Page 116 of The Crowned Queen

She saved Jaxon’s office for last. Eloria trailed after her, her gaze narrowing when she caught sight of the runework woven into the carved door. It opened easily under Araya’s touch as well—after all, nothing had been off-limits to her here. Not even the hundreds of books that lined the shelves. A small collection compared to the library at Ithralis—but at one point this had been more knowledge than Araya could have ever dreamed of being permitted to access.

She ran her hand along the bookshelf, crossing the room to the desk that stood in front of the doors onto the balcony. His journal sat to one side—within easy reach if he was struck with brilliance while he worked. But Araya’s attention was on the familiar book beside it, its dark cover stamped with familiar curling silver script.

The Chronicles of Valendral. The book that had started all of this. She opened it carefully, the archival paper Jaxon had kept it wrapped in crinkling as she ran her fingers over the curling script. If she’d never picked this book up, would she ever have even met Loren?

“This is the only thing I want,” she said. “Someone else can pack everything else up. It should all be given to people who need it.”

“Are you sure?” Eloria asked, startled.

“Yes.” Araya tucked the book more firmly under her arm. Nothing here belonged to her. It never had. “His workshop at the Aetherium will need to be packed up as well. There are cursed items there—things that will need to be carefully handled. But if you help find me the right person to dispose of it all properly, I can let them in.”

“Alright.” Eloria nodded slowly. “Are you ready then? We can probably still make the Small Council meeting.”

Araya smiled at her. “I’d like that,” she said, looping their arms together.

She didn’t look back.

They walked to the Aetherium, enjoying the bit of summer warmth that still clung to the early fall air. Dominion Day had come and gone a few weeks ago, unremarked and uncelebrated as Loren bent himself to forging a new government from the ashes. As a consequence, he spent all night and day in the South Tower, locked in the same meeting room the Arcanum had used to conduct official business.

The building looked the same from the outside, with its soaring architecture and carved stone. But the crowd surrounding it had shifted, the street filled with humans and fae alike, the latter staring up at the silver-blue veins of magic pulsing through the stone with naked awe.

“I never got to see it before,” Eloria commented, craning her neck to stare up at it. “Does it ever get any less impressive?”

“No.” Araya shook her head. “It doesn’t.”

Inside was just as packed, the great hall filled with fae of all ages waiting nervously to have their ly’ithra and ta’nara runes removed by the legion of runesmiths Kai had pressed into service. Serafina’s trusted legion of healers moved among them, offering comfort and care wherever they could. Araya prayed to the absent Goddess that this would be the last time any of these fae felt the bite of an iron needle on their flesh.

“Your Majesty, Princess Eloria.” One of the fae soldiers stationed at the base of the stairs leading up into the South Tower stepped forward, clapping his fist to his chest before he bowed deeply. “His Majesty just convened with the Small Council.”

“Thank you,” Eloria said, dipping into an elegant curtsy. “We can find our own way up.”

“Do you ever get used to that?” Araya muttered when they had passed out of earshot.

Eloria laughed. “Eventually,” she said. “You’ll be an old hand at it after the first hundred or so.”

“So next week?” Araya laughed, shaking her head as they stepped into the long hall. She’d never had an excuse to come here before, but she could see the empty places on the walls where tapestries emblazoned with the Arcanum’s Eye had been yanked down. A legion of fae were already hard at work replacing them, hoisting green and silver banners in their place.

Two more soldiers stood at the double doors, straightening at their approach.

“Your Majesty,” the senior guard bowed to Araya, then Eloria. “Princess. How can we be of service?”

“You can give us a hint of what we might be walking into,” Eloria said with a conspiratorial wink. “How has the tone been today?”

“Tense, Princess,” the guard said, his expression somber. “I think it will do His Majesty good to see you, Your Majesty,” he said to Araya. “It has been a difficult day so far.”

“We’ve had a lot of those lately,” Araya said quietly. “Let them know we’re here, please.”

The guard bowed again, stepping back to push open the door for them. “Queen Araya and Princess Eloria,” he said in a booming voice.

Chairs scraped back, conversation at the long table halting as everyone stood. Thorne smiled at her, his amber eyes tired but his expression warm. Finn and Serafina stood beside him, along with Kai and a fae female from Farhallow that Loren had introduced to her as Raelle.

“Your Majesty.” A chiming, high voice called Araya’s attention to the other end of the table. The High Luminary bowed low, her silver hair glittering with gems like stars. “What a pleasure it is to see you alive and well.”

“Yes,” the High Arbiter echoed, his wrinkled face serious. “We are so glad for your safe return.”

As if either of them had anything to do with it. Loren had told her everything—his entire Small Council had voted against sending rescue forces after her.

She forced a smile anyway, inclining her head respectfully to the two older fae. “Myna, Maelor,” she said, deliberately exercising her right to refer to them by their names alone. “Thank you for the kind welcome. I wasn’t aware you had dissented from the decision to leave me in the New Dominion.”