Chapter 1
I’ve spiked a corpse to the wall of my throne room.
The putrid scent of the asphidra corpse is the first thing you notice when breaching the door of the Great Hall.
And that’s exactly how I want it. The next thing to happen after the reek of death assaults you is the wide-eyed search for the cause of such an affront.
The whites of people’s eyes when they see the perpetrator have soothed the visceral part of my rage.
Good.
Let them finally see what they willfully ignored.
My attention slides to the right side of my throne, to where Lachlan stands.
His charismatic grin is gone, replaced by a grim line.
But it’s the swollen black eye and the puckered skin of the slowly healing cut on his forehead that have my teeth grinding.
I had assumed killing the imposter and Julius would restore our magic.
And I could not have been more wrong. My attention returns to the room in front of me.
To the people that are now trickling in.
In the days following the battle, I’ve assumed control of the throne, tracked down the remaining citizens that fled into the mountains, and sent missives to the councilors to have every able person report to the Great Hall. Immediately.
And now I wait.
“Are ye gonna leave it up the entire time?” Lachlan’s voice cuts through the whispers and stares of those already gathered.
“Yes.” I hiss, drumming my fingers against the armrest of the crystal throne.
“But it—”
“Smells?” I finish for him. “I’m aware. But they’re going to look at it.”
“We’ve replaced the stones underneath it three times.” When I don’t respond, he adds a shade softer, “There’s got to be a better way.”
The gentleness in his voice nearly snuffs out the fire burning within me. To look at his face would definitely douse it, but I need it. The rage is the one thing keeping me going, and if I stop for just a moment, the weight of the last few days will undo me completely.
“It’s not burning through the stones now.
Maybe the venom has to be pumping through its veins for it to be acidic.
” I clench my teeth. “But regardless, this is the way I’m doing it.
” My voice is not my own. I hardly recognize the bite infused in each syllable.
I keep my eyes straight ahead and ignore the niggling desire to gaze his way.
To keep going.
Unfortunately, my thoughts spiral. We were tricked, and it caused the death of a woman whose greatest fear was to be alone again.
I failed her.
And now she is alone.
The room has fallen silent.
Lachlan’s shoulders tense as he turns his head to the corpse behind us once more before sighing through his mouth and facing forward again. “I think it was a her.”
My fingers freeze, ceasing their incessant drumming on the chair, and the air in my lungs seizes up.
I did that.
I killed that creature and many other creatures before her. My chest burns, and I force the air out as I work to stay calm.
1, 2, 3, 4. I count out my inhale and exhale.
Sunlight pours through the skylight in the center of the room. And I focus on the gold rune on the floor. It twinkles. My breathing steadies and with it, my thoughts. I did the right thing, did what my mother sent me back here for. But even that thought doesn’t make it any easier.
The clomping of boots pulls my eyes away from the rune and to my friends as they make their way through the doors and the gathered crowd.
Ash and soot streak their armor, and the purple smudges under their eyes add a level of anguish to their vacant stares.
If I feel betrayed, I can’t even imagine how they must feel having lived their entire lives here.
Mathilda cuts a straight line towards me, and people flee from her path.
Tane walks beside her, a wrathful shadow mirroring her every step.
His eyes still glow from the remnants of battle, while Evander looks hollowed out from the inside.
Bright copper hair is stark against pale skin that once effused vitality.
Mina’s eyes are red and swollen, the lingering result of Elowen’s death.
Mathilda clears her throat, her nose wrinkling in disgust. “The rest of the demon corpses have been burnt. And we saw the last of the boats docking on our way back. Everyone should be here soon.” My eyes soften when they meet hers.
I’m relieved she’s okay. I scan all my friends.
Covered in grime, bruises, and scrapes, but it could be worse.
It could be much, much worse. Yet here they stand, in front of me, alive and in one piece.
“We canna fit everyone from the realm in here,” Lachlan murmurs, looking around at the sizable crowd in front of us. A line snakes through the terrace door, with more people waiting to get inside.
“Rotate them in and out by district.”
He scans my face, sensing there is no room for an argument or a discussion. “As ye wish.”
Lachlan takes a few steps towards the crowd and begins calling out orders.
“If you’re from Ishtar, remain where ye are.
If ye are from any other district, make your way outside and we will call for the next district when we’re finished.
” His voice seems amplified, bouncing off the marble walls and floors of the throne room.
People file out while others stay put, varying degrees of worry and disgust on their faces.
As the citizens of Ishtar take their place, I sit up straighter on my throne. There is so much to do still, and the last thing I want to do is sit here in this room and explain everything to each district. But I have to. They need honesty, and we all need to unite.
Once the room is near bursting, I heave a sigh, readying myself for the nuisance that is public speaking. I wonder if my mother ever felt the same, or Gran?
