After a while, I am desperate to get my rest, I even try the never-helping method of counting sheep, but the unmerciful sleep avoids me.
I shift my position a thousand times. Shit, I even try to empty my mind, brushing away the trashy thoughts, only to become obsessed with them instead. No wonder I’m so bad at meditating. There’s no winning against the constant monologue in my head.
I’m fucking terrified I’m not enough. I’m almost certain Gorok will create another High Queen’s line if I fail… if I die.
The thought slams into me and my whole body twists with it. My fingers clench around the edge of the bedroll, nails digging into the fabric. My chest tightens, a slow, bruising pressure thatmakes it hard to breathe. My legs tense beneath the blankets, bracing for a blow that hasn’t landed.
And gods, I want to drown these thoughts in something strong. Anything. But I don’t have a drop of it.
That’s the worst part: this bloody journey forces me to stay sober, and my mind won’t stop attacking me. Every thought hits sharper, cleaner, with nothing to dull the edges.
I don’t deserve the throne after what I’ve done.
The words coil in my stomach, heavy and acidic. I curl onto my side, dragging my knees up as if I can hold myself together with sheer force. A tremor runs through me, small but biting, and I stare into the darkness above, wishing it would swallow these thoughts I can’t outrun.
“Have you killed them on purpose?”Aidon’s voice echoes in my head, uninvited and far too clear. His nudge on my arm makes it obvious he’s watching me.
You’re too loud.
I am not.
Have you?he presses, as if it’s the most reasonable question in the world.
Have I what?I snap, twisting to face him. He’s stretched out beside me, eyes fixed on the sky as if none of this matters.
He nudges me again.
Have you killed them on purpose?he asks, still refusing to look away from the stars.
“Of course not!” I holler and immediately wince. Too loud.
They’re asleep,Aidon reassures me, then jerks my arm.
“Stop!” I hiss, my voice cutting through the air. Applause for some resemblance of control is going to me—the Deadbeat Queen.
“Have you wished them harm in any way?” He asks, loudly. This time, his scarlet gaze pierces me, penetrating my mind, literally. His forehead wrinkled.
“Of course I haven’t, I never would,” I whisper.
I would die myself if Gorok let me sacrifice myself for them, but he didn’t. I’ve tried. Over and over. I spent weeks in his temple, asking for death. I wallowed on a cliff, screaming his name. Begging. He left me unanswered.
Every single time.
The painful memory sucks me in, and I have no time to stop the private pictures from surfacing at the top of my mind.
I balance on the edge of the cliff. Gusts of wind nearly knock me off.
I croak, my throat raw from begging, but the only reply is the heavy rain soaking me.
I am ready. I won’t run anymore. I am ready to surrender.
A single step—half my foot already in the air. Tears pour like the storm around me, clouding my sight.
I take a shallow, hiccuping breath and ride the panic, the adrenaline, deepening the step.
The wind claws at me, and I stop fighting.
Soon. My heart slows, knowing it won’t be needed any longer.
