Elyria must have noticed the change in Cedric’s mood, because she was quick to add, “Only joking, Your Broodiness.”
He nodded absently.
She frowned. “What will you do with the crown once we’ve claimed it?”
Cedric recognized the blatant attempt to change the subject, yet the question still caught him so off guard, he stumbled over his own feet. “What willIdo with it?”
“I mean, I certainly don’t want it. All I want is for all this to be over so I can get Kit to the first healer I fly across.” She paused, as if weighing whether to say the next part aloud. “And I cannot deny that this ‘imbalance’ between our peoples would surely only grow more vast were I to present the crown to King Lachlandris. He may be a fair enough ruler, but he is still a royal. With celestial power in his hands, I cannot imagine he would do anything but make the situation in Havensreach worse.”
Cedric stared at her, the light in his chest thudding in parallel with his heart. “A few days stuck in the Crucible with me, and I’ve turned you into a human sympathizer, have I?”
She chuckled darkly. “I could say the same about you, could I not? Don’t think I missed the murderous glint in your eye when first we met in Castle Lumin, Sir Knight.”
Her tone was teasing, but the reminder of the visceral rage he’d felt upon learning of her identity as the Revenant had shame swelling in him. He wished he understood more about why he’d thought—why he’d been led to believe—for so long that she was the one responsible for the blood and fire of his past.
Cedric took a steadying breath. “Knowing what we know now, I’m not sure anyone should wield power such as this.”
“Not even your lord? Your king?”
Traitor. Betrayer.
He swallowed. If she was being honest, he could be too. “Perhaps especially not them. Just look at what power like that does to a man—what even the desire for power like that does. I am sure Varyth Malchior painted many beautiful lies for Evander in order to sway him to his plan.”
The mention of Evander’s name had Elyria tensing, but it was a less severe reaction than Cedric expected. As if the long walk down this simple hall had helped heal some of the hurt already.
“I dread to think of what would happen should the crown fall into Malchior’s hands,” Cedric added.
Elyria bit her lip. “What of the Chasms?”
“I—I don’t know. Without access to the Midlands, the situation in Havensreach will surely grow more dire. There are too many of us for the land we possess. There is too little mana. But the risk...If only there was a way to use the crown to restore the land whilst also ensuring it never falls into the wrong hands.”
Elyria looked at him thoughtfully, her lips scrunching to one side like an off-kilter kiss, and his insides warmed. “What if there was a way to do just that?”
“Is there?”
“When we merged power outside the labyrinth, there was a moment there when I thought I could have accomplishedanything.”
Something stirred in Cedric’s core at the reminder of how Elyria had looked in that moment—the sheer waves of power rolling off her, the way she’d unwoven the trial’s thorny barrier with the twitch of her fingers. Her otherworldly glow, her light pulsing in his own chest like she was made of starfyre.
He cleared his throat, the back of his neck growing hot. “I recall.”
Blessedly, she didn’t appear to notice his reaction. “Now, imagine that magic expanded tenfold—a hundredfold. With the crown, bolstered with that kind of power...I think I could fill the Chasms and bridge the realms.” She sucked in a breath. “After which, we would get rid of it—hide it, bury it, destroy it. Anything. Everything.”
“So that nobody ever has the opportunity to abuse its power again.”Awe and respect and something else wove through Cedric’s words.
“Yes. Is that crazy?”
“No,” he said, eyes wide. “I don’t find that crazy at all. After all, it was with the crown that Queen Daephinia was able to sunder the land in the first place, was it not?”
Elyria grew quiet for several long moments. So long, that Cedric felt that thread of light in his chest pulling him toward her, pushing him to reach for her. To ensure she was all right, that she was safe, that she was real. But he knew if he did, if he touched her again now, the fragile control he was holding onto would snap.
By the stars, how he wanted it to snap.
“Would you trust me to do it?” she asked. Her voice was quiet, unsure. Like she was afraid of his answer. It squeezed at his heart, and for a second, he was back in the second trial, in that dark place Elyria had found him.
“How do I know you are real?”
“I don’t know. SometimesIdon’t even know if I’m real. But even if I had an answer, I somehow doubt there’s anything I could say that would convince you. You just have to trust.”
