I climb from the bed, still naked, and step into the steaming bath waiting for me that Korithax had ran before leaving. I sink down slowly, the water enveloping me like a warm hug asI close my eyes, letting out a long sigh. I lower myself slowly, letting my head sink under the water, submerging myself fully in an attempt to escape reality. I lie there, thoughts swimming through my head until my lungs burned and I burst my head through the water with a gasp for air.
“Good morning, Daisy.”
I let out a small shriek, pushing the water from my eyes to see who the hell had entered the bathroom. My vision clears, and I see violet eyes so pale they almost look lavender staring at me with amusement.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you,” Lyvia says with a giggle.
“Lyvia!” I gasp, a smile spreading across my face. “I’ve missed you.”
She smiles softly, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she brushes a strand of lavender hair away from her face.
“I missed you too. How was your journey?”
I quirk a brow at her. “I have a few bones to pick with you regarding some clothing, actually.”
Lyvia slaps a hand over her mouth to hide her smile, a giggle escaping her, and I find myself giggling along with her.
“Was the nightwear really necessary?” I ask through a soft laugh.
“Aran said you both needed a little… push in the right direction,” she replies, her blush deepening.
“Of course he did,” I respond, rolling my eyes. “It’s okay. I forgive you. Only because it worked.” I look at her and wink, a blush creeping across my own cheeks, and we both fall into a fit of laughter.
“Would you like help getting ready this morning, Daisy?” Lyvia asks after we both calm down.
“I’d like that, thank you. I’ll be right out.”
She nods once before leaving, and I finish up my bath, washing my hair and body before stepping out and wrappingmyself in a fluffy towel. When I re-enter the room, there’s a gown on the velvet bench at the foot of the bed. It’s stunning—midnight black silk threaded with silver. She helps me slide it on, the fabric clinging to my body like shadow and smoke. The sleeves hang off my shoulders, and a delicate pattern of flame embroidery licks across the hem. She helps me style my hair in soft waves down my back, and when I glance at my reflection when we’re finished, I almost don’t recognise the woman staring back. There’s a strength in my eyes that I haven’t seen in a long time.
We talk a little more, the desperation to tell her about everything on the tip of my tongue. But I can’t yet. Not when there is still such a big threat looming over my head, and the pressure to become queen is still sitting on my shoulders. I pull her into a tight hug, and she returns it, wrapping her arms around me.
“I hope you understand that you’re more than just my maid, Lyvia.” I smile softly, holding her at arm’s length.
“It’s an honour to be your maid, and your friend, Daisy.”
She leaves the room, and I find myself needing air and something to keep me busy.
My bare feet carry me through the corridors without thought, as if my body remembers a path my mind has long forgotten. And when I finally pause, I realise where I’ve come.
I press my hand to the door, pushing it open slightly and steel myself before stepping inside the large throne room. It’s quiet. Still. Dust motes dance in the golden light cutting through the stained glass. And there, at the far end, is the obsidian throne. It’s large, jagged, and so obnoxious it hurts to look at. I step toward it, each footfall echoing like a heartbeat.
A tremor races through me as I approach, my breath catching in my lungs as I take in the seat that had replaced the one I… Dasmyrin used to sit on. I run my fingers over the cold, solidarms of the chair, and my lungs falter as sudden images flash behind my eyes; violent and overwhelming.
I see myself—Dasmyrin—dragged from this very room, blood soaking the floor, her powers stripped from her as she screams to the high heavens. She’s dragged by the Divine Six into the pit. They’ve burned her crown, her throne, and shattered her legacy.
I stumble forward, reaching out to steady myself, and my fingers grasp onto the curved edge of the throne. More visions. A memory. No… a reliving.
She’s seated, proud and regal, a crown of flame settling on her head as the court roars in loyalty. Her eyes are black as coal, her hair gleams silver, her expression is made of justice and power.
I jolt back to myself, gasping for air. My head aches, and as I turn my focus to the pain, something begins to form, a heat searing across my scalp. I instinctively move my hands to my head and feel something solid forming. Rushing to a small diamond-shaped mirror that’s placed on one of the walls, panic races through me. My reflection stares back at me, a crown of flame curling around my head. I stare at it, the heatless white flames flickering around the golden spires that protrude from the crown. It feels so familiar, so at one with me. It’s the crown I’d seen on Dasmyrin, now sitting on my head, once again reunited with its owner.
“I guess fate is telling me it’s time to be a queen again,” I whisper, voice trembling as my fingers trace along the delicate golden spires.
Still dazedfrom the visions that had flown through my head, I wander the halls, fingers idly trailing the stone walls to try and anchor myself. I find myself wandering right up to the war room, the voices inside reaching me in the hallway. The two guardssnap to attention, their heads bowing as they move aside to let me in.
I push the doors open, and silence falls. Every leader of every realm sits around the table, Korithax standing at the head, mid-sentence. When his eyes lock on me, his mouth parts, but no words come out. Every person turns to look at me, their expressions matching Korithax’s when they take me in.
“Sorry, I…” I falter. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, feeling my cheeks flame.
