Zaria takes her place between Kian and Tristan as Raiden, flanked by five other soldiers, walk with solemn purpose toward the ornate cart brimming with flowers. Their faces are set, expressions stoic and unyielding. The cart is a burst of color andbeauty, seeming almost at odds with the weight of the occasion, but somehow fitting—a final tribute for Lavina.
The sky has darkened fully now, a deep, pitch-black void empty of stars, with no moon to offer even the faintest glimmer of light. It is as if the heavens themselves mourn her passing. A low wind sweeps through the trees, carrying with it an icy chill that cuts to the bone.
Raiden and his soldiers take their places by the cart, then the entire procession begins to sing, their voices rising in a mournful, chilling harmony.
The song echoes across the ground, the haunting melody slipping into the empty spaces around us. It’s a sound that seems to come from the depths of the earth, raw and ancient, reverberating against the trees.
Images flicker in my mind, my mother and other druids dancing around a fire. A fire that burns tall and bright as if reaching for the heavens, and their singing lulling me to sleep. My mouth opens, and I begin to sing with the rest of the procession, the words once forgotten pouring out of me and into the open air.
Once it’s all over, everyone turns as one, walking in the direction of the cliffs. Kian pats my arm and tilts his head in that direction.
“We need to follow,” he whispers.
I linger at the back, content to keep my distance. Maxon’s warm violet eyes fill my mind, and I sigh, wishing more than anything that he was here, his arms around me. But with every step forward, the ache of his absence deepens. It’s only been five days since he was taken, since the battle that left Skora in ruins, but it feels like an eternity.
Suddenly, a gust of wind tears through the procession, forceful and unexpected. It tugs at my clothes, nearly making me stumble. Kian’s arm tightens around mine, steadying me, and I focus forward, eyes widening as we reach the cliffs.
“Oh my god,” I whisper, breath stolen by the sight. The bright, fiery red leaves from the towering trees float on the wind, swirling like embers against the dark sky. They drift toward the cliffs, carried upward before disappearing over the edge, mingling with the gray-blue waves crashing far below. The ritual of farewell feels final as the last leaf vanishes from sight, and slowly, the fae around me start to turn, heading back toward the horses and carriages.
As we pause, a sharp pain blooms in my cheek, radiating through my jaw and up into my ear. The dull, rhythmic pulse at the base of my neck throbs in time with my heartbeat. I wince, reaching up to rub my cheek.
Kian’s gaze sharpens as he glances down. “Are you okay?” His steps slow to match mine.
“Just a headache,” I murmur, trying to shake it off.
“A headache?” He doesn’t sound convinced.
I let out a low moan, my eyes falling shut for a brief moment, hoping the throbbing will ease.
Kian’s voice softens with concern. “That’s not normal. We should see a healer.”
“Don’t be silly,” I wave off the concern, forcing a small smile. “I’m fine.”
As we approach the line of carriages, my steps slow, attention drawn to the large, dark blue tent set up further away from the road. Banners flap softly in the breeze, bearing our coat of arms.
“What’s that?” I inquire, looking back at Kian.
He inclines his head. “That, Princess, is for the feast—reserved for nobility only. A chance for you to rest and refuel for the ride back.”
I frown, casting a quick glance around as I notice commoners already beginning to gather belongings, dispersing into small clusters to start the journey back on foot.
“It seems a little unfair. Shouldn’t everyone have the chance to eat?”
Kian shrugs, unconcerned. “It’s just how it is.”
“But it shouldn’t be.” I frown at his lack of compassion.
The throb in my jaw makes itself known again, and I grimace.
Before he can respond, a familiar figure steps up beside me. “Are you all right?” Tristan’s violet eyes catch mine, assessing.
“Yes,” I answer quickly.
“She’s got a headache,” Kian cuts in, “and she keeps rubbing her cheek.” He gestures to me in a way that draws Tristan’s scrutiny immediately.
I shoot Kian a pointed look, folding my arms over my chest. “I said I’m fine.” My eyes move over the crowd that’s dispersing, and a frown pulls at my lips. “Where’s Zaria?”
Tristan’s gaze lingers a moment longer, suspicious. “Raiden took her to the carriage.”
