And my father, who has traversed the world looking for her, holds her as if she were the greatest treasure to ever walk the earth. And to him—to us—she is.
I have flown on winged horses, swum with sirens, and created briars with gleaming golden roses.
But witnessing my father hold my mother for the first time in decades?
Thisis magic.
I slip out of the High Tower, letting my parents have this moment to themselves.
Tomorrow, we will decide the fate of the rose and thus the fate of the Vale. But tonight?
Tonight is for love.
Becausethatis what this is all for.
Part Four
wicked illusions
65
Caspian
Great bonfires of yellow and orange crackle, lighting up thedark skies of the Autumn Realm. I watch from the tree line. Will there ever be a time when I don’t observe everything from the sidelines, when I can finally be a part of life?
But like many things, such as figuring out who I am without my father’s voice in my head, it’ll take time.
For now, I’ll honor Farron’s brother from afar, listen to the cheerful music, the celebration in his name. I’ll mourn him and the Autumn soldiers that fell to the Prince of Thorns.
Through it all, I feel a spark of hope. Farron and I are both free from the Green Flame in our own ways. And we’ll use that freedom to help the Vale, to end my mother’s tyranny for good.
But today, we celebrate Billagin in his home, to remember a life lost too young. The funeral crowd looks like a treasure hoard, all dressed in gold.
I feel her approach more than hear it. She did always have a way of moving unseen.
“Watching from afar as well?” I tilt my head to look up at Anya. She wears a simple gold dress with a hood.
She sits down next to me on a smooth rock. “I don’t believe the Vale is ready for my return.”
The world isn’t ready or you aren’t?
“Besides, Cas,” she sighs as if reading my mind, “I’m tired.”
I understand. Really, I do. As Sira’s prisoner, her magic was siphoned for the last few decades. She spent all that time in the dark, never knowing the fate of her husband or her eldest daughter and having to watch Sira manipulate her youngest.
No, the queen has every right to feel bone-deep weariness, and yet…
“I don’t think we have the luxury of being tired,” I say. “Not yet.”
She gives me a sidelong glance. “Unfortunately, you’re right.”
I run my hands over the moonstone locket that still dangles from my chest. “Do you want this back? You made it for George, didn’t you?”
“Oh, I didn’t know who it was for when we first forged it,” Anya says. “I didn’t think there was a mate out there for me. But fate never works how you imagine. My daughter gave this to you, so keep it. I thought you looked quite striking in that armor.”
I roll my eyes and let the locket fall back to my chest. “Come on. You were half-dead. You didn’t see anything.”
She pokes me in the cheek, somehow finding a smile. “Are you calling me weak, princeling? I’ll have you know, this magic almost brought an entire being from another world here.”
