Dax’s expression suggested a longer answer than he intended to give.
“Once.”
“And Norse?”
“Norse is different. He is Sule and Leena’s naturally born son, the first child born directly from Sule’s line.”
“The prophecy.”
Dax nodded.
“If the prophecy is true, Norse may one day continue a pure bloodline powerful enough to alter the balance between the clans.”
“That is why the heretics want him dead.”
“They fear what he may become long before he is capable of becoming it.”
Veya drew in a slow, habitual breath.
“Leena must have been terrified.”
“She was, although she rarely allowed fear to choose for her.”
Veya looked around the garden again, taking in the lanterns, climbing roses, herbs, and winding paths that had survived their creator.
“She must have been incredible.”
“She was.”
Something in Dax’s voice fractured briefly before he brought it under control.
Veya watched the plants moving through the mist.
Leena had not merely occupied the stronghold. She had shaped it, leaving pieces of herself inside the child sleeping upstairs, the king who could not release her, the Charon whispering promises in a nursery, and the garden continuing to grow despite her absence.
Veya understood then that Leena was not merely gone.
She remained everywhere.
Chapter 21
Dax turned his head and looked at Veya properly.
His attention felt different from Rhen’s. Rhen watched her as though measuring threat, weakness, and the exact amount of force required to bring a room under control. Dax’s gaze rested upon her with something steadier, something that did not recoil from the shaking aftermath of her transformation, the unfamiliarity of her own skin, or the grief saturating a house she had entered too late to understand.
For a moment, the sounds of the garden seemed to soften around them, leaving only the wind moving through the rosemary, the distant ticking of chimes, and the faint struggle of lantern light against the mist.
“Because you’re here,” he said eventually, his voice losing some of its teasing edge. “And because nobody should wake into a world like this and have Rhen as their only source of guidance.”
Veya’s mouth tightened as though she could not decide whether to laugh or spit.
“He saved me.”
Dax’s expression barely changed, although acceptance moved briefly through his eyes alongside an older, harsher understanding.
“Rhen does nothing without a reason. It may not have been compassion, but something about you made him interfere.”
Veya traced one fingertip along the grain of the bench, using the roughness of the wood to anchor herself.
