Each smiling face brought a lightness to her heart, and she met them all with one of her own.
This.
These people.
Theywere the reason she would meet her cousin on the battlefield. Not her mother’s death. Not the attempt at stealing Daemon away. Not Caius’ need to be free of her. Sure, she wanted Davina to pay for what she’d done, buther peoplewere the only reason she needed to storm into battle. The only one that mattered.
Smoke billowed out of a chimney as they arrived at Master Demir’s workshop. Heat seeped from the open work area, bringing with it the smell of a crackling fire and the clang of a hammer as it beat metal into submission against an anvil.
“Master Demir?” Auraelia called out tentatively as she stepped into the space.
The hammer met steel once more before the blacksmith straightened, surprise coloring his features as his brows pushed upward and he met Auraelia’s gaze. “Your Majesty!”
He was covered in soot, his apron smooth and black from the years of work he put into his trade. He quickly bent at the waist, then straightened, placing his hammer on the nearest table before palming the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there. I tend to get lost in my work.”
Auraelia chuckled softly, then took another step inside. “It’s quite alright. I didn’t want to startle you and risk you mistaking your hand for the blade.” Her eyes flicked to the darkened metal that was lying across the workspace. “May I?”
“Of course. It is yours, after all.”
“Mine?” she asked excitedly. She’d commissioned him to make her a special blade, but she’d also stressed that the men in her army were top priority and hadn’t been sure if he would have had time to complete it before the new moon. But as Auraelia took measured steps across the floor, watching as the firelight caught and danced along the inlay, her breath caught in her throat.
“Now, it’s not quite finished, Your Majesty—”
Master Demir’s words faded into the background as she ran her fingers along the still-warm steel. It was beautiful. The blade was thin but strong, and even with the black coating the metal, she could still make out the intricate scrollwork etched into the top where it would join the hilt. But down the center, laid into the core of the blade itself, was a long shard of emerald; thedeep, rich hue glowing beneath the orange of the fire, bringing out the delicate veins that ran through the stone.
“It’s made to the same specifications as your current short sword, so it should fit within the same sheath, should you choose to carry one and not the other. But I will have a separate sheath for it as well so that you can wear one at your hip if you need to carry both.”
“It’s stunning,” she whispered, still so enraptured with the craftsmanship that she hadn’t noticed that Aiden and Master Demir had closed the distance.
A faint flush colored Demir’s cheeks when she met his gaze, but he cleared his throat and looked away, gesturing toward the back of the shop. “The new armor and weaponry are in the back if you’d like to see them.”
She pulled her gaze from the blade and nodded, following in Master Demir’s wake with Aiden close at her heels.
Auraelia ran the tips of her fingers along the smooth leaves of her mother’s peony bushes. A few seemed to cling to the idea of what they used to be, but the once colorful shrubs had been reduced to darkened hues of green and brown without a bud in sight. Letting out a breath, Auraelia sat on one of the stone benches and tilted her face toward the sky, the sun’s rays finally penetrating the dark clouds.
The sound of heavy, booted steps crunching on the gravel pulled her attention, but she kept her face upturned. “What is it?” she asked as the guard stopped a few feet away.
“Lady Blyana has arrived, Your Majesty.”
“JustLady Blyana?” Auraelia dropped her gaze to her guard, his throat bobbing around a swallow.
“Yes, Your Majesty.” He seemed nervous, though she wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was because he was new; maybe it was due to the slight sharpness of her tone. Either way, she gave him a small smile, hoping to put him a little at ease.
“Thank you. Would you escort her out here, please?”
Some of the tension seemed to evaporate as he released a breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. With a quick bow, the man retreated back to the castle, and she turned her face back skyward.
It wasn’t long before the footsteps walking toward her filled her ears again, and Auraelia straightened, smoothing her braid over one shoulder.
“Your Majesty.” There was a wariness to Lady Blyana’s tone, and she dropped into a curtsey before approaching. “May I?” she asked, gesturing to the empty space on the bench.
Nodding, Auraelia tilted her face back toward the sky, her voice wistful as she said, “This was once my mother’s garden. Peonies dotted every inch of these bushes, and my mother cared for them all. She hardly ever let the groundskeepers touch them.”
Blyana shifted in her seat. “What happened to them?”
“They died with her,” Auraelia stated flatly, shifting her gaze to the woman next to her.
“Queen Auraelia…I—” She stumbled over her words, her face paling. “I’m not sure what to say.”
