“Lanneth?”The smoke shifts, hovering over Ashen, a tendril brushing over him almost like a caress.
“The queen,” I mumble, barely coherent.
“Lanneth isnotthe queen,” the ghost says, its voice firm and unnerving in its certainty.“Veloria is queen.”
I drift between sleep and consciousness, the ghost's words echoing faintly in my ears, hollow and distant. “No… Veloria passed after Daed was born,” I murmur, slipping closer to sleep's edge. “Lanneth is queen now.”
“What…”
The room shifts, the temperature plummeting so fast my breath turns to mist, hanging in the freezing air. I shiverviolently, clutching the covers tighter against me, my skin prickling from the sudden cold. My eyelids flutter, teeth chattering, as I watch the ghost by the fire stretch and expand—a wall of dark smoke that looms ever larger. Ashen hisses, leaping from the chair, scurrying across the room as the ghost’s presence swells, its smoke extinguishing the fire in a smothering wave of darkness.
“She is not dead. She cannot be dead. You lie.”
I bolt upright, fully awake now, my body trembling beneath the suffocating cold. The ghost grows, its smoky tendrils snaking across the bed, sweeping over the covers until I feel its weight pressing me back against the headboard. I gasp as its icy touch sears into my skin, the cold burning like fire.
“Who told you this lie?”the ghost demands, its voice a growl of rage.
“Daedalus,” I rasp, my voice barely a whisper as I struggle against the pain throbbing in my head.
For a moment, the ghost is silent, its presence vibrating in the air, the only sound a low, hollow hum that fills the room.
“Yes,”it finally gasps.“I remember now. I remember the day she died. I remember the day Daedalus killed her.”
I shake my head, remembering our time in the forest and the tragedy he shared with me, one that has haunted him his entire life. “He didn’t. That is not what happened.”
“You speak as if you were there, that you saw it, that you watched her die.”
“A mother dying in childbirth is not the fault of the child,” I say sternly, defending Daed’s suffering.
“Is that what he told you?”There is a cruel mocking tone to the ghost’s hollow voice that knots my stomach.“He is lying.”
“You are lying,” I snap. “That can’t be true.”
“I linger. I forget. But I do not lie. I was there.”
The smoke travels over my body, sliding like cold silk across my shoulders, down my chest, until it pins me flat against the bed, its weight crushing down on me. My lungs scream for air as it presses into me harder, colder, until I can barely breathe. Then it reaches my belly, and without warning, it releases me. The smoke whips away, spiraling into a furious, howling wind, retreating to the far corner of the room.
“What have you done?”the ghost wails, its voice a desperate cry that reverberates through the room.“You have doomed us all.”
I don’t answer. I’m too busy gasping for air, my chest heaving, my skin branded with cold, red marks that sear with the memory of its touch.
“I told you to run,”the ghost laments, its voice cracking like distant thunder.“Why did you not run? Now it’s too late. You will die, just as she did.”The smoke dissipates, unraveling into wispy strands as it fades from view. Its last words hang in the air, chilling me deeper than the cold ever could.
“Daedalus will kill you, too.”
I’m not sure when I fell asleep again, but the next thing I know, morning light is filtering through the windows. My head throbs worse than ever, a dull, insistent ache that makes me wince as I sit up. Solena waits by the door, concern etched across her face.
“You slept through the night,” she says softly, coming to my side. “I checked on you like I promised. Not even the storm that hit before dawn woke you.”
I blink in confusion, trying to recall anything from the night—any memory of the thunderstorm. But it’s like a thick fog has settled over my mind, and I can’t remember a thing. Still, despite my exhaustion and the ghost’s lingering presence, one small comfort lifts my spirits.
Daed returns tomorrow.
I just have to make it through today. I won’t let the ghost’s words take root in my mind. It’s a creature of mischief, sent to torment me, nothing more. Daedalus might not be innocent, but killing his own mother? No. He couldn’t. I refuse to believe that. I couldn’t possibly care for a monster like that.
But as much as I try to push the ghost’s warning away, it lingers in the back of my mind, gnawing at my thoughts. I can’t avoid Lanneth either when I’m summoned to breakfast, and no matter how much bread I eat, nothing satisfies the gnawing hunger inside me, the constant drain of energy.
“The meat would make you feel better,” Lanneth sighs, feasting on her portion, delicate yet unbothered.
