Chapter 36
?──── Serenya ? ────?
I slip into my chambers after the ball, shedding the glittering gown for a soft nightdress and pulling on a robe.
My feet pad quietly out of the door as I make my way to my parents' chambers to see my father. I don’t expect him to be awake, but when I push the door open to the still room, there he is, reading. He sets his book down when he sees me.
“Renya,” he says, eyes lighting up.
Something in me unravels at the sight of him.
I knew I missed him while I was away, but I didn’t realize exactly how much.
I sit on the edge of the bed next to him, and the words tumble out before I can stop them.
“I’m sorry for being gone so long. It was selfish of me to leave when I should have been here, caring for you. ”
He waves a hand, dismissing it with a small smile. “Nonsense. The other healer did just fine.” Still, I see the concern in his eyes. He asks softly, “Where were you, Serenya?”
I take a breath and tell him everything.
I tell him about Osric, about sending the shadow with Koen before the second trial, rushing off to save him, and walking through his magic to bring him back.
About waking up in Noctheron, being saved by Dimitri, and helping him with Elowen.
Every secret I’ve carried, every fear, every decision.
It feels good to finally lay it all bare.
When I finish, he sits back and studies me, expression tender. “You’ve been through a lot,” he says. “I’m glad you rekindled your friendship with Dimitri.”
I blink, confused. “But…the vampires—”
He chuckles softly, reading the question in my face.
“His father was the one who caused so much harm. There was nothing the prince could do until after you…well, after you killed Emris and Dimitri was able to take the throne. Nothing the vampires had done was Dimitri’s doing, yet he’s done much to right the wrongs. I respect him for that.”
I stare at him, startled. “You…you know I—”
He smiles sadly, nodding. “It should have been me. But I am proud of you for what you did. Yes, it may have started as vengeance, but it ended the war and saved your people. That is not something to feel guilty about.”
Tears prick my eyes. “Father…”
He pats the bed beside him. “We’ll talk about dangerous kingdoms and vampires later. For now…come lie by me and tell me about this Koen. The champion who caught your eye at the start, yes? The one you said was different?”
I crawl up beside him, resting my head against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounds me as I talk, pouring out my feelings.
My fear of being queen and letting my people down, my guilt over loving again, the fear of losing it, the advice Dimitri and Ravelle gave me, and the hope that maybe, this time, it could be safe to open my heart.
“I know it’s been hard, Renya,” he says softly. “And I know my illness only made things harder. I wasn’t able to be there, and that weighed on you. I feel terrible about that.”
“No, Father, you shouldn’t—”
He interrupts gently. “Losing a love like you had…it couldn’t have been easy.
But you’ve been stronger than you realize.
You get that strength from your mother.” His voice softens with affection.
“What happened wasn’t your fault. He wouldn’t want you to punish yourself by staying in the past. You deserve to be happy.
All Kallan ever wanted was for you to be happy .
He told me as much. It was one of the many things we agreed on. ”
My tears fall freely now, and he continues, steady and firm.
“I agree with the vampires. But…I must meet Koen first. Even if he wins the trials, I need to know he is good enough for my daughter, good enough to share the weight of the throne with you. The future king will have a hard time filling my place on the throne, after all,” he adds with a soft laugh.
We talk longer, laughter mixing with quiet conversation, before he finally drifts to sleep. I rise slowly, careful not to wake him, and make my way to the door.
I step out of the bedroom and notice my mother in the sitting room, gazing out the window.
I pause, worried she’ll be angry about my absence.
But her face softens instantly as she steps forward, pulling me into a gentle hug and kissing the top of my head.
I return the hug, letting the warmth of both my parents fill the emptiness I’ve carried these last few weeks.
“Go get some sleep, my sweet girl. But don’t think for one second you are getting out of telling me where you were,” she says, soft but firm. “Your absence did not go unnoticed by the court.”
I pull back, giving her a nod, and begin walking to the door.
“Serenya.”
I pause and glance back at her.
“I’m so glad you’re home,” she whispers.
“Me too,” I say, with a soft smile.
When I slip back into my chambers, I collapse onto the bed, exhausted from the day's events, but also relieved to be home. Tomorrow, the final trial begins, the one I must participate in, and I’ll need all my strength.
