Mother cups my face with both hands, her gray eyes looking between each of mine. “Because unlike me, you were born for this. You’re going to be exactly what this kingdom needs, Malina, because it’s in your blood.”
She kisses me on the hand and then settles me back onto the ground. “Now run back down and return to your lessons before your poor scholar walks himself into a limp looking all over for you.”
I nod reluctantly. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
Mother gives me a little smile. “Of course I am, darling.”
She died four months later.
That memory blows out as quickly as it sparked. A brief flash, gone in a blink. Tears coat my cheeks, freezing with the frigid air. My mother was wrong. I wasn’t a great queen for Highbell. I didn’t become what it needed.
I became its downfall.
Yet despite my failures, Idohave the right blood. So now, I need to use it to right the wrong I committed when I willingly let this bridge be remade. Perhaps, by doing this, I canfinallybe who she believed I would be. Who I should have been from the start.
By standing here and giving Orea my everything. By giving the bridge one last offering.
An offering of blood. And willingness.
Because that is what the twins meant. They gave me the answer through their mockery. It’s what the bridge represents, and that monumental knowing has given me crystal-clear clarity, even here, within the veiled air.
Down the bridge, distant wind churns the fog. Down in my chest, my heart drips.
I swallow past the lump in my throat and then lift the dagger, but my hand shakes so badly that I can’t hold it still.
Tears leak from my eyes, and my teeth chatter. My body has finally thawed enough to feel the chill, only for me to stand here and freeze. To let the warmth I’ve earned drain right back out.
Such a sad thought.
“Malina!”
I flinch in surprise as Dommik appears out of the thick fog like a wraith. His eyes are wild, hood thrown back, face full of fear.
“What are you doing?” he shouts, and I notice he’s covered in blood spatter. That he’s probably had to fight his way through to get to me.
“You shouldn’t be here, Dommik!” I yell desperately.
“Let’s go!” He tries to take my arm, to pull me away, but I don’t budge. “What are you doing?” he demands again.
I hate hearing the panic in his voice. The terrified confusion.
Swallowing hard, I look him in the eye. “I can’t go, Dommik.”
“What the fuck do you mean?” he growls out.
“Blood matters,” I say urgently, except how could I begin to explain? Yet I have to, because now he’s followed me here and I have to tell him the truth.
So I do. With heavy words that stack up only to weigh me down.
“Ithasto be me.”
His eyes flare as they search for answers in mine. Answers I tried to shield him from. But it seems I can’t hide from an assassin who travels in shadows.
“This is what was wrong. When I asked you before,” he says, piecing it together. “What did those fae tell you? They’re tricking you, Malina!”
His body is tense and poised, his survival instincts spiking. I can see he wants to rush, to run. I can see that he thinks there’s still a chance for that.
But he doesn’t understand yet. This was the bridge to nowhere.
