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The worry ate at me.

I tried to fill the ache with food—delicious pastries, creamy pasta, wine. No luck.

As for my other usual standby for dulling my emotions… Arran had been busy with arrangements for our departure. As had I. If that kept him from my bed, even as the aching need of the bond in our chests grew steadily more demanding… at least I didn’t have to examinethoseemotions as well.

Arran didn’t argue when we discussed who would come with us to the human realm and who would stay behind in Baylaur. Our entire Round Table was uncharacteristically quiet.

Afraid of me.

I was afraid of myself.

Gwen and Parys would remain in Baylaur. Between her menace and wisdom, his smooth talking and slyness, I knew they’d manage. I had to trust that they would.

As Esa had so presciently pointed out months ago, when Arran and I listened to her treachery from the balcony trying to find the traitors in our midst—kingdoms had long been left in the care of the royal council while their monarchs led the charge on the battlefield.

The royal council was either dead or deposed.

Good riddance.

With Elora in command of the elemental armies—Arran was confident in her skill—it would be enough. It had to be enough.

Whatever threats might emerge against Annwyn in my absence… none were as great as the one I posed, simply walking through the corridors of the goldstone palace.

If Arran and everyone else were right, and I must train this power, I would do it in the human realm. Far away from my subjects.

They’d seen my explosion of power in the throne room. They’d seen me return—mostly unharmed.

It would have to be enough.

Please let it be enough.

Because if Parys was right, and I was the queen from the Void Prophecy… then the rest of the prophecy must be true as well.When shadows cast doubt upon the realm.

Those shadows were coming for Annwyn, and I must be ready.

27

ARRAN

In the end, we left without ceremony.

Everyone knew the High King and Queen were leaving Baylaur. But they did not know where. They did not know why.

A visit to the terrestrial kingdom—that was what Parys whispered to the courtiers as he sipped from the aural fountain. To the Split Sea, others supposed—to address the disappearances that had first been brought before us by Gawayn’s brothers. I had to believe that Gwen and Parys would manage things in our absence.

There was no way that I would let Veyka go alone.

Baylaur could crumble to dust before I would let my mate walk into danger without me by her side.

Lyrena still wore her Goldstones uniform, having added the straps of her traveling packs right over the top. Osheen looked much the same as he had during the journey to Baylaur months ago. I assumed I did as well. The same bedroll, the same traveling pack, the same leather vest and trousers. The only difference was the linen tunic beneath, the style I’d taken to wearing in the heat of Baylaur. My wool layers were tucked into my pack.

Would the seasons in the human realm mirror ours? The humans had never mattered enough for me to find out.

Parys had handed me an entire written report—because I still struggled to listen to the male speak for a prolonged period of time without wanting to relieve him of his favorite parts.

That was fine; I’d read them in camp tonight. I’d read enough reports in my lifetime as a battle commander to fill that entire blasted library built into the side of the mountain.

We waited just outside the massive doors of the goldstone palace, the same ones I’d entered through with my delegation—before cutting off Evander’s arm. No more news had come from the Split Sea; Parys and Gwen would have to deal with that as well.

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