Page 46 of She Who Holds My Wrath

When Aran answered, I didn’t think. I didn’t weigh the moral algebra of angels and demons and promises made all that time ago. I just let my hand do what my heart had been rehearsing since he left. I punched him. His head snapped to the side, blood blooming from his nose. And for one sharp second, that hit felt better than any forgiveness ever could.

But when Daisy said my name, every other sound fell to its knees, because I saw her, alive, breathing, and in the flesh. And I broke all over again. I just stared at her, and for the first time in a month, the world didn’t feel monotone. It felt like itself, vibrant and ours.

Chapter 21

DAISY

The world always feels so quiet after goodbyes.

But maybe it’s just me. Maybe Hell has always sounded this way, sort of muffled at the edges, as if even the air, like myself, holds its breath when grief lingers just a little too long. I tried so hard not to cry when Ezra held me at the edge of the portal. I’d done so much of it already. His hands trembled when he said goodbye, and I knew he wanted to say, ‘Don’t go back there, Daze.’ But he didn’t. Because he understands I don’t have a choice anymore. People need me, and I can’t turn my back. Not now.

We had decided to go to our favourite park when it got dark, to say our goodbyes. It’s the park we’d always go when we wanted to separate ourselves from college. Talia would bring the alcohol, Ezra would bring the snacks, and I always turned up empty handed, feeling useless. But they never made me feel that way. They understood I couldn’t afford much, thanks to the way life was for me. They never once made me feel like anything less than amazing, and always brought my favourite snacks and drinks—Dr Pepper, peanut-butter cups and goldfish, duh—and never, ever, making me feel like a burden.

Ezra and I sat and spoke about her for hours. How Talia would simultaneously light up a room and intimidate it. She was a force to be reckoned with, and someone you absolutely wanted on your side. She was a ride or die, and I know, no matter how long I get to live, there will never be another Talia. She was truly one of a kind. After we laughed until we cried, and shared all of our favourite memories, we both wrote letters to her. I used my fire to burn them, making Ezra gasp in shock, and sent the ashes up to heaven. Because there’s nowhere else she could be. She’ll be up there, leading her own cheer squad, making everyone love her. Because that’s just what Talia did. It was therapeutic and symbolic. A promise that she would not be forgotten. And I swear I could smell her coconut and cherry scent as we wished her a final farewell.

When it was over, Ezra pressed his forehead against mine and whispered, “She loved you. You know that, right? She always said you were the brightest light in the world, and that even the sun couldn’t compare, despite us calling you the sunshine.”

My throat had closed up at his words. I hugged him tighter than I meant to, whispering back, “I’ll make her proud. I’ll make you both proud.”

Even though I’ve only just returned to Hell, that felt like a lifetime ago. I felt bad staying behind as long as I did. Aran was a nervous wreck, constantly checking over his shoulder, spooked by even the smallest of sounds. But I honestly didn’t care if the Six found me. I needed that. Ezra needed that. The skies are now dark, twinkling with shining stars. Zeriavoss looks so different at night. Softer. Almost serene. The spires outside glow with soft flames, and down below, past the fields, the village streets bustle with the noise of people rebuilding, of learning how to live again. The scent of burning buildings no longer lingers, and the screams and cries no longer echo. It still feels broken, but no longer hopeless. I hope I can feel like that someday soon.

Aran left around half an hour ago, and told me to rest up before life as queen resumes tomorrow. Not long after he left, Melisana came through to help me get ready for bed. I politely dismissed her and told her I’d be fine to do it myself. In truth, I just needed time alone. And I had almost twenty years’ experience prior to becoming queen at getting myself ready for bed. I’m sure doing it myself now wouldn’t kill me.

Sleep took me quicker than I had anticipated last night. Thankfully, it was a dreamless sleep from what I remember, and I’m awoken once again by Melisana. She places my breakfast on the table and gets to work at running me a bath and setting out my clothing for the day. It feels odd being without Lyvia. But I’m glad she’s finally in the place she wanted to be in all along. I’m so proud of her; I just hope she’s not drowning in the struggle from the aftermath of the attacks. I’d hate that. I want her to enjoy being in The Spires, not suffering with a workload she can’t handle.

I start making quick work of the breakfast laid out for me—coffee, pyreloaf with a bunch of jams, and some fancy meats and cheeses, too. I devour most of it, and I can’t help the moan that slips out when the tender meat hits my tongue. I completely forgot I hadn’t eaten since waking from the coma, so I’m well aware I’m eating like an absolute pig right now. I swear Melisana stifles a laugh at the way I’m devouring the food in front of me.

“Sorry. It’s been a few days since I’ve eaten,” I murmur, wiping at my mouth with a napkin as heat crawls up my cheeks.

“Would you like more?” She beams, clearing up the empty plates.

I shake my head. “No, thank you. I’m stuffed.”

I’m truly happy for Lyvia for finally being where she wanted to be, but it feels almost like a betrayal accepting help from another maid. Maybe I’ll just tell them I don’t want one anymore. One less attachment. One less person to worry about when war comes calling. I won’t fire her, that’s cruel. But maybe just have her assist someone else with the same amount of pay. Gods, I don’t even know what the staff here get paid. Is that my responsibility? My head hurts.

Once I’m ready and dressed in a simple black and silver gown, my hair braided back and my dagger strapped at my thigh, I make my way towards the war room with Corin by my side. “Just you today?” I ask, looking around for the usual second guard that lingers by.

Corin nods. “Stefian’s wife has given birth, and apparently his stand-in takes thirty minutes to piss.” He huffs.

“Oh, that’s amazing news. The birth, not the new guy taking thirty minutes to piss,” I blurt. Gods above and below, I am a freaking mess today. “Do you want me to replace him, the new guy?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Nah. I’ll have him whipped into shape in no time, Your Highness.” He laughs. He doesn’t seem nervous around me anymore, which is nice. I still feel awful about nearly barbequing him.

I laugh with him and continue the walk in pleasant silence. I can hear Maelkar’s laugh echoing from somewhere down the corridor before I even reach the war room—that low, velvet sound that somehow manages to be both comforting, and infuriating. Lucifer’s voice overlaps with his, sharp and teasing as always.

Velentha, Maelkar, and Lucifer kept things running during my quick absence with Aran yesterday, and I couldn’t be more grateful for them giving me the opportunity to finally go see my best friend. I smile to Corin, bowing my head in farewell before pushing the door open to the war room. When I step inside, all conversations halt instantly.

“Your Majesty,” Velentha says with a soft smile, rising from her seat. She look so tired. Her jet-black hair is pushed back from her face, and her silver eyes have dark circles beneath them. “You look… better.”

“Still alive,” Lucifer says, tipping an imaginary hat. “Didn’t expect that after the coma. Thought I’d have to start drafting your eulogy.”

“Shame,” I reply dryly, taking my seat at the head of the paper-scattered table. “I would’ve loved to see what you came up with.”

He grins, teeth flashing so brightly I swear his fangs glint. “Oh, it was going to be poetic as hell. ‘Here lies Daisy—our flaming drama queen. She burned everything but her enemies.’”

I glare at him as Velentha cuts in. “Enough!” I see a small smile tugging at her lips though. “She’s barely sat down.”

Maelkar leans back lazily, his shadows curling around his shoulders like smoke. “Good to have you back, hellflower. Place felt dull without your righteous fury.”