────────────? ? ? ? ?────────────
The walls seem closer than usual as I strip away the nightdress and pull on my leathers piece by piece, the familiar weight steadying me.
The leather hugs my body like old armor. It’s a reminder. I’m not just Serenya—the princess in silks and smiles—but also the warrior. I fasten my sword at my hip. My shadows curl close, sensing my nerves. They move along my arms, vanishing into the air like smoke.
By the time I step into the courtyard, my heart is pounding.
The morning air is cool, carrying the solemn weight of anticipation. A scattering of guards lines the marble steps. My mother stands at the top, the council standing behind her.
My throat clogs with emotion as I glance up, and my gaze finds my father.
He stands on his balcony that overlooks the courtyard, draped in a heavy robe, pale but proud. He hasn’t left his bed much since illness took him, but he’s out here, bracing himself against the railing, eyes sharp and watchful. For me.
The warmth of his support cuts through me like sunlight. When he sees me, his lips curve into a faint smile. He dips his chin in a small, private nod, and I stand taller, squaring my shoulders. For him, I will not falter.
The sound of footsteps draws me back to the courtyard.
The champions gather, weapons gleaming, expressions tight.
Koen is among them, standing broad-shouldered and steady, his golden eyes scanning the space.
When his eyes land on me, his brow furrows in confusion.
I force myself into line next to Asbel, expression cool.
Mother steps forward, her crown catching the morning light, and everyone goes silent.
“Champions,” she begins, “you have faced two trials—trials of strength and endurance. The third and final one will be different from the ones that came before. There will be three stages. The first is the Labyrinth of Echoes, an ancient place where stone and shadow bend to the will of the heart. Within, illusions will rise to meet you. The Labyrinth reflects not the blade, but the soul. Your fears .”
A chill runs down my spine, though I keep my chin high. The Labyrinth. I’ve heard the whispers. Alive and merciless, some say.
Her hand lifts, and light coalesces above us. Orbs shimmer into existence, glowing softly, each one settling to hover over our shoulders. They pulse with quiet radiance, both beautiful and unnerving.
“These are Orbs of Vaelith,” my mother declares. “They will follow each of you, recording every step you take within the Labyrinth. While we will not be able to see the illusions shown to you, we will see all your triumphs and your failings.”
My mother’s gaze falls to me. “This trial shall not test the champions alone. Princess Serenya, future Queen of Syltheriel, shall also enter the Labyrinth. For it is not enough that a queen be born of lineage. She must prove herself worthy to lead, in the eyes of her people and the gods.”
Koen's head snaps toward me. His golden eyes widen, stark and unguarded. Fear. Real, raw fear. For me. His jaw locks. He looks as if he might step forward and protest, but he doesn’t. He can’t. Instead, he holds my gaze, his expression carved from worry and disbelief.
My throat burns. I hadn’t told him. I couldn’t. But gods, the way he is looking at me now threatens to break me.
The pixies drift forward, small wings shimmering. They hover before us, light bending into rings that open one by one. The Labyrinth waits on the other side, vast and merciless.
Asbel and Lioran steel themselves before stepping forward.
I look only at Koen.
His stare doesn’t break, not even as the light grows around us. His jaw is still tight, but in his eyes, there’s something more than fear now. Something fierce.
My lips part, but no words come. Instead, I give him the smallest nod. He dips his chin in return, the barest movement, but enough to steady me.
I breathe once, deeply, and step through the portal.
The Labyrinth isn’t what I was expecting.
I’m standing among ruins, but not like Gravenholme’s scattered remains.
This is one massive ruin, a shattered skeleton of what must have once been a grand stronghold.
Damp stone walls rise around me, their surfaces slick with moss.
Vines curl around broken pillars, and ancient trees, their trunks wider than a man’s reach, push up through the crumbling floor.
Above, branches twist together into a tangled canopy, fractured only in places where sunlight spears through in narrow beams.
I scan the space. It’s enclosed on all sides, save for a single narrow staircase rising ahead.
With no choice but forward, I draw a steadying breath and start up the cracked steps. The Orb of Vaelith drifts near my shoulder, glowing faintly like a lantern in the dark. My footsteps echo against the stone, every sound magnified in the heavy silence.
At the top, I hear it.
His voice. Calling my name.