Chapter Fifty-Six – Mira
Chapter Fifty-Six
Mira
One week later
It was surreal being back on Aldara. Even more surreal carrying Aric with me – his ashes contained in an urn that hadn’t left my possession.
I could see islanders lining the cliffs: fishermen and nobles alike. Somewhere amongst them, Governor Atwood and his son would be watching. I intended to deal with them personally.
‘You look particularly regal today,’ I said with a sideways glance at Scarlett. She was resplendent in a gown of red and gold, Emperor Kalias’s bone crown glinting on top of her coiled hair. An empress in the making.
‘I thought it best. If I’m going to start issuing orders, I might as well look the part.’
‘Thank you for this,’ I murmured. ‘It means a lot to me, and I know it would have meant the world to him.’
I couldn’t bring myself to say Aric’s name, but Scarlett nodded. She glanced at the urn in my arms, and I realised I was hugging it protectively to my chest.
‘It’s a new concept for me, allowing a country – or an island – to have more control,’ she said with an ironic quirk of her lips. ‘I have no doubt my father would have disapproved. But that’s the point, I suppose – doing things differently. Trying to be better than my parents.’
‘You shouldn’t have to try too hard,’ Cassius drawled from behind me. ‘They set the bar extremely low.’
I narrowed my eyes at Cassius’s less than tactful comment. He gazed innocently back at me, but his eyes flicked cautiously to Scarlett – who laughed. A soft, genuine laugh that surprised us both.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘They certainly did.’
We stood shoulder to shoulder as the boat approached the harbour – Scarlett on my right and Cassius on my left. In my wildest imaginings, I had never dreamt that I would return with two members of the Ravalian family by my side.
Lillian’s footfalls rang out as she emerged from the cabin. Scarlett shifted slightly, allowing Lillian to join me as the boat docked, our hands intertwining. Ravalian Warriors leapt off to tighten the ropes tethering us in place, and all too soon we were disembarking.
A glimpse of white drew my gaze to the cliffs, where Lillian’s mother was hurtling down the path to the docks. Eliana opened her arms wide and Lillian flew into them, tears streaming down her face.
My heart clenched at the sight and I tightened my grip on the gold urn.
‘Let’s give them a moment,’ I said, my gaze shifting towards two unwelcome figures.
Nikolas Atwood relied heavily on a cane as he approached, his face filled with loathing as he watched me. He was exactly as I remembered him – his clothing immaculate, his ash-blond hair and grey eyes striking.
At his side was Stacia, a pretty noblewoman who had always fawned over Nikolas. A large diamond ring glittered on her dainty finger, but there was nothing dainty about the scowl twisting her face.
‘Your Majesty,’ Nikolas said, inclining his head to Scarlett, who didn’t react in the slightest.
Cassius moved to stand next to me, watching Nikolas with a thin smile. Nikolas’s gaze narrowed at the sight of him, no doubt recalling how Cassius had taken my side over his in the Ravalian Court.
‘Nikolas,’ Cassius said pleasantly, when no one else seemed inclined to speak. ‘I was expecting your father.’
‘He’s dead,’ Nikolas said shortly. ‘I’m Lord Atwood now.’
‘Ah,’ Cassius said, his tone utterly uncaring. ‘My deepest condolences – or congratulations, depending on how you want to look at it.’
I resisted the urge to elbow Cassius in the stomach.
He was having a little too much fun needling Nikolas, and despite the fact that Nikolas had once tried to kill me, I no longer harboured animosity towards him.
Perhaps I really had changed from the person I used to be.
Or perhaps Nikolas seemed tame in comparison to Roran.
‘I’m afraid I have some bad news,’ I continued. ‘You can keep your title, but as for being the Aldarian Governor–’
‘You can’t replace me,’ Nikolas interrupted coldly. ‘You don’t have the power to make those decisions.’
‘No,’ Scarlett said, her voice smooth, ‘but I do. And I’ve decided to abolish the Provincial Governors.’
Nikolas blinked at Scarlett. I wondered if she had rendered him speechless.
‘That means there will be no Governor of Aldara, at least not until the Aldarians decide to appoint one themselves. You can put yourself forward for the position, of course, but . . .’ She trailed off, her silence pointed. We all knew that Nikolas wouldn’t be a popular choice.
His cheeks reddened with rage. ‘And my assets? My father’s manor house? What will happen to those?’
‘I have no intention of stripping you of your inheritance. Everything that belonged to your father will remain yours – except the manor house. That belongs to the Governor of Aldara, or whoever ends up being in charge. It was never intended to be passed down through families.’
‘Emperor Kalias promised–’
‘Emperor Kalias is dead.’ Scarlett took a step towards Nikolas. She was a few centimetres shorter than he was, but somehow still towered over him. ‘I am in charge now, and those are my terms. My Warriors will help you remove your things from the manor and relocate elsewhere.’
Nikolas’s eyes darted past Scarlett – to the black-garbed Warriors backing up her order. He stiffly nodded.
Though Scarlett’s expression didn’t change, I had the sense that she was enjoying herself.
She brushed past Nikolas and followed the winding path towards the cliffs, Cassius and I at her side. I heard Lillian murmuring softly to Eliana as they followed, and I knew she was gently breaking the news of Aric’s death.
As we walked through the streets, we were greeted by curious and awed stares.
When the islanders saw that Lillian and Eliana were with us, the mood lightened into something less formal.
