Page 133 of Song of the Forgotten

“Of course,” she answered. “You’ve spent so many nights without me, I’m sure there’s no need for a governess to be close anymore. Or, I suppose, a governess at all.” She offered me a weak smile.

I gathered her into a hug.

“There is always a need for a friend,” I whispered into her ear.

She squeezed back.

“And you’ll always have one in me.” She pulled away, stroking a caring thumb over my cheek. “I’ll be in the servants’ quarters if you need me.” She curtsied. “Good evening,PrincessElowyn.”

A fire kept the last bit of winter chill away in my bedchamber. Closing the door, a strange feeling washed over me. Somehow, as I slept, the world had gone from tipping seaward to righting itself. But what did it mean? And why did it feel wrong?

Then I spotted an ornate papier-mâché box waiting on my bed. Was it a gift from my father? Carefully, I removed the delicate lid and reached within to find a small red silk bag and a piece of paper. Un-cinching the bag, I pulled out a crown, its white-gold metal catching the warm glow from the hearth.

At its heart was an impressive blue sapphire.

That crown, it belonged to him.Hylos’s words flew to me, and the battle slammed in unbearable swells of blood and carnage into my mind. Siren songs wailing as they sank dead into the sea. Into the body of their mother. Back to Nymphaea. Then, my ears rang with that awful, horrendous sound that turned my world to black. I threw the crown on the bed, ridding myself of the memories and the power it radiated.

With trembling hands, I reached for the note nestled at the bottom of the box, heart pounding in my chest.

I unfolded the parchment.

My eyes widened in disbelief at the single sentence, which I read again and again.

Long live the queen.