A rasped cough escapes her, and she presses her other palm to her deflated middle. “It doesn’t hurt anymore,” she murmurs.
I’m no mender, but even I know that isn’t a good sign.
“You were so very brave,” I whisper.
She slumps back, fevered eyes growing heavy. “You won’t leave me?” she asks.
It takes everything I have to not allow myself to sob. I shake my head firmly, squeezing her fingers once more. “No, Mist. I won’t leave you. You won’t be alone ever again.”
Relief shudders through her, and she settles against the stained pillow, her wailing going quiet. “He was so beautiful… You’ll tell the king, won’t you? Midas will be so happy.” She lets out another sigh. “I hope I get to hold him soon.”
“You will,” I whisper as a frigid tear cuts down my cheek. “Rest now.”
Mist nods and her expression smooths out, and then her eyes flutter shut.
She doesn’t open them again.
I exit the room with a weighed-down spirit. Mist’s death, the death of her innocent child, are tragedies. I’m shaken with the fault of them, because both lines lead back directly to me.
Stopping in the corridor, my body slumps against the wall. I place my forehead against it, shoulders curled in, eyelids squeezed tight.
I always wanted to be a mother. Not just because the kingdom expected it, not just to make an heir, but to have a love that could be mine. To love a child, the way my mother had loved me. Yet the Divine gods were right to deny me my wish.
I would’ve failed at that too.
Ice clinks onto the floor as my frosted breath shakes out. Here in the quiet, I mourn for Mist and her baby. Mourn for everyone who died in Highbell. And just as I said in Auren’s room, I whisper out a quiet apology.
“I’m sorry.”
All of it, every death, every fault, it cuts through me with blades, and I bleed. Bleed and bleed onto the gilded floor.
After I wipe my cheeks, exhaustion pulls at me, but I force myself to straighten. I shove my shoulders back as I walk out of the corridor and onto the main staircase. I haven’t earned respite or solitude, nor do I deserve to stand here and sorrow, because none of this is about me or my feelings.
Kingdom comes first.Oreamust come first.
My feet carry me down the staircase, and I find one of the servants. “There’s—” My voice chokes off, but I clear it, forcing out the words. “A woman upstairs in the servant’s chambers has died. I will need help taking care of her body.”
Her eyes widen. “Of course, Your Majesty. We will see to her immediately.”
Before she can walk off, I touch her arm, stilling her. “She gave birth while the fae were here. The child didn’t survive, but she said the fae took him away. Can we try to find him somehow?Maybe there’s someone here who might know something? So the child can be given a proper burial.”
Her expression fills with sadness. “I’ll speak with everyone, Queen Malina. Someone must know something.”
“Thank you.”
With a nod, the woman hurries away, and a weight presses on my chest.
Although I still haven’t eaten, I turn for the main castle doors. Outside, the pile of fae bodies are burning, and more are still being added to the pyre. There’s a group of my people gathered, watching the flames, perhaps trying to burn away their own inner agonies.
I start heading for Dommik across the way, but my gaze finds King Ravinger where he’s securing a saddle atop his timberwing.
Changing course, my steps lead me to him. “Are you leaving?”
He doesn’t spare me a single glance. “Soon, yes.”
I wring my hands in front of me. “I know you’ve been gracious to my people, but I would ask more…” He snaps his attention across my face, and I feel the sting of it, though I don’t back down. “Please, could you bring them with you? Allow my people sanctuary in Fourth Kingdom? I’ll give you anything I can if you send timberwings to take them to your land where they can be safe.”
“I’m not going to Fourth Kingdom.”
