Chapter 52
Fifty-Two
Elora
My eyes cross as I sign yet another piece of parchment. It’s been two weeks since we fought for our lives in the courtyard of Valebridge. Two weeks since Roman died. Two weeks since Mother Gaia has been freed, and in those two weeks, the paperwork hasn’t stopped for a moment. The Stones have been placed in a secret trove that only myself and Sorin knows about. There’s some relief in that, I suppose.
But between coronation preparation and rebuilding what’s been damaged, there is always something to do.
Growling, I toss my quill down and rub my eyes. “Who knew becoming a queen meant filling out so much bloody paperwork.”
Sam laughs, flipping through the pages of a book much too quickly to actually be reading. “Your mother says you were a terrible student.” She clamps her mouth shut and my stomach clenches. She glances at me, then just over my shoulder.
“Is she…” I follow her gaze, looking over my shoulder. Nothing but a bookcase greets me back. “Is she here right now?”
“Yes,” Sam says, drawing out the word. She sets the book down and places her hands in her lap.
“And does she still have that message for me?”
Sam nods, her dark curls bouncing. “Yes.” She leans forward in her chair. “But only if you’re ready, of course.” She bites her bottom lip, eyes drifting again over my shoulder.
Several weeks ago, I couldn’t imagine hearing a message from my mother. Couldn’t imagine the wounds it would re-open or the pain it would bring. But after everything we’ve gone through, after the realization of mine and Sorin’s connection, I’ve never felt more ready to face something. Have never felt stronger or more alive.
No more running.
“I’m ready.” I take a deep breath, my body keenly aware of the cold spot over my shoulder. My stomach somersaults, fear snaking its way around my heart, but this time, I push back. Not letting it control like I so often have.
“Okay.” Sam exhales through her nose, shaking her hands slightly before flicking her wrists up. “She wants you to know that she loves you.”
I smile. “Of course. I know that.”
“She also wants you to know…” She sets her hands down, cutting the connection.
“Sam?”
“Sorry.” Sam attempts and fails to laugh. A tear wells in her eye but she blinks it away. “She wants you to know that you were never alone out there. Not for a single moment.”
My mind flashes to the nights in the woods just after she died. The shivering cold and terrible noises that come from the forest after dark.
“She was with you, every step of the way.”
Tears sting my eyes, the cold in the corner drifting closer.
Sam’s hands raise again. “She also wants you to know…” She cocks her head to the side, confusion pinching her brows. “She wants you to know that whenever you need her, whenever you miss her, just listen to the wind.” She shrugs, placing her hands in her lap again. “Whatever that means.”
But I know exactly what it means. My chest cracks and the dam that’s been holding my emotions breaks with it.
The wind has whispered to me before, in the darkest moments of solitude when my blade was heavy and my mind was weak.
Not yet, little susi , it said to me. And I listened to it, in the darkness of my cabin. I let its whispering tendrils wrap around me like a hug. I let it be the thing that saved me from myself even when I did not know it.
“Thank you, Sam.”
“Knock, knock.” Calix pops the door open. “I came to say goodbye.”
I wave him in and Evren and Tallulah come in behind him.
Standing from my desk, I quickly smooth my tunic and comb my wild hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t expecting?—”
“Don’t,” Tallulah says, “you’re lovely. And besides, you’re the queen now, you can do whatever you want.” She smiles and then there’s another knock at the door.
Jarek and Sorin, the last to enter. Sorin’s wearing his usual black attire, our country's new crest pinned to his left lapel.
A wolf surrounded by four stones.
The five of them settle around the settee near the fire, leaving Calix and I to speak. “I?—”
“Will you?—”
We both laugh when we speak over each other and that’s when I really study him. I let myself see all the parts of him I pushed away before. The slight bend to his nose, the golden flecks of his hair. The way he enters most rooms with a crease between his brow but quickly softens depending on who’s there. So many parts of myself live in him and vice-versa.
“The Onyx Guild is a quick few days away,” he says, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Will you visit? I mean of course, after you’ve settled here.” He runs his hands through his hair. “What am I saying, you’re the queen. How silly of me to request?—”
I place my hand on his arm and his breath hitches. “I would love to visit.”
His smile brightens his entire face, and when he goes to hug me, I let him. And it doesn’t feel forced or foreign. It feels like a hug of trust and a bit of sorrow, lined with a future full of dinners and laughter and memories if he’s willing to share them.
“I don’t have much authority to say this,” he whispers, still grasping me tight, “but I’m so proud of you and there’s no doubt your mother would be too. Getting to know you will be my greatest honor.”
My throat burns as I swallow and when he finally lets me go, I wish he wouldn’t.
Sorin joins us, his hand finding the small of my back.
“Your Majesty.” Calix dips his head, then winks before slipping out the door, leaving a smile plastered across my face.
“When do you leave?” Sam asks, hugging Tallulah and then a reluctant Evren.
