She crosses her arms, her gaze hardening. “Strength? You’ve known me for what, a day? You don’t know anything about me.”
I nod again. “I may not know the details of your past, but I see the strength in you. The goddess herself spoke it. You are more than you think.”
She falls silent, her lips pressing into a thin line. She doesn’t reject my words, but she doesn’t accept them either. “You called me your mate. What does that actually mean? Why me? Is it because of this prophecy?”
“The bond between us is fated,” I explain, trying to keep my tone gentle. “It’s more than just prophecy. It’s the connection the goddesses have woven between us, something neither of us can fully understand yet. But it’s real.”
She’s quiet again, and conflict sparks in her eyes. She wants to say more, but she’s holding back. I can feel it.
A few moments pass in silence, and then, she speaks again. “The goddess said, ‘you shall mend what has been broken.’” Her voice is quieter this time. “What does that even mean?”
“The earth... it’s suffering from an imbalance,” I explain. “This imbalance has disrupted the natural flow of energy between the ethereal and physical realms. The land itself is in pain, and that pain affects everything—plants, animals, even the seasons. The role of the leader, of you—us—is to restore that balance. To heal what’s been fractured for so long.”
She frowns, her eyes narrowing. “Restore the balance,” she repeats slowly. “And I’m supposed to... what? Fix the entire world?”
“I’ll be with you the whole time,” I say quickly, trying to reassure her. “You won’t be alone in this. I’ll help you, guide you??—”
“Stop. You keep saying that, Theron. That you’ll be with me. That I’m supposed to do this. But you don’t understand.”
I freeze, my heart beats faster. But I stay quiet, giving her space to say what she needs to say, even though the intensity of her gaze makes every muscle in my body want to reach out and comfort her.
I don’t know what to do.
She runs a hand through her damp hair, nose wrinkling. “You don’t understand what it’s like to have all this thrown at you, to be told that you’re supposed to save the world when you barely understand any of it.” Her voice rises with every word.
I open my mouth to respond, but I stop myself. Something tells me this isn’t the time for me to reassure her or tell her she’s strong enough. She doesn’t need that. She needs something I can’t quite grasp yet.
Noël’s breathing is heavier now, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tries to keep her emotions in check. But I can see the frustration, the confusion, the anger, all swirling inside her, ready to explode.
I clench my fists at my sides. Then, as I’m about to speak, she looks up at me again.
“What makes you think I’ll go to Ávera with you?”
16
THE CALL OF FATE, THE WEIGHT OF LOSS
“One day, the world will kneel to the woman with blue roses in her blood.”
—Eyleen Ársa
Noël
These past few days have been nothing but chaos. Everything I thought I knew about the world has been shattered, and I haven’t had a second to breathe, never mind process anything. Now, a goddess—an actual goddess—has appeared and told me I’m some kind of leader and that I’m supposed to restore balance? Restore what? How?
Frustration claws at the inside of my chest. I’m angry. Furious. How could everything fall apart so fast? I had my whole life planned: become a commander, change the stupid laws of Tárnov, take control of my life.
I already made so many changes in the foolish military system. I even proposed jobs “suitable for women,” at least according to men’s egos. But that’s alright, we can start smallby letting women have jobs. It might begin with office roles, but then it could expand to every position. I believed I could make a change.
But now, I’m . . . lost.
“Why me?” The words spill out, my voice rising without my permission. “Why doIhave to be the one to fix everything?”
Mate? Leader? Restore balance?
“Noël...” He moves closer. Theron. His presence, so calm, doesn’t soothe me at all. It just reminds me of the expectations everyone has heaped on top of me.
I snap.
