“Enough!”
A sharp voice snaps me out of my rage. The thorns retreat instantly, each falling to the blood-soaked ground with a lifelessthud. Turning slowly, I see Elder Aïna standing tall with her piercing gaze fixed on me.
Not the crowd. Not the nýmphí. Me.
I swallow hard and, stomach twisting, turn back toward the others. The scene before me feels like a punch to the gut. The children are trembling, their tails tucked between their legs, while the females stand frozen and wide-eyed with fear. Fear ofme.
What have I done?
I glance down at myself. Thick, thorny vines have sprouted from the ground, encasing my boots and legs, crawling up my body like chains. My arms are stained with blood. I’m so soaked in it the metallic scent hangs in the air.
“You could hurt yourself and the others, Ethereal Leader,” Elder Aïna says as she steps closer and lifts her paw. With that simple gesture, the vines loosen their grip and sink back into the earth. My body feels lighter, but the shame weighs heavily on me.
“I-I’m sorry,” I mutter.These dark thoughts . . .
Elder Aïna’s expression softens. “Power without control is chaos. You must find balance, Ethereal Leader. For their sake, and your own.”
Her gaze flicks to the cowering children, and my heart aches. I’ve scared them.
“The training is over,” she declares.
The nýmphí release the children and offer them small, colorful stones to ease their fear. The children clutch the tokens tightly, their trembling gradually easing.
I stare down at my bloody hands. My voice comes out in a whisper, barely heard even to myself. “What is wrong with me?”
“Nothing is wrong,” Elder Aïna says. “You are slowly awakening, and you let your emotions take hold. It isn’t a bad thing. But you must learn to control it.”
“I feel like I’m doing nothing!” My head jerks up to meet her gaze, and I see no anger there, only understanding. “I need to act, torush forward! Every second I wait, I feel like I’m failing them.”
“You have done plenty,” she replies.
“Not enough,” I insist, shaking my head. “Not at all. Women are still suffering. I am here, fed and safe, while others live only to survive. How can that ever be enough?”
“You see each achievement as another task completed, but you never stop to notice the victories that come with them.”
“Victories?” I echo. “What victories? I amherewhile they are still in chains. How can I call anything I’ve done a victory?”
“You’ve lost your mother, yet you found your father. You’ve uncovered truths that others could not even dream of knowing, and you’ve begun to piece together a plan to fix what was broken. You teach wisdom to the females. You give strength to the children. You care forus, Your Majesty. You care for us all.”
The truth in her words stings. My jaw tightens as I fight against the urge to argue, to insist it isn’t enough, that it never will be.
“You think your victories are small because the world isn’t yet whole,” Elder Aïna continues. “But every step you take, every lesson you give, it matters. It’s the start of the balance we’ve been waiting for.”
I swallow hard. The blood on my hands has gone cold and begun to dry.
“We all want to go out and bring this world peace,” Naïa says.
Of course they want it as much as I do. They’ve lived in this confined world, dreaming of freedom, just as I have. But... I’veseenwhat it’s like out there.
I’ve heard the tales of other villages—of their struggles, their poverty, their lives spent clawing for scraps. At least Tárnovdidn’t lack as much as the others, even if the only truly wealthy village is Velháven, the capital of Vathéria.
The tsar’s stronghold sits there, ruling over everything. It’s a fortress of wealth and indulgence, surrounded by nobles and businessmen who thrive while others rot.
The tsar has a daughter, Tsarevna Elara. The portrait of her and her father is seen in every office. My general kept it in his office as well, a symbol of power and loyalty. Every meeting I attended, her painted gaze stared back at me. Beautiful blonde hair, full cheeks, and round shape. The definition of beauty.
If he has a daughter he loves so much, then why does he allow other women to suffer?
The answer is obvious: Because he doesn’t care. He enjoys his power. He revels in his control. But I will take it from him.
