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“It should be a sad song,” I muttered. Every time I heard those notes, they’d cling to me for days, turning my mood sour as I remembered all we had lost. Every vibrato and dip, every pause and crescendoed note was a mocking sound that haunted me over and over.
“Theywerehappy though,” Briar said, leaning against the balcony door. “They had happiness for a long time before Sawyn returned.”
“Which only makes it more cruel.” I leaned back on my hands, my eyes following the lines of smoke as they blurred into the clouds. “Why did Sawyn wait so many years after father broke the sleeping curse to return? Why didn’t she just retaliate instantly?”
“She’s filled with dark magic,” Briar said, as if that could excuse everything. “Who knows what that twisted power does to a person? Maybe she needed time to regain her strength. Maybe that compulsion for violence builds slowly, festering over years.”
“But—”
“No one knows, Calla,” Briar snapped, clearly getting frustrated. “How many centuries has it been since the last sorcerer? We don’t even know what compelled her to turn toward the darkness in the first place. The only people who might’ve known are long dead.”
I twisted around to look at Briar. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes wide, as if she, too, had wondered about these things.But Briar had the good sense to hide it. Before the rise of Sawyn, monsters and sorcerers were myths of the past—things that didn’t exist in the world anymore. We knew little about Sawyn. There wasn’t a single note of where she came from or who she killed to turn herself into a sorceress.
That was where the dark took hold: the first kill. It was a teetering precipice anyone who killed could fall into, one that soldiers trained to withstand. Those with enough of it in their souls could turn just as we could turn into Wolves. It was a one-way shift, a magical change, that the world knew little about. Lean into the darkness and forever be consumed.
Sawyn had been swallowed whole, and then turned her dark hunger on my family, my pack, my kingdom.
Why, why, why?
The strings started playing again and I was relieved it was a different tune. Even so, the brand of “The Sleeping Queen”burned into me. I was glad I didn’t have to hear those final sweeping notes, but the lyrics looped over and over in my mind, replaying before reaching the final refrain—the happy ending that never came.
I lounged on my sister’s bed, a bowl of candied almonds tucked beside me, as I watched the seamstresses fit Briar into her wedding dress. Briar’s room took up an entire wing of the palace. As her personal guard, I had been appointed a room within the wing, connected through an internal door to her bedchamber.
Sumptuous jewel-toned fabrics decorated my sister’s suite. The wealth of Damrienn was clear from the silver-framed mirrors to the gem-studded jewelry box on the mantel. It was decadent and, compared to what I had lived with my entire life, ostentatious. I reminded myself again, though, that with these fanciful riches also came an army of Silver Wolves, who would help reclaim our kingdom.
With only a moment to splash water on our faces, a teamof dressmakers had arrived at Briar’s door. It had been a long journey to Highwick and, though I’d slept, I’d hoped we’d get some rest. It hadn’t dawned on me the wedding would be the moment we arrived. And now the evening was nearing, and the ceremony would take place at exactly midnight—the time of our birth. Symbolically it made sense. And the more I thought about it, politically, too. A good warrior should be prepared for an ambush, and I had totally missed this one.
Not that it mattered all that much—it was inevitable, so better to get it over with. Instead of dwelling on it, I thought about what midnight would bring. I loved that Briar and I had different birthdays even though we were only born minutes apart. Today Briar was twenty years old and tomorrow I would be, too. We each had a full day to be celebrated by Vellia as children, and I realized this was going to be my first birthday without her. The faery’s absence hit me anew.
“Ouch.” Briar frowned down at the seamstress prodding her with needles.
The seamstress merely rolled her eyes, not the least bit apologetic.
“Stay still,” I called, chuckling at her squirming.
“I am,” Briar growled, eyeing me in the full-length mirror. “Shouldn’t you be getting fitted, too?”
“They left a very fine silver jacket hanging in my wardrobe.” I shrugged. “And a ceremonial sash to match the other guards.”
“I think you look better in gold.” Briar always had a better sense for clothes. I was happy to let her pick my attire often and let her mold the image of myself.
“I’ll wear what they tell me.” My voice fell into a murmur. “Since I’m a guard of Damrienn now...”
My sister paused, watching my reflection. “Could you give us a moment?” she asked the two women pinning the hem of her dress.
They rolled their eyes but nodded as if used to being dismissed by royalty.
“Just don’t sit down,” the one with pins in her mouth muttered. “We’ll be back.”
“Ten minutes,” the other said and shut the door behind them.
Briar hiked up her flowing lace skirts and stepped off her pedestal. She looked like a painting of the Moon Goddess, billowing white and silver skirts that cinched in at her narrowed waist, long lace sleeves, V-shaped neckline, and silver buttons down her back. Once the crown waiting for her was on her head, she’d be the perfect picture of a queen.
“You look gorgeous, Briar,” I said, stuffing another almond into my cheek, trying to let the act of chewing relieve how tightly I clenched my jaw. “I wish our parents were here to see it.”
Briar sighed. “I wish they were here, too.” She walked around the bed and put her hand on my forearm. “I’m sorry the King didn’t announce who you were straight away. Maybe he’s waiting until after the ceremony?” Her worried thoughts mirrored my own. “Once I’m married to Grae, it will solidify his claim to Olmdere... he’ll probably share the news then.”
“We’ll see.”
