Page 19 of Vexatious Queen

Picking the painting up off the easel, I walked across the room to the rest of my work. The canvases stood in the corner, covered and lost to time.

“Take these as well,” I said, pointing.

Mylo came over and picked up the stack. I left the room with the stallion tucked under my arm. Guards followed like a swarm, the thump of their boots loud as they marched in sequence.

We reached the bottom floor, and I stopped at the open door to the library. This was where I’d fallen in love with Eddie. I smiled at the ghostly memory of us running up and down the stairs until we were out of breath.

Someone touched my shoulder, and I looked up at Vlad. He was a true friend and more loyal than most.

“We only have fifteen minutes before the bombs go off. It’s time to lay the ghosts to rest,” he said softly.

Taking a deep breath, we walked out of the house and into the waiting vehicles. I watched out the rear window and counted down the minutes as we drove away. When the ball of fire rose into the night sky, I wasn’t filled with joy as one might think.

To burn the ghosts of my past, I had to become the flame that consumed them. Every echo of the woman I had been—my tenderness, my longing, my sorrow—was broken down and turned to dust.

I had loved, I had lost, and I had learned that survival was not soft. It was forged in pain and sharpened by resolve. I wasn’t happy destroying those who stood in my way, but happiness had never been the goal. Vadin Mikhailov had taught me one fundamental fact—power was freedom. And I finally held both.

My story began with betrayal, heartbreak, and blood. If I wanted to end that volume, then I had to face my father. Not to forgive him, but to unmake him. Only then could I rise from the ashes of what he had created and call the devastation mine.

And when the last of our enemies lay broken at my feet, I would place the crown upon my daughter’s head—its gold cleansed of sin, its jewels polished until no trace of blood remained. Life would not be easy, and the weight of legacy would press heavy on her brow. But at least then, she could reign in a world I had burned clean for her.

JANUARY 15 – THURSDAY 3:31 PM

Ren

Iwas lost in thought watching the setting sun.

There was an endless list of people to worry about, and right now, Blake, Lip, and Ethan were at the very tippy top. At least Ethan was okay. He had forgotten his phone in his bedroom when Theo and Blake showed up with pizza for dinner. It had still scared the crap out of me when Myles had said that Lip’s school hadn’t been able to reach him. If something happened to Ethan…I really didn’t know if Blake would recover. Then I thought of poor Lip…I just didn’t understand why so many horrible things happened to the sweetest souls.

“Did ya hear me?”

I looked up at Myles and blinked. “Sorry, I’m in my…own little world. What did you say?”

Myles cupped my cheeks and gave my lips a soft kiss.

“I said that I’ll see ya after practice.”

I nodded, and he kissed the tip of my nose before he walked away and gave Rory a high-five. I had no idea Rory played lacrosse until now, as with so many other things since the accident, I felt very behind.

The wind picked up, and I took a deep breath of the cold winter air. It always felt fresher this time of year than in summer when it was so hot and sticky. Marcus and the limo were due to arrive at any minute, or I would’ve grabbed a hot chocolate and sat on a bench for a while.

“Well…I managed to avoid you for over a week. I guess I’ll count that as a win.”

Vicky stepped up beside me, and I turned to acknowledge her.

“Good to see you too, sis,” I said, and she hit me with a glare.

“Shh, don’t say that shit too loudly. I don’t want the whole school knowing that we’re related.” She looked around like someone was hiding behind the bush.

“Yes, God forbid,” I mumbled.

“Look. Just because we’re…well, you know…doesn’t mean I want to be your bff and paint each other’s nails.”

She crossed her arms and cocked her hip. The move was so quintessentially Vicky. Her bristle was always ready like a porcupine with its quills.

“I didn’t expect you to, but I was hoping that we’d…finally found a…a space where we didn’t hate one another either. That we…could start fresh.”

Therapy today was going to suck. I could feel it in my bones. It had been like this all day with the stumbling over my sentences. I was secretly worried that something was wrong. That I’d somehow slipped backward or reinjured myself.