The people wait patiently for me to begin.
A sea of colorful robes and golden bangles tinkle lightly as they shift on their feet.
The varying shades of garments and glittering jewels stand out in the bleak white throne room.
The cloying scent of perfumes, colognes, and peppery spices clashes with the putrid smell of the asphidra corpse and the smoke wafting in through the open air vents.
It’s an assault to the senses. A thick smoke blows in, and my eyes burn.
Ashur stands at the front of the crowd, a frown marring his face.
“What is the meaning of this summons?” he asks, with an authoritative tone.
My armor scrapes across the crystal as I slide my way off the seat and into a standing position.
It’s been days, and still I haven’t felt safe enough to wear anything else.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel secure enough to wear my leathers again.
I level my chin. The crown of feathers on my head digs into my scalp, and I resist the urge to remove it.
“I’m in no mood to stand here all day, so I’ll make this quick.
” I turn and point at the corpse. “This creature—an asphidra—was shifted into Odessa by Julius. After kidnapping the real Odessa, they put this monster on the throne and systematically tore our realm apart. Hordes of demons attacked the capital, further plunging us into chaos.” There are a few gasps and, if I’m not mistaken, the sound of retching, but I continue.
“Somehow they came through and we,” I motion to my court, “defeated them. Going forward, training is mandatory, as this realm was meant for. Training grounds will reopen, as will the forges and armories. Expect to see these changes implemented immediately. My endeavor to regenerate magic will continue. But that is it—for now.”
“And what gives you this authority?” Ashur asks, surveying me from head to toe.
Any other day, I would appreciate the question to demonstrate how my reign will be.
But this is not the time. And that was not the correct tone.
“The authority was granted to me as it is my birthright set forth by the covenant,” I point to my mother’s crown on my brow, “and because I’m the one who saved this realm.”
His face turns a ruddy color, but he does not rebuke my claim.
I glance down to where Lachlan stands at the foot of the stairs and give him a stiff nod.
His voice booms, “Ye may leave. Roman District!”
Ashur’s robes flap behind him as he whirls on a heel and marches from the room. I have an inkling there will be issues with his district going forward. Hopefully, it’s not anything I can’t square away with some diplomacy.
My throat burns by the end of the day, having repeated the same speech over and over.
As the last district, Pella, files out of the dim throne room, with a satisfied Cynane leading her people out, I scrub a hand down my face and slump against the back of my throne.
The crystal is cold, and it bites into my neck as I tilt my head up to the ceiling.
“What next?” Evander asks over the sound of people shuffling out.
“We need to have a funeral for Elowen.” My voice somehow remains steady, even though it feels as if my heart has clawed its way out of my chest and into my throat.
“I sent guards to retrieve her. They brought her to her room and bathed her in the embalming elixir to … keep her.”
I close my eyes, rubbing the bridge of my nose as I try to quell the surge of emotions that boil up.
“Thank you for doing that. I’m ashamed I hadn’t addressed it already.” How could I not think of that? The owner of that shop would’ve walked in and found her there. But worse, how could I have just left her there?
Evander looks down at his feet, shaking his head, before glancing back up at me.
“No. You’ve had a lot on your plate. I’m honored to do my part.” He clasps his hands together in front of him, almost in a prayer, before he bows at the waist.
“What kind of funeral rites do we do here?” My gaze sweeps between my friends.
Mathilda shifts on her feet as pain flits across her face, and Mina bites her lip before dropping her head between her shoulders. Evander avoids my eyes altogether, and Tane shrugs his shoulders. I bypass looking at Lachlan.
“She would want a sailing,” Mathilda murmurs.
“Then let’s make the arrangements,” I snap. “Does anybody know what needs to be done?”
Mina’s shoulders tense, and I realize the callousness of not just my words, but my tone. They all lost someone, too.
“I’ll see to it,” Lachlan cuts in. My eyes are full of apologies as I glance between him and Mathilda.
“It’s okay,” Mathilda whispers. “We understand.”
The sun has set, and light no longer pours through the skylight above. The pale greenish glow of the throne seeps into the darkness, lightening its grip on the room. We’ve been at this all day, and I’m weary.
I shift forward in my seat. “Let’s call it a day and reconvene in the morning.
” I should say something to them, something kind at the very least. “Thank you for your help and for supporting me and my claim to the throne.” My voice cracks with the last word, and I stand abruptly, readying to flee.
But a large hand wraps around my wrist, holding me in place.
Green eyes full of kindness and pride meet mine.
“We could nae ha’ done this without ye, our queen. Dinna think for one second ye ha’ to do any of this alone. We are all here—for ye.” Lachlan’s words settle around me in a comforting embrace, and I’m thankful for the dwindling light as my fire turns to ash and the first of many tears falls.