The energetic hum of the divide rolled toward us. The sound was unmistakable. The grand tree in Myrwood Grove seemed as if it stood taller than before.
A chill darted down my spine. The Grove was green, it was lush, and fragrant with the sweet smell that graced me in the Heart. Still the memories haunted me. It hung over me still with every beat of Gaia’s hooves.
The stars meant for me to break. So that I could rebuild, but I still didn’t know if I had. My humanity was gone, never to return, and the rest felt changed beyond recognition.
Tiny flutters.
A steady beat sounded within me.
I smiled even as my eyes watered.
Our horses carried us closer to the divide. The beat of nearly a hundred horses sounded around us.
“We will dismount and approach on foot.” Lioran commanded Lythira’s warriors. He lifted me down from Gaia. For a moment, only the two of us stood in the Grove. A wave of nausea overcame me. It caught in my throat. I clutched his biceps.
“I will wait with you,” he whispered. “It will be over soon.” He held me close to his chest.
My eyes shut. I breathed through it, until only the flutters greeted me again.
“My love, do not push yourself. Fyn can take you back.”
“I’m going to see it with you.” I opened my eyes. He offered his arm to me, his free hand rested on the hilt of his sword. Fyn fell in place beside us.
“They say it only continues to crumble.” Cora’s voice trailed up to us.
The divide bellowed—a desperate warning leached through the air. Through the wave of glittering gold, I saw it—it wasn’t just a crack. A hole had formed. A sea of knights lined the divide. They wouldn’t all be able to pass through, the hole wasn’t big enough, but we could see them. As I studied their armor, I knew what army we were facing.
“It’s Bailoc,” I said.
“I don’t like the look of this,” Fyn warned, but my husband needed no warning. He nudged me back, and with a single gesture, the entire band of warriors closed in tight formation around us.
“If anything happens, take her back,” Lioran commanded to Fyn. He only nodded. Lioran squeezed my hand in his.
Barren, rotten trees and dried out soil spread as far as Icould see. The stench of rot wafted toward me on the wind. I gripped Lioran’s arm harder.
On our side of the wall, everything was lush and on theirs, everything was dead.
“My magic didn’t reverse it,” I whispered.
“Assess the damage,” a voice commanded. I was no stranger to that voice. I knew it as well as I knew my own.
The knights parted and Agan stepped to the forefront of the crowd. A gem studded crown nestled into his golden braid. He wore King Ardyn’s cloak, with a golden clasp. His hand held his sword outward. The engraved blade shone brightly. King Ardyn’s sword.
“Agan,” I murmured. It wasn’t loud enough for him to hear, but I was desperate for him to sheath his sword, for him to look at me.
Lioran gripped the hilt of his sword.
Agan studied me, his eyes flickered with something new as he looked at my ears. His lips pursed in disgust.
“King Agan of Bailoc,” I called.
He mouthed my name as horror darkened his gaze.
“I’ve come with my husband, Prince Lioran of Lythira.”
“We are here to assess the damage at the divide and restoration beyond.” Lioran’s voice carried majestically on the wind. He was calm and sure. “We mean you no harm.”
Agan’s glare pelted him. “Aelira…” He ran his fingers across his jaw.
