I glance at Fenris one more time before Raiden leads him out of the room. I don’t need Raiden to fight this fight for me. I’ll earn Fenris’s trust, but more importantly, I’ll earn his respect.
Raiden strides back over, his footsteps echoing through the room, and closes the door with a resounding thud, pinning Valric with an intense glare. “How did you get into the castle?”
Chapter eight
Everly
“It’s quite easy to get into the palace. I can tell you all your weak points in exchange for immunity,” Valric offers, taking a seat at the table. He reaches into the bowl of fruit, snatching up a red apple and taking a bite.
Raiden glares at the leader of the Outcasts with disdain. “I don’t trust you.”
“Well, you should. Princess Vera is my only concern, her safety is top priority.”
I stare at my old paladin and wish for the millionth time I could regain all my memories. My mother definitely hid them well. I’ve only had flashes here and there of my old life, but I want to remember it all.
“I want you to train me again,” I blurt out, unable to hold it in any longer. The urgency in my voice surprises even me. If I have any hope of getting Maxon back, I need to be stronger. I won’t be a liability, not again.
“My magic only really shows itself when I’m emotional, and even then, I don’t understand how I’m controlling it. I need to understand it.”
Valric studies me for a moment, his expression thoughtful, before he speaks. “You always did let your emotions rule you. It’s both your greatest strength and your weakness.” His words aren’t harsh, but they’re honest—blunt, even.
I swallow hard and meet his gaze. “Will you help me?”
I need him to say yes.
A smile tugs at the corner of Valric’s lips, and he nods. “Of course, Princess.”
I exhale, dipping my head in gratitude, but before I can thank him, he adds, “On one condition.”
My heart skips a beat, and I look up, confusion and trepidation swirling in my chest. “What condition?”
“If you take your rightful place as our queen.” His expression is resolute. “Bring the Outcasts home.”
Everything in me stills. Then the air leaves my lungs in a rush.
“What?” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper. This is not what I expected.
Valric’s gaze remains steady, unwavering. “Because it’s your rightful place. Your people have been waiting for your return, Everly.”
The weight of his words crashes down on me like a tidal wave. How could I possibly take on such a role right now? Plus, I’m Maxon’s mate—his queen, or I will be, though it’s not official yet. But what Valric is suggesting . . . If I were to take up the mantle of queen for my own people, what would that mean? Would the two kingdoms merge? How would it even work?
My head spins with a thousand questions, each one more complicated than the last. The politics, the responsibilities—I know nothing of how to rule.
“I . . . ” My voice falters, my thoughts scrambling for some sort of clarity. “But Maxon . . . ”
Valric’s expression softens, but there’s a firmness in his voice when he clarifies, “You can be both. The queen of your people, and his. It’s time for you to embrace all that you are, Everly.”
I stare at him, my mind reeling. Can I really do this? My attention shifts to Raiden, who stands a few feet away with his arms crossed, a scowl stretched across his face. But when he notices me looking, his silver eyes soften, the hard lines of his expression easing just slightly.
“It’s up to you, Princess.” His voice remains low and steady, like he’s offering me a lifeline—no pressure, just quiet support.
I try to clear my throat. My gaze flicks back to Valric, who is casually munching on his apple like this conversation isn’t reshaping the entire trajectory of my life.
“Okay,” I finally breathe, the word barely making it past my lips. But it’s out there now, spoken into existence. My hands reach for Nymeria, my fingers sinking into the fur at her nape, and the sensation calms me.
Valric grins, his teeth flashing. “Excellent. We’ll discuss the coronation after the funeral processions,” he says nonchalantly, like it’s a perfectly normal thing to toss out amidst plans of a royal funeral. But his words send a cold jolt of reality through me.
Funerals. My heart sinks, the reminder hitting harder than I expected.
