“It’s all right,” Micah whispers and gently pulls me back from the dais.
I shake within his arms, unable to look away from Kyron.
“I’m fine, just dizzy, Lance,” the prince says, stumbling back a couple of steps and holding his palm out to ward off his guard.
Esmeray looks me up and down and cocks a sculpted eyebrow. “I’ve never seen anyone wield the Eporri like that, not even our mightygrandfather. It’s a shame you choose to stay with Micah when you could rule as queen for a greater kingdom.” She tilts her head toward Kyron. “Not to mention that you would be with your parah. It must be agonizing to be apart from him.”
Anger replaces my concern, and I force a smile. “I haven’t given your son much thought, but I’ll confess that I missed having control of his power. It bends so willingly to me,” I say, matching the queen’s bravado. “Besides, I’ve made a promise to wed, and I intend to keep it.” I glare at Kyron. “I don’t betray those who place their faith in me.”
The queen clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Just know that as long as my son wants you, my offer stands.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” I say.
Kyron flinches. The reaction is so quick that I question if I saw it correctly. He eases his hands into his pockets, and his features return to a cool indifference. If he can pretend that what he has done doesn’t matter, so can I.
Looping my arm through Micah’s, I say, “I’m ready to return home, Your Majesty.”
Micah turns to Kyron and says, “I hope one day you will serve your kingdom better than your mother has.”
His jaw flexes in another tiny sign that he’s bothered and he replies, “I assure you that her influence will guide my every decision for Stigian.”
“That is a shame to hear,” Micah mutters and leads me down the aisle toward the exit.
The Divine Sibyl’s voice echoes from behind us. “I present unto you, the future sovereign of Stigian. May he rule with a pure heart, a just hand, a wise mind, and be the embodiment of the Statera’s immaculate balance.”
The gathered crowd responds in unison, “Blessed be Kyron, the prince of Stigian.”
I don’t need to turn back to know that the Sibyl places a crown upon Kyron’s head, solidifying him as my rival and making our chances of ever reconciling non-existent.
My father and Zek, who have waited at the back of the sanctuary, fall in line, flanking Micah and me. The moment we make it out the door and descend the front steps, the weight of what happened inside bears down on me. My knees buckle and I grip the side of the carriage as I dry heave.
“I’m so proud of you, Raelle,” my father says, rubbing his handalong my spine. “I know that wasn’t easy.”
Tears I didn’t even think I had left for Kyron pool to the surface and run down my cheeks. It was all too much, seeing him, feeling his power, touching his skin. I turn around and bury my face against my father’s chest. “I knew it would hurt, Papa, but not this bad.”
My father comforts me with gentle words as I sob, and then his hand stops moving on my back, and he falls silent. I lift my head and follow his gaze over my shoulder. My heart stops and my breath hitches.
Kyron stands behind me with his hands shoved in his pockets and his new ostentatious crown resting across his brow. “Can I talk with you for a moment?” he asks.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Micah says with a clipped tone.
Kyron ignores his uncle and remains focused on me. “Please, Raelle.”
I look to my father for guidance. He once stood firm in his faith for Kyron, believing that there was a greater unseen purpose in his choice to betray us. But time has diminished his trust and even he questions if Kyron’s intentions were for nothing more than a crown.
“It’s up to you. We’re in no hurry if this is what you want,” he says, brushing his knuckle over my wet cheek.
Micah scoffs, overridden by a father doing what he knows is best for his child.
I turn to Kyron and cling to the queen Borin molded me to be. “You and I had our final words. We said them that night in the catacombs. You don’t regret your decision, and I can’t forgive you for it. Nothing has changed.”
“Sounds like that sums it up,” Zek snaps.
Kyron shoots him a glare as a massive guard steps forward to protect the prince. Zek leans against the back corner of the carriage, crosses his arms, and cocks a brow, goading the prince on. Kyron’s lip curls in a snarl and he shakes his head before turning back to me. He wraps his fingers around my arm and guides me away from the watchful eyes of my entourage. “Can I have a few minutes alone with you, please?”
I pull from his hold, saying, “I don’t?—”
A blast of scorching heat blazes past me, and I’m thrown to the ground with a heavy body on top of me. The ringing in my ear muffles barked orders, and all I can think about is the last thing I saw—Kyron flying through the air.
