Page 11 of A Courage of the Chosen

I say nothing for now, knowing this will be a subject that will likely come up at some point in the future, but I intend to stand my ground and insist any formal celebration waits until the fighting is over.

Ending the Dorche has to be our focus.

We round a bend, and suddenly I’m thrown back to five months ago, when I’d walked this very corridor with something other than grief and pain in my heart. Those things still exist, along with the burden of expectation, and the vicious claws of fear that have seized me tightly.

It’s taken everything I’ve been through to understand that you can feel more than one thing at once.

I can be scared and brave.

I can be hurting and still feel joy.

I can be angry at the past, and hopeful for the future.

And most importantly, I can trust someone and still protect myself.

Pausing at the door to the rooms I once called mine, I reach for the door handle.

“No you don’t, lass. You’re getting an upgrade,” Reyne says with a wink. She drags me along as we continue to follow her father down the hall.

We pass Tavish’s rooms, my past with him sealed away behind the simple wooden door. “I want his and Raghnall’s rooms searched from top to bottom,” I demand.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Hector replies instantly.

“Being queen suits you, you know,” Rach adds with a smirk.

“Don’t start,” I reply, rolling my eyes.

“And seeing you boss people about is kinda hot,” she continues. Hector chokes on nothing, and Reyne’s laughter bounces around us.

We approach a place I never bothered to venture since I knew this was where Raghnall’s rooms were, and I had no desire in getting even remotely close to them. A set of double doors, more ornate than those we’ve passed, remain closed.

“Raghnall’s chambers,” Reyne confirms.

“I’ll have guards sent up to search them as soon as I see you to your rooms,” Hector scowls.

Windows appear on our left, the evening sky twinkling above the darkening canvas that houses mountains, forests, and a clear blue lake starting to look like a pot of ink beneath the fading sun. At the end of the hall stands another set of doors, bigger than even the ones to Raghnall’s room.

The dark wood is threaded with silver in intricate patterns, and etched into the center, just above the handles, is the same symbol that’s emblazoned onto my armor, and the tiny tattoo branded on my hip. Four circles interlaced in the middle to create an intricate pattern I spent hours doodling after I’d discovered them in Granny’s journals.

The emblem of the Darrow family.

“These rooms haven’t been used for some time,” Hector begins. “It infuriated Raghnall that he couldn’t access the true royal chambers. For some reason, they won’t open for anyone. But I . . .”

His words trail off since I’m already striding forward. I know exactly what will happen when I place my palm on the silver doorknob.

Magic calls to my blood, rolling up my arm like a wave, until it reaches the place in my chest where my power resides, and it answers in turn.

The magic tumbles back down, and the handle moves beneath my hand, opening surprisingly easily for a door that hasn’t moved in over one hundred years.

I step into a simple entryway that contains a dark-oak round table, a vase full of long-dead flowers in the middle. Reyne tuts and snaps her fingers, making the items disappear within an instant. It takes me back to one of our first conversations, where she told me she has a small amount of magic, and can summon items and make them disappear. I haven’t seen her do that for a while. Perhaps it’s because she’s familiar with the palace.

Along the right side, tall shelves are crammed with books that are covered in a thick layer of dust.

Hector nears the only other set of doors in this space, placing both hands on the handles. “Welcome home, Your Majesty.”

His easy use of my title doesn’t feel natural yet. Like I’m wearing shoes that are slightly too big, and threaten to fall off if I try to move too fast.

He pushes them wide, throwing a century’s worth of stagnant dust mites into the path of the fading sun that pours in through the window. Singular.