It was enough that they didn’t try to kill each other for a change. I clutched my mother’s ring in my hand, continuing toward the palace.
The Unseelie were politely removed, though not outright hostile, but the soldiers and villagers who had emerged to help with the wounded all bowed deeply as we passed. Which felt strange when we were both still covered in blood and monster tar.
I felt nothing at all like a queen.
I just felt like an exhausted fae who needed a shower and a very long nap and perhaps a bottle of whiskey to chase away the images of a falling, charred body that chased me every time I closed my eyes.
My limbs shook as I mounted the steps to the palace, Draven half-dragging me up the stairs.
Since I had poured my mana into the earth, I could feel the way we were all connected now. Me, Draven, the land, all drawing from the same river of power for the Winter mana. Though Draven hadn’t precisely returned what he took, neither had the land stolen mana from me as much as it had used the temporary influx to restore the balance of Winter.
But since the land needed that power the most right now, neither Draven nor I had replenished our stores. My husband couldn’t even icewalk us back to the palace. At this rate, he might even have to open the door by hand, if he knew how to work a doorknob.
I heard that.
A ghost of a smile tilted my lips.That wasn’t an answer.
Before he could respond, I heard the telltale tapping of a staff against the frozen ground.
Nevara.
I hadn’t seen her since the battle, but I should have guessed that she would find us before we could find her. Maybe I would have considered that if there wasn’t some faraway piece of me that wasn’t quite ready to face her yet… which was ridiculous after the weeks I had spent begging her to wake up.
Still, I forced myself to spin toward her.
Like the rest of us, she was coated in blood and blackened bits of monster, covered in scrapes and blossoming bruises that were evident under the ripped fabric of her gown. The braids Mirelda had artfully arranged were half undone, falling haphazardly into her face.
Her starlit eyes were still, her ethereal features calm, but there was a tightness in her shoulders, evident even beneath the weariness tugging at her, like she knew exactly how hard it had been for me to turn around.
“Soren?” I asked, for lack of something better to say.
“Lady Noerwyn has put him to work, cauterizing wounds.”
Faint amusement emanated from Draven at my side, but I couldn’t find it in me to react to that at all, so fixed on the still faintly-shimmering form before me.
What was I supposed to say?
Thank you for saving the day, saving me and my husband, even though I know you probably saw that I would be an orphan by the time this was done?
I squeezed my eyes shut, taking in a breath.
“Was this it?” I asked quietly. “The only way you could See?”
She nodded sadly, and I shook my head.
What would I have done in her place?
None of it was fair, the impossible choices she had been given, a role and a vow that had been forced on her before she understood how they would weigh on her soul.
I reached out to take her blood-covered hand in mine.
“Thank you. For waking up to save us.”
Her mouth pressed into a thin line, like she heard everything I hadn’t said. “I couldn’t save everyone.”
I let out a huff of air. “It’s not your job to save everyone, Nevara. We all do the best we can with the choices we’re given.”
Her lips parted, and I wondered if anyone had ever said that to her before, had ever absolved her of the responsibility that had been carelessly thrust on the shoulders of a child.