“In a few days,” Tallulah says. “I want to ensure anyone who was injured has their plan in place for care.” Evren grabs her hand and she swings into his side.
We lost so many during the fight, a truth I haven’t had the time to face.
Evren turns to me. “I wanted to thank you?—”
“You don’t have to.” I hold my hands in the air.
Evren studies me for a moment, chewing his bottom lip. “But we do. We owe you so much.” He dips his head, then so does Tallulah and I feel as though I may faint. Tallulah offers me a quick hug, and when I get to Evren, he takes my hand in his, bending to place a kiss on the back of it. “Long live the queen.”
With Evren and Tallulah gone to find Thaddeus, it’s just Sam, Jarek, Sorin, and I in the room. We take a seat by the fire, going over again and again all the things we must do in the days to come.
But as the chatter brews next to me, I glance to the window and catch sight of the most marvelous thing I’ve ever seen and the voice around me fade.
A single crow sits perched outside my window, silver eyes looking in.
The room is suffocating as I sit atop a tufted, patterned throne. Gold filigree lines the arms and back. I trace the seam, finding comfort in the consistent pattern that runs along the edge of the throne.
My hair is braided around my head, adorned with a crown of thorns and flowers. The gown that was chosen for me is made of deep, green silk and it does nothing to help the hotness I feel creeping over my skin.
I run my fingers down the buttery fabric, and despite how uncomfortable it is, I can’t deny its beauty. After Sorin and I were sworn in, one of the first demands after freeing Enchantresses and rectifying the use of magick was changing the colors. So, instead of the navy that’s haunted my dreams, Sorin and I wear matching green.
Like the forest.
The guard shoves the hunter forward again, and as Sorin and I rise, everyone in the room takes a knee.
Except for him.
I hold my chin high as the hunter’s dark eyes meet mine. Sorin, who has been at my side, steps forward. His suit fits snug across his broad shoulders and chest and atop his head a small crown of golden thorns.
“You will bow before your queen until she says otherwise.” Sorin’s tone sends a shiver down my spine.
My staggered breathing is all I can hear as the rest of the room falls silent. Keeping my eyes on the hunter, he drops down to his knees. Sorin opens his mouth again, but I place a hand on his forearm, and he snaps his mouth shut.
As I step forward, the wolves join me. “State your name, hunter.”
Sorin’s hand flexes in my peripherals. The hunter remains silent at first, his face contorting into disgust.
“Your queen asked you a question.” Sorin takes another step forward, the guards at the bottom of the dais stiffening.
“She is not my queen,” he says. “Just as you are not my king?—”
The guard behind the hunter tightens his grip, yanking his hair back and whispering things I cannot hear.
I clench my jaw, fingers clamped tightly together as I make my way off the dias until I’m only a few feet from the prisoner. “You were a sworn hunter to King Roman, is that correct?”
The man grunts, his eyes narrowed.
“Do you deny the crimes you committed, hunter?”
“No.” He shakes his head as the guard grips the back of his neck, whispering something in his ear again. “No, Your Majesty .”
The wolves at my sides lower their heads, but as I run a finger down the Ruse’s back, they settle. “The punishment for your crimes is death. Are you aware of this?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
My throat tightens, but I force myself to keep my chin held high.
He deserves this, susi.
A few beats of silence pulse through the throne room.
“However,” I say. “Lady Mordona of the Bloodstone Guild has happily agreed to take one more prisoner to aid in the mining of the Montrok Caves.”
The room murmurs, faint whispers echoing against the stone walls. The last of the guards and hunters around Teravie have all been tried and either killed or sent to the caves of the Bloodstone Guild for mining, as Sorin suggested for repayment for her help.
The Montrock Caves are the farthest point South in Teravie. I’m not sure the sentence is much of a kindness considering how cruel Lady Mordona is known to be. Not to mention the legends of the magickal beings that reside in the caves. Known to keep to the dark, hoarding the precious gems for themselves.
“I’ll ask you again to state your name,” I say, bending down so only he can hear me.
“Frederick Bellthorn,” he says with a thick swallow.
“Frederick Bellthorn,” I repeat. “You have hurt countless Enchantress, have aided in one of the most brutal slaughters our country has ever seen. Have devastated an entire nation.”
He has the audacity to smile, and my magick pushes against my skin at the sight.
“I regret none of it, Your Majesty,” he snarls. “You and that bastard will see. When the Enchantresses overtake you, you’ll see how wrong you were to give them their freedom back.”
My magick snakes through my palms, settling around the oxygen flowing through his lungs. “Speak ill of my husband again,” I say, pressing my magick tighter and tighter, “and it will be the last thing you do.”
His eyes bulge, the lack of air turning his face blue.
I drop my hands and take a step backward. “Lady Mordona is waiting for you,” I say over my shoulder before glancing at my guards. “Take him away.”