Page 71 of The Labyrinth and the Threaded Daughter

His uncle cleared his throat and shifted slightly. All relief in his body seemed to give way to something colder, more calculating. “You passed the trial,” he started. “Which means the Labyrinth took its due.”

Corin felt his chest tighten at that.

“What did you do?” the king asked, eyes sharp and searching.

The question hung in the air, heavy as a drawn blade.

A sacrifice he’d never forgive himself for if he didn’t finish it out. He wasn’t sure how to relay the story of his sacrifice, of what occurred in the halls of the maze. Of the kindness he faced.

Corin closed his eyes for half a heartbeat, letting the healer’s cool hands steady him and the echo of stone doors closing behind him replay in his mind. Ariadne’s face. The way she smiled through the pain. The last vision of her coursing through his memories.

He opened his eyes but did not answer.

Instead, he shifted carefully until he was upright. “I think,” he said hoarsely, “it would be best if I told the story all at once. To all that care to hear.”

Murmurs ripped through the gathered folk.

“The Labyrinth doesn’t give its truths in pieces,” Corin continued, voice steadier now that he had found his footing. “What happened in there won’t make sense without the whole of it. I’d rather speak when everyone who needs to hear it is present.”

Uncle Theros studied him through a few silent breaths. Corin kept his expression open, respectful—but carefully blank.

Finally, the king nodded. “Very well. You’ve earned that much.”

Relief loosened something tight in Corin’s chest, though it didn’t erase the dread beneath it. Time. Just a little more time. Then, he could figure out how to tell his court he was ready to give them up for the woman he met trapped in the maze.

The healer protested halfheartedly, but Corin was already pushing himself to his feet. Whatever the Labyrinth had done to him, it had also left him resilient. The pain was there—achingly insistent—but no longer ruling him.

They moved back toward the Great Hall together.

Mirelle slipped easily into step beside him, already speaking animatedly. “People were terrified, you know. Half the court thought the Labyrinth had claimed an heir for the first time in a century. But I knew that wasn’t the case. You just needed some extra time!”

“Taleon,” Corin interjected softly.

“Yes, that was his name!” Mirelle agreed with glee.

“You gave us all quite a scare,” his uncle added.

Corin shook his head. “My apologies. Time…”

“It moves differently there,” Uncle Theros finished for him. Their eyes met, and Corin nodded once. Someone understood that bit of his trial at least.

“Well, I have already begun arranging the celebrations. Quiet ones for now, but once the formal announcement is made…” Mirelle grinned. “You’ll never hear the end of it.”

Corin managed a small smile. “You’ve always been efficient.”

In truth, he imagined she had planned everything well before he even entered for his trial. They all knew he would be taking over the crown as soon as he finished the trial. Final preparations would need to be made, of course, but he imagined things would move quickly now that he was back in Knossos.

“And your coronation,” she continued, squeezing his arm. “The council agreed—within the week. They won’t delay.”

Speed, efficiency. Both were her specialty.

The word coronation, though, landed strangely. It was heavy. Inevitable. And choking him slowly.

“I’ve coordinated it all with Horal,” Mirelle finished.

“I’m glad he was helpful to you,” Corin mused. “It is all…”

She offered him a small smile as she squeezed his arm once more. “A lot, I know. But you won’t have to worry about a thing. You can recover from your trial, and Horal and I will have it all set up.”