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“I will continue to give you the respect your title deserves.”

“I’m not the queen.”

“Not as recognized by Vylheim, but you should be. I have to confess, it is why I prayed to the fates that they wouldn’t capture you in West Anglor.” He spoke softly but urgently, each word crisp and colliding as they tumbled out of him. “It’s why I searched the shore for you and did whatever I could to keep you safe. Because you’re Drak’s wife, but also because you’re my queen.”

“Axel—” My nature was to argue this. I was Drak’s queen, and his lap was my throne, but that was in the playfulness of our privacy. Never had I wanted a life at the court of Mara’s Keep. Farming, weaving, training as a shield maiden, storytelling—all the simple things in this life were my calling until the gods damned me to a fate of hunting vampires.

I had Drak and myself to thank for thwarting that fate.

“You’re the only one who can take back the throne,” he said.

My heart skipped. “What do you mean?”

Skin crinkled at his eyes when he forced a grim smile. “The one throne of Vylheim holds destiny for those who sit upon it with witnesses.” My brow furrowed. That couldn’t be true. Drak made his own way by killing King Roderic and taking the throne for himself. This magic, or destiny, was malleable, if it existed at all. Believing this quiet rumor was once treasonous since magic was akin to witches, and witches weren’t supposed to exist at all. Given how Drak ascended to the throne, I never doubted the validity of these rumors. Axel licked his lips and continued, ever steady in his determination. “Without Drak, you are our only chance at dethroning Silver. You’re the only other person alive who has sat on that throne except Silver.”

Except I hadn’t. I’d been in Drak’s lap while he sat in it, but I never once took my right as queen to sit upon it. My stomach dropped.

I looked back at the waves, shaking my head. Ships bobbed in the darkness like long shadows sailing through an endless ether. “I haven’t sat on it, and it doesn’t matter because that can’t be true. Drak would have informed me of this magic so I could demonstrate my worthiness as queen. We were willing to do anything at the time to provide proof.”

“Drak didn’t know.”

I flicked my eyes back to him. There was no fuss in the straightforward way he spoke, nor in his unwavering gaze. Axel was telling the truth. I felt it in my bones.

I shook my head. “Drak knew everything about that throne⁠—”

“It is a recent vision from his mother. Before Silver sent us ashore, I was watching over Ingrid, and then the Grimward separated us.”

“A new prophecy?”

“Not exactly. Loki made the throne a long time ago for the first vampire who ruled Vylheim, King Jari. Ingrid’s knowledge only just made sense of it since she shifted her focus to the future of our kingdom. The throne is at the center of this future, thanks to Loki’s tricks. There is much of this world that we don’t understand, my Queen. Too many sagas for one person to read unless they’ve dedicated a lifetime to it.”

My lips parted as Ingrid’s words came back to me: you should be queen. You must sit on the one throne. How much did I still not understand? What secrets did Silver learn in Mara’s Keep that I never discovered?

It didn’t matter how much I read from the library Drak had built me in Mara’s Keep; it was never enough. Hundreds of historical accounts and sagas remained unknown to me, not to mention knowledge from the visions of great seers like Ingrid.

My skin prickled with the feeling of being watched. The Grimward were still celebrating their spoils, their human spoils, but one of them broke away from the group, and I sensed her eyes on me as I tried to process what Axel had said.

“I don’t understand.” I shook my head. “She saw a fate for the throne? An object?” My mother had a vision for my father’s sword, that he’d use it to become Vyl of Old Skaldir, but that wasn’t the fate of a kingdom, simply that he’d use the weapon to cut down the current, cruel Vyl and take his place. And then my father proved just as cruel in the role…

Axel nodded. “Only those who have previously sat upon the throne have ever claimed it. Taking place on the throne itself, then earns the right to be crowned. This tradition will continue for the future rulers of Vylheim as it has for all those before, even if they weren’t aware of how it worked. That is the ancient prophecy, called The Iron Prophecy, as Ingrid’s vision was able to parse it. She claimed her husband, Drak’s father, had once read of it in the sagas as well, but she never knew the extent of it until her vision.” His eyes glimmered with something else. A secret. I recognized the look of keeping something buried within because I’d lied so often throughout my life.

“There’s more to it,” I said. The approaching figure picked her way through the packed rows of captives and witches and the Grimward. Breath stalled in my throat.

Axel nodded once. “Yes, that is where Loki comes in. The throne is crafted from the same material as Mjolnir, hence the name The Iron Prophecy. Just as Mjolnir was forged from iron.”

“Thor’s hammer?”

He hummed low. “Designed by dwarves. That is what Ingrid saw. Loki had it created to claim some control over Odin’s chosen people. As you know, Loki has always found ways to thwart Odin’s power and reach. Even if Loki was entertained by the mass murder of vampires, he gave the vampire kings a throne that blocked Odin from seeing them.” How had I never heard this before? I loved the sagas. There was a time when I adored the gods, and I was willing to go to great lengths to understand every account of their mysterious and intimidating behaviors. “Only Ingrid and I knew of this. She had the vision after you and Drak left for Yggdrasil. I wanted to tell you then, but Silver kept me locked away until the executioners dragged me out to sea. Ingrid’s prophecies have all come true before.”

Right, Drak’s mother was one of the most powerful seers ever known. Why she wasn’t kept safely back on the ships and was forced to fight at West Anglor, I didn’t know. Unless it was simply because she’d forever be loyal to Drak, and that loyalty disrespected Silver’s role as queen. Knowing my sister, that had to be the reason. Silver wanted Ingrid to die at West Anglor.

I licked my lips as I considered how to word this carefully. “Ingrid’s mind, though…the madness,” I paused because I didn’t want to suggest that what Axel believed might be nonsense.

He nodded in acknowledgment, and as he spoke, I tracked Raven and her partner out of the corner of my eye. “She was having lucid moments more often, even before you and Drak left for the wasteland. This vision came to her after two days of mental clarity. I witnessed her experiencing the vision myself; she spoke in an almost…gleeful…male voice.” Loki. It had to be him speaking through her. Hel, poor Ingrid. I remembered what it was like to have his laugh echo throughout your skull with no escape until Yggdrasil burned and the gods were forced out. “During the trance, she recited the names of all the kings featured in the sagas, tracing their lineage back nearly a thousand years. It's impossible she remembered all those names, having not seen the sagas or records in over a decade.”

“So you’re certain?” I asked. Though I recalled a saga mentioning the importance of sitting upon the throne, I still wanted to hear him confirm that this was true prophecy and magic from the gods.

“Never more so.” When Axel relayed information, he was always careful to be sure it was absolutely accurate. Drak had trusted him with his life, so I did, too, and this claim matched‌ the last words Ingrid had said to me before we were separated at Einnland’s shore just ten days ago.