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It was still cold, but not so cold as it once was.
“Winter is ending,” Erida said to the open air. It tasted of rain and mud, and growing things beneath.Spring.
His eyes met her own, the scarlet sparking beneath the black.
Erida felt the same in her own eyes, the twisted roots of the same infernal tree.
“I will wait no longer,” she breathed. What Waits coiled, wrapping around her wrists, her ankles, her throat. “Let the rest of the armies follow. We march today.”
Taristan’s hand met her fevered cheek, his skin burning as she burned. His thumb ran the length of her cheekbone, tracing the lines of her face.
His kiss burned too.
“And I will follow,” he muttered against her. “Anywhere you go.”
Her heart hammered. “Once, we promised each other the world entire.”
His eyes bored into her own. Once she feared the black abyss of his gaze. Now it was a familiar comfort. But something stirred, his focus wavering.
“Yes, we did,” Taristan finally answered, his voice thick.
He did not blink, holding her stare, and she let his words echo in her head, turning each letter over. As before, Erida felt him waiting, letting her take the first step so he might follow.
“The world entire,” she said again.
“The world entire,” he echoed.
This time, it sounded like a surrender, like an ending.
She devoured it whole.
33
The Dream Waking
Corayne
“I am Isadere, the Heir to Ibal.”
Their voice echoed up to the vaulted ceiling of the throne room, singing off the marble. Though Isadere was mortal, they seemed to suit the proud halls of the Elder castle. As sunlight filled the windows, so did it gleam off Isadere’s armor, gilded and jeweled, their long black hair a smooth curtain over one shoulder. The Heir’s illegitimate brother, Sibrez, held their left while Commander lin-Lira stood the right. All three made for an imposing sight, grand as the kingdom they hailed from.
Corayne could not help but feel excited, fidgeting a little in her seat. She adjusted her grip on the hilt of the Spindleblade, holding it as she would a staff, one hand on the hilt. Andry and Charlie sat on either side of her, both watching Isadere with wide eyes.
They were not the only ones.
Chairs lined both sides of Isibel’s raised dais, so that the lady of Iona could receive her guests properly. Valnir and Dyrian sat to her right and left. Lady Eyda stood behind her son, his bear alongside her, half-asleep.
“You are welcome here, Isadere,” Isibel replied, though she sounded anything but welcoming.
On the floor, Isadere gave a bow of their head and a sweep of an arm. It was half a curtsy, more fluid, their spine never bending.
“The legends of your people speak of your bravery, your strength, but not your kindness,” Isadere answered with their shark smile.
Corayne winced into her hand. Eager as she was to see the Heir match wits with the Elder monarch, Corayne hoped they might do so without the world hanging in the balance. Next to her, Charlie tsked under his breath. He held little fondness for Isadere, but even less for Isibel.
Together with Commander lin-Lira and Sibrez, Isadere stepped back from the center of the hall. The three knights of Kasa quickly replaced them, each one kneeling with a clank of white armor. They leaned on their spears, the steel tips glinting at the ceiling.
Isibel eyed them coolly.
