As the final course is cleared, and the wine begins to run dry, I rise from my seat and clear my throat.
“My friends,” I speak, my voice cutting through the celebration. “Tonight, when the moon hangs high, you will see something this realm has not witnessed in thousands of years. The crowning of a King. And the rise of a Queen.”
The room quietens.
“She is more than legend, she is more than fire, flame, blood, or the crown. She is mine, and I am hers. Tonight, we rise together. Tonight... Hell remembers who it belongs to.”
Applause erupts, and cheers ring out. My eyes find hers, and I give her a single nod, raising my glass to her. She raises hers back in understanding.
It was time.
Chapter 56
Daisy
The feast blurred in a haze of clinking glasses, roaring toasts, and stolen glances with my soon-to-be King.
I had laughed until my ribs ached, cried into Talia’s shoulder, and held so tightly onto Ezra’s hand under the table that I’m pretty sure I saw him wince more than once. I was grateful they were here for this. I was so upset they couldn’t be there for the wedding, so them being here to see me become a queen—it was surreal. Seeing their faces at the grand hall with all of the different leaders had me chuckling. So quickly, all of this had become normal to me—these people with magical powers, who looked so ethereal and strange. I’d started to forget that this wasn’t normal for people to witness, so seeing them so wide-eyed when glancing across the tables… It was a stark reminder of just how much my life truly had changed in such a short amount of time.
But now, as Sariya gently takes my hand and leads me from the grand hall, the weight of it all presses into my chest.
We slip into my chambers—Sariya, Elyistria, Talia, Ezra, and me. The room’s softly lit by the sconces holding flickering candles, the midnight-black velvet canopy above the bed glittering with stardust, looking like a night sky. My body aches from tightly wound emotion and consuming too much wine, but my soul trembles from what’s coming. I was about to become a queen. Again.
“Holy shit,” Talia whispers, “this entire castle is insane.”
Ezra flops dramatically onto the velvet bench at the end of the bed. “I want to live here. I want to die here. I want to be reincarnated as that throw pillow.” He laughs.
Sariya giggles at him. “I’m sure you’ll be welcome any time.”
Talia sniffles, looking around the room. “This is all so fucked. You’re all freaks, and I love you so much.”
I burst into laughter, wiping away my tears before pulling her into a tight hug. “Thank you for being here.”
As if summoned by the emotions in the room, Lyvia steps through the door. Her lavender hair braided back, her delicate hands clasped before her. She looks so small in this room of goddesses, but her presence fills something inside me.
“Lyvia,” I breathe, hurrying to her. “I was hoping you’d come.”
“I wasn’t sure if I should,” she whispers. “There are… more important people with you now.”
I cup her face, making sure her pale violet eyes meet mine. “You are important, Lyvia. You’re not just my maid, you’re my friend. Be with me tonight, please.”
Lyvia’s cheeks flush, matching the colour of her hair. “Only if I can still help dress you. Let me help my queen ascend.”
My throat constricts, a lump forming instantly at her words. I nod, hugging her tightly.
She takes my hand and leads me toward the dressing screen that’s been put up in the corner of the room. And just tothe side, next to the roaring fire, a mannequin stands, the gown draped over it. It’s breathtaking. Midnight-black silk that shimmers with starlight, as if the cosmos had been dusted across the fabric itself. The embroidery around the hem dances with magical flame imbued into the design, curling in white, alive, and flickering like liquid silver. The corset bodice shimmers like obsidian armour, sculpted to my form with sharp edges, only to be softened by translucent black lace that falls like smoke down the arms.
“This…” I gasp. “This isn’t mine.”
Elyistria steps closer, her silver-blue eyes shining with unshed tears. “It was Dasmyrin’s design. She sketched it centuries ago but never lived to wear it.”
I turn to her in shock. I couldn’t wear this. It was hers to wear, not mine. Even though technically I am her, but I’m also not. Gods, my heart’s hammering.
“It will suit you well, sunshine queen.” She whispers.
“I can’t,” I sniffle. “What if I’m not enough. What if I fail her legacy? To wear her dress, only to not live up to her name.”
My breaths start coming in heavy, my pulse quickening as the anxiety and pressure threaten to shatter me entirely.
