“Of course.”
My gentle knock brought Urien to the door, his haggard expression softening when he saw me. Without a word, he ushered us in. Lyana stood near the window, her gaze fixed outside through the bubbled glass. Ethyan lounged on her bed, legs crossed at the ankles. I exchanged a questioning glance with him as I entered, noticing his sister’s reluctance to acknowledge our presence.
At least she was up.
With a subtle shake of his head, Ethyan returned his gaze to the ceiling.
“Lyana?” I called softly, not wanting to startle her.
When she faced me, she seemed surprisingly composed. Her eyes were clear, not the bloodshot red I anticipated. A faint smile touched her lips, a fragile thing that spoke volumes. She glanced at the box, a solemn reminder of our loss. On slow steps, I approached, offering it to her.
“His heart was only ever yours,” I murmured, guiding her hands to grasp it. “Do as you please with it.”
Her eyes pressed shut, a silent gesture of her pain, before she cradled the box against her chest. When she looked at me again, her tears brimmed, threatening to spill over.
“Thank you, El.”
A remorseful smile wavered on my lips. “I wish there was more I could do.”
“I…” her attention drifted back to the window, “I think I want to go home.”
A pang shot through me at her words, like an arrow striking true.
I should’ve been grateful for the time she spent here, especially considering she only suffered since her arrival. Still, knowing the two people I loved more than anyone wanted to leave—hurt more than I thought possible.
“I understand.” My voice remained steady. Perhaps my royal blood was finally asserting itself, allowing me to keep my emotions in check. “I will have preparations made.”
“We’ll be back.”
Ethyan’s reassurance barely registered through the haze clouding my heart. Her desire to leave, to return to what she knew as home, cut deeper than I dared admit. My composure became a shield, masking the raw hurt.
“Of course.” I forced a smile, though it felt brittle as a tear slipped down my cheek. “When you return, the castle will be ready to welcome you back.”
The weight of those words was heavier than the box in her arms. The journey from Landing’s End to Wynterborne was grueling, and the chances of them ever making that trip again were slim to none.
I hurried my goodbyes and fled the room. As the door shut behind me, enveloping me in the quiet safety of the corridor, I closed my eyes and drew in a deep, steadying breath. After I swiped the tear from my cheek, I forced a grin at Anderz, but it felt hollow.
I would have to rule without my friends.
Sainte stepped closer, his arm brushing against my shoulder, and I startled, meeting his gaze. Understanding swirled in those blue depths, and he offered a reassuring nod.
I could do this.
Sniffling, I inclined my head to Anderz, who studied me with attentive eyes.
“Lead on, Counselor.”
I thought the throne room was glamorous, but the Chamber of the Gods put it to shame.
My ancestors spared no expense in crafting this vast and magnificent space. The ceiling stretched above, our footsteps echoing along the stone floor. Veins of gold ran through dark walls, connecting them to the luminous white marble beneath our feet. Far above, chandeliers bedecked with crystalline mirrors scattered light with every gentle sway. Sculptures and shrines adorned each surface,evidence of meticulous craftsmanship. Designed by skilled hands, the natural cave gleamed under numerous glittering lamps.
High above the bustling crowd were statues depicting the gods. Among them, a white marble statue of a little girl caught my eye. Frozen mid-spin on one dainty toe, face bright with perpetual laughter, an intricate marvel of sculpted joy.
Nellie would have adored it.
At the opposite end of the chamber, a colossal sculpture dominated the space. Nothar, perched atop a majestic stag, towered over all others. The gilded antlers spanned wide, far beyond any ordinary deer’s. It matched the stag from the second rite perfectly. The god sat tall and regal, a crown of ice adorning his head. His long hair billowed in a chilly breeze, adding an ethereal touch to the scene.
But his eyes—they stopped me dead in my tracks.
