire to let myself relive my worst moments or to let myself feel anything at all after the pain I had been through.
But something told me this teetering equilibrium would shatter the second those emotions found a weakness to take advantage of—a fracture to slip through, like a crack in a mirror.
I raked a hand through my hair, catching a glimpse of myself in the enormous mirror that stood against the far wall in my childhood home.
While I had filled out since my imprisonment, the sleepless nights had left me sallow, the shadows under my eyes a witness to the weight I still carried.
My naturally tan skin remained a sickly shade of pale from my reluctance to go outside.
During the long, solitary days, I had taken to reading both as an escape and to learn about everything I missed. The latest volume tucked under my arm was a book about the magic behind the creation of these mirror gateways.
It was intention and magic, just like everything else.
But I had been surprised to learn that gates could only be made by those with Celestial magics, and their creation mostly tied to royalty.
Though anyone powerful enough could close a gate, at least temporarily, creating one took a blood tie to the land itself.
The mirrors at each of the five cities had been a joint effort by some of the original monarchs of Agadot, each traveling to each other’s realms to create the pathway home.
The few others created generally had a single destination, such as the mirrors leading from the mortal realm to the forest entry of the Faewilds.
This mirror was once only linked to the castle below.
Eva had created the pathway to Morehaven.
Creating a new gate was incredibly draining, and she had taken several days to recover despite drawing on the magic of the land.
According to the book under my arm, those who were untrained often didn’t survive the effort of pouring their power into making the link.
And here I was, uncertain whether I even had the strength to walk through this one again—back to the epicenter of everything that plagued me.
Morehaven. Even in my head, the name sounded like a curse.
Aviel was dead. And my sister was waiting for me, with her soul-bonded anima and their coterie of friends—all of whom would obviously do anything for her.
Despite all that had happened to her, Eva hadn’t let it turn her into a worse version of herself.
She had not only survived Aviel’s torment, she had won.
After avoiding her carefully worded missives checking in on me, it was the least I could do to show up when it mattered.
At least Quinn would be right alongside me. Though with how easily she saw through me, I wasn’t sure that was a good thing.
I had always been drawn to her. It was a fact that hadn’t changed despite my efforts to push her away. When we were kids, she had been the person whose approval meant the most. Even now, the pain on her face when I shut her out cut deep, despite knowing she was better off without me in her life.
There was something endearingly unique about her unwavering optimism every time we crossed paths—a reoccurrence I couldn’t entirely blame on her.
Maybe it was her need to help others mixed with a backbone that refused to bow that kept her from leaving me alone like the rest of them.
Or maybe she knew that some silent part of me still needed her.
After all, she had a talent for seeing through things—a gift of discernment I had always trusted, even if it was now working against me.
If there was anyone who could break me, it was her.
As if the thought had summoned her, Quinn appeared, nearly running into me as I started forward at the same moment.
On instinct, my hand clasped behind her back, my book tumbling from my grip with a heavy thud as my other arm firmly wrapped around her waist. Her breath caught, and I realized I was holding her in a dip more suited to a ballroom than a rescue.
There was something about her amber eyes that made it feel like they were pulling me in. Like if I didn’t keep up my guard, I might fall into them and plummet headfirst.
I quickly righted her, my cheeks hot as I consciously released my hold on her. And yet I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
Her natural curls framed her heart-shaped face like a halo, the simple, burgundy dress she had changed into accentuating every curve.
An embossed leather belt with laces up the front cinched around the small of her waist, pushing up her breasts.
The off-shoulder neckline revealed enough skin to make my mouth water.
“Sorry,” Quinn said breathlessly, a matching flush rising on her cheeks.
Unable to form a response, I grunted like that band was still around my neck, though for once, its hold on me wasn’t the reason my words felt stifled. Then I walked toward the mirror without looking back.