People came up to welcome us, and I was surprised to realise they were as eager to speak to me as they were to Scarlett.
It was strange being the centre of attention when I had once felt so inconsequential here.
So certain that my life would never amount to anything unless I did something drastic to change it.
‘Smile, Mira,’ Cassius instructed from beside me. ‘Relax your shoulders. You want to look like you’re amongst friends.’
‘It’s just . . . hard, being back here,’ I whispered. ‘Without him.’
Was it my imagination, or were people staring at the urn in my hands? Did they understand what it was – what it meant ?
‘No one blames you for Aric’s death,’ Cassius said, equally quietly – though he kept a smile on his lips for our audience. He was good at this – a natural, his warmth impressively genuine and not overdone.
Maybe he was right – maybe the islanders didn’t blame me for Aric’s death. But maybe they should.
Lord Atwood’s manor looked the same as I remembered, a realisation that only increased the ache in my chest. I remembered dancing in these grounds with Aric, lights twinkling around us as we celebrated the eve of the Choosing Ceremony. It felt like another lifetime.
‘Come on, Mira,’ Lillian said, gently taking hold of my arm.
The white-washed buildings faded from view as I followed Lillian and Eliana past the manor house, leaving Scarlett and Cassius to deal with Nikolas Atwood.
We reached the open field where the circus had pitched its tents, and I was saddened – but not surprised – to find the field empty.
It made sense they would have moved on after all the destruction Zandri had caused.
But I felt closer to my mother here. There was more of her on Aldara than there ever had been in Ravalia or Kalure.
I could almost hear her sweet laugh on the breeze, and smell the scent of her perfume: sweet and mysterious but with an edge.
When I reopened my eyes, my surroundings were blurry with tears.
And then we reached the meadow where Aric and I used to spar.
‘Are you sure it’s alright to scatter his ashes here?’ I asked. ‘If you have a special place–’
‘Here is perfect,’ Eliana said, her voice thick with emotion.
Her hair – the same light shade as Lillian’s – was shot through with grey, and only now, in the midst of her grief, did I realise how much she had aged since I last saw her.
‘Aric used to look forward to those moments of escape with you. Sometimes I think this meadow is the only place where he felt truly at peace.’
I might have thought Eliana was saying that to be kind, but I believed it too. There had been something so open and unguarded about Aric here, and he hadn’t been that way in the presence of the townspeople.
Handing the urn to Lillian, I crossed the meadow, giving Lillian and her mother the chance to share private remembrances. Tears dripped down my face as I paused on the bank of the mountain stream where Aric had tossed me in.
All around me were memories.
There – there was where he had helped me to my feet, and I had looked up into his eyes, hoping he was about to kiss me.
That patch of grass was where we had lain down together, staring up at the sky, talking about our plans to compete in the Trials and become Warriors.
To protect those who needed it and make a real difference.
We had done that. We had become everything we had wanted to be – and more. So much more.
The ashes scattered on the wind. Lillian and Eliana left the last of them for me, withdrawing with a soft smile from Lillian and a kiss on the cheek from Eliana. Small signs of affection that meant the world to me, because they showed that Lillian and Eliana still thought of me as family.
I knelt in that meadow until the sky darkened, gripping onto the urn for dear life.
I knew that I needed to release my hold on it – to release my hold on him . But I couldn’t.
Hours passed. The meadow grew even darker, illuminated only by the faint moonlight overhead – and the distant glow of candles in the windows of houses. And then I heard it. The sound of booted footsteps.
Cassius’s arm brushed mine as he knelt at my side. Letting me know that he was there if I needed him.
‘I can’t do it,’ I whispered, my voice too loud in the silence. ‘I can’t , Cassius.’
Cassius didn’t press me. He just waited, knowing that I needed to continue.
‘He shouldn’t have died like that.’ The words came out as a sob. ‘He was a warrior – a better warrior than any of us. It isn’t fair that he was the one to die. It isn’t right .’
And then–
‘It should have been me.’
There it was. The guilt and self-loathing that I had been carrying ever since I had watched Aric bleed out in front of me. It was a relief to finally give voice to it.
Cassius didn’t say anything immediately. When he did, it wasn’t what I expected. ‘I’m sure Aric felt the same about his brother. And I’m sure you would have tried to convince him that there was nothing he could have done.’
I looked up at Cassius. ‘Did you ever meet Kain?’
‘No,’ Cassius said softly. ‘I wasn’t involved in that particular campaign.
My father knew better than to station me under Roran’s command; he liked the idea of having a spare heir too much to send me to be murdered.
But I witnessed my fair share of bloodshed, and I can tell you that the best death a Warrior can hope for is to die in the place of someone they love.
To know – in their final moments – that they have given their life so that person can live. ’
Silence descended between us. My hands were ice-cold wrapped around the urn, but I didn’t move or speak.
‘You gave Aric that, Mira.’ Cassius paused, letting his words sink in. ‘You gave him the end he deserved. The end he would have wanted.’
Tears were flowing down my cheeks now, but I didn’t swipe them away. Cassius helped me to my feet, his arms warm and steadying as they enclosed around me.
‘Don’t diminish Aric’s sacrifice,’ he murmured in my ear. ‘Honour it – honour him – by living.’
My hands tightened around the urn one last time – and then I released the contents onto the breeze.
I felt lighter when it was done.
Lighter in the knowledge that Aric had died as he had lived – as a true warrior. In every sense of the word.
And that he had been laid to rest here, on the island he loved. His island home.