“I wish…” he began, then swallowed visibly. “Take care, Baradaz,” he continued, whatever else he had intended to say lost forever.
“You as well,” I replied. The image of his tall, unyielding form standing alone in the doorway lingered with me as I walked away.
Tanez was far more vocal about her opinion. She cursed Noctis, Aramaz, and my stubbornness, pleading with me to reconsider. But when she finally conceded defeat, she took over organizing my supplies with admirable efficiency.
It was no surprise that Namtaz gifted me alyr-stone blessed with her healing magic, but Zamani’s gift of a Fire stone left me astonished.
“I thought you hated me,” I said when she visited me in the modest guest room I had moved into, her elaborate golden dress feeling oddly out of place.
She scoffed, her violet eyes fierce. “I am not my husband, simple in my emotions. I can love you, my friend, and still be angry at you for all that you have done.” The Fire stone gleamed a deep red as she placed it on the table, her gaze unwavering. Two swift steps and her arms enveloped me in a harsh embrace. “Wherever you go,” she murmured, “I hope you find peace.” Then she was gone, leaving only a faint scent of amber and jasmine behind.
Enlial was the last to visit, on the eve of my departure, in the form of a bright-eyed Elvish youth. I had told no one where I was going, but I suspected they knew from the scrying bowl they brought, along with an Air stone; the bowl was adorned with depictions of gentle pastures and rolling hills. Once, I would have smiled at the subtle hint of knowledge. Now, it made me bristle.
“So, how many visions have you seen of me destroying the world?” I spat, my voice trembling with anger. “How much have you kept from me over the ages?”
Their eyes dropped to the ground, confirming my worst fears. Had all those dramatic revelations they had shown me ever been more than another move in my husband’s attempts to control me?
There was only one thing of which I was certain: I could trust no one but myself.
“I can only recount what I see, my queen,” Enlial tried to defend themself, their voice wavering. “I do not influence the decisions others make, nor do I take a side.”
A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “You chose a side when you kept your silence, no doubt at the king’s order. And it certainly wasn’t mine.”
They sighed, not denying it. “The king bade me weave a spell to honor your wish to remain undisturbed in your exile. No one will remember your face from this day on or suspect that this mortal form once belonged to the Star Queen.” Their flawless, youthful face turned worried. “I must warn you, though—the magic might not hold if someone has genuine memories of speaking with you. I know you probably do not want to hear, but I saw—”
“No!” I interrupted them forcefully, unwilling to darken my first steps into freedom. “I have had enough of your prophecies haunting my every move. Perhaps I am doomed. Perhaps I am not. But I refuse to be afraid of my future any longer.”
I slammed the door in their face without waiting for a reply.
The next morning, my travel companion awaited me at the edge of the city, her face concealed by her cloak’s hood just as mine was. We rode in silence through the rolling green hills surrounding Lyrheim, the rising sun warming our backs.
When a delighted babble drifted over, I halted my horse with a laugh. “I think someone is awake.”
Briseis Lyrasen pulled down the cloth, revealing her son securely tied to her chest, his soft golden locks gleaming in the sunlight. “Perhaps he feels this is a new beginning.”
I did not respond, glancing back over the vast Elariel Lake to the City of Light, Yggdrasil’s ruin a dark reminder of all that I had lost.
“This is not the end,” Briseis said, following my gaze. “Even if it might feel like it.”
I gave her a skeptical look. “Are you a seer now, Briseis Lyrasen?”
“No,” she replied, her gaze unwavering. “But I know your heart and mine, my queen. Fate won’t break us. We will not allow it.”
I looked at her for a long moment. Then I smiled, spurring my horse forward, leaving Lyrheim behind. “Just Rada now, my friend. I am no one’s queen any longer. Only my own mistress.”
CHAPTER
55
Rada
The moon cast the handsome angles of Noctis’s face into an enticing tapestry of darkness and light. I watched him for hours after he fell asleep, a small, vulnerable part of me still unable to believe he was here with me. That I could feel him, kiss him, love him.
My fingers hovered just above his temple, tracing the outline of his high cheekbones and those full, tempting lips, never quite touching. I knew the night’s shadows weren’t the only ones hiding secrets. We both were.
Did he truly not remember what happened the night Yggdrasil fell? Or was he trying to use my fragmented memories to his advantage?
I wished I could trust him without reservation. But I had been betrayed too often, manipulated ruthlessly by those closest to me. I had to tread carefully and uncover the truth behind the Tree’s destruction. Aramaz had not told me everything—I was certain of it. My years of exile had revealed one undeniable truth: my husband was a master of deceit, his games spanning millennia. And by leaving the playing field to him, I might have made a grave mistake.
