I gave myself the hour. Sixty minutes to fall completely apart, to scream and rage in that empty room. To feel everything I’d been holding back in the name of survival and leadership and not scaring the people who needed me to be strong.
Then I stood up, wiped my face, and became whatever the realm needed.
When I returned to the chamber, the survivors had organized themselves into something resembling order. Bodies had been moved to one side, covered with whatever cloth could be found. The wounded were being tended by Eltrien and the few other healers who’d survived. Someone had even started trying to clear the debris, though the task was enormous.
They all stopped when they saw me. Waiting. Watching.
“The Bloom has scattered,” I said, with authority I didn’t feel—and would fake until it became real. “The Crown has fallen. Auradelle has been transformed into part of his own apparatus—fitting justice for someone who treated people like tools.”
A few bitter laughs at that.
“Every petty noble with ambition is going to try to claim power in the chaos. We’re not going to let that happen.”
“What are you suggesting?” Thrak asked.
“I’m suggesting we make sure Elle has a realm worth coming back to.” I looked at each of them—rebels, former guards, my crew, strangers who’d become allies. “The Bloom scattered because Elle freed it. That power belongs to everyone now, or no one. We’re going to make sure it stays that way. No more central control. No more magical monarchy.”
“That’s chaos,” someone protested.
“Good,” I replied. “Order gave us Auradelle. Structure gave us the Crown. Maybe chaos will give us something better.”
“Or maybe it gives us warlords and petty tyrants fighting over scraps,” the same voice countered.
“Then we stop them. We build something new. Not a kingdom—a coalition. Not rulers—guardians.” I was making this up as I went, but it felt right. Felt like something Elle would have wanted. “The Bloom is free. The realm is free. We keep it that way.”
Bryx laughed, slightly hysterical but genuine. “He’s got a point. Can’t be worse than what we had.”
“Sarnyx, Vashael—secure the perimeter. Nimor, scout the ruins for survivors and supplies. Bryx, Kevin—take aerial reconnaissance. I want toknow what’s happening in the settlements.”
They dispersed without question, grateful for direction, for purpose. Only Peeble remained, hovering near my shoulder with exhaustion evident in their dimmed shell.
“She actually did it,” they said quietly, the echo of the first Elle speaking through them.
“You knew she would.”
“I hoped. There’s a difference.” They landed on my shoulder, weighing almost nothing. “I can feel her, you know. All the versions of her, past and future and never-were. She’s learning things no one was meant to know. Seeing the truth behind the Root and Bloom’s separation. Understanding why we’ve been trapped.”
“Will it change her?”
Peeble was quiet for a long moment. “Yes. She’s spanning timelines—learning what no one should. When she comes back—ifshe comes back—she’ll be more than she was. More than anyone has ever been.”
“But still Elle?”
“I think so. Hope so.” They shifted on my shoulder. “But Kaelren—you need to understand that bringing herself back to a single moment, a single timeline, might be the hardest thing she’s ever done. Right now, she exists everywhere. Condensing all of that into onenow… it might be impossible. Or it might take longer than any of us can imagine.”
“Then I’ll wait.” I touched the locket around my neck. “However long it takes.”
“Even if it’s forever?”
“Especially then.”
40
Epilogue
I have met him seventeen times.
He never remembers first, not the first look or the first ache. Sometimes he kills me before he knows why he can’t. Sometimes I die loving him anyway. Once—just once—we lived long enough to grow old, and the world died instead, resetting while we held each other in the ashes.
