I trace over the cold stone, over my mother’s carvings. “I will start this war, Father. I hope Mother is sitting beside you, listening. I hope you’re together, watching over me.” My fingersbrush the edge of a nearby rose. “Can you watch over Theron too?”
The sound of flapping wings draws my attention upward. I follow the movement as a white dove lands on the gravestone. My stomach drops when I see my mother’s handkerchief wrapped around its leg. There’s something else tied to it.
“Where did you get that handkerchief, little one?”
The dove tilts its head to the side and makes a soft cooing sound.
“This handkerchief is very important to me. Please, give it back.”
The dove steps sideways along the gravestone, inching closer, then lifts its leg to reveal that the handkerchief is secured with a piece of folded paper. Is that a sign for me to take it?
“You’re trained, aren’t you?” I ask as I gently untie the knot. “Who tied this handkerchief to you?” I unfold the paper. My breath catches in my throat.
No. No, this can’t be.
Blinking hard, I shake my head. I must be imagining things. My vision blurs as my hands begin to tremble. Tears spill onto the paper, turning the inked dots a darker shade. It’s a page from my mother’s book, the one about the ritual calledChains of Blood.
I lift my gaze to the dove. It has moved to stand quietly beside the grave. Then it taps against the stone. My eyes follow its beak until I see the name.Eyleen.
“No,” I breathe, the word breaking in my throat. My whole body trembles. “Mother?”
I scan through the words on the page. “In the time of veiled suns and forgotten stars, when the blood of the ancients stirs once more, one shall be given, not taken, willingly offered upon the sacred tether.
“Only by the hand of her own heart shall the first be sealed.
“Only then may the second, born of her line and bearing the soul-mark, cross the threshold. And when both steps are fulfilled, the Chains of Blood shall shatter, and the path between realms shall be undone.”
A sacrifice . . . an ancient bloodline crossing paths . . .
I am the ancient bloodline. I am the blue rose. I am the daughter of the sacrifice. She gave herself so I could cross the threshold—the barrier.
“Mother!” I cry out, and the dove hops onto my thigh, cooing as if to soothe me.
“You followed me through every step of this path,” I whisper, my voice breaking as I lean closer to the dove. “You gave Theron a sign... you left me so I could fulfill my destiny!”
A sob shudders through me. My fingers curl around the edge of the gravestone as if I could anchor myself in her presence. “I read your diary, Mother,” I cry. “I know now. Iknowwhat you gave up.”
My chest heaves, the grief clawing its way up like fire through my ribs. “You didn’t deserve this,” I wail, and it echoes in the still air. “You were never meant to carry the weight of a prophecy. You were meant to be happy. You were meant to live!”
The dove watches me with quiet eyes, and I swear I see something in its gaze. Something familiar, something achingly familiar.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you had to die so I could live.”
The dove hops closer, then nestles into the fabric of my gown. I clutch the handkerchief to my heart, now broken wide open.
I sit in this position, crumpled over my knees, for a very long time. My tears have dried and the little dove is long asleep. “Thank you for looking after me.” I take the dove in my palms, close my eyes, and lift it up, letting it fly free. I don’t want to see it. It hurts too much to say goodbye.
“Please go.”
Its wings brush against the air as it flies away.
I’m not sure if I feel relief or guilt, but I finally know what happened to her. If anyone killed her, I wouldn’t have been able to cross the barrier. So she did it herself. She marked the page before I came, and took her own life so I could thrive. It hurts, but this was her decision. I should respect that.
“Your Majesty.” Zephyr’s voice pulls me from my one-sided conversation. I open my eyes and turn to see him and Kaël standing nearby. Kaël looks like he’s on the verge of tears.
A small smile creeps onto my face. “You remind me of Essin, Kaël.”
They step closer, but as they reach the edge of the roses, they pause.
