He said nothing, only pointed down at the shard lying on the floor beside Grimnor. The fractures that had appeared on its surface were gone; somehow, it was still in one piece.
I picked it up.
It was cold again. Lifeless. But the vision it had shown me still burned behind my eyes.
Heart racing, I tried to reconcile this latest vision with all the ones before it. With all the different versions of Lorien I now had swirling through my mind—the idealistic young man, the trapped demigod, the betrayed lover, the bitter architect of his own destruction…
A knock at the door jerked my gaze toward it.
When I looked back, Lorien was gone.
I still found myself quietly asking my questions out loud, as if he were actually there to puzzle them out with me. “Do you think it was true?” I asked. “Whatever was written in the letter? Do you think she truly chose Argoth? Or was she manipulated into it?”
Another knock. “Lady Nova?”
Aveline.
The sound of her kind yet firm voice helped settle my nerves and ground me more fully back in the present.
“Come in,” I called, hoarsely.
She swept inside with two servants in tow. They carried a dress of rippling midnight silk, along with what looked like the rest of my coronation regalia—a cloak of deep charcoal grey lined with silver, intricate pieces of jewelry, and countless other accessories I couldn’t quite focus on, given what had just happened in this room.
“Time for your final fitting before the ceremony,” Aveline announced with gentle authority.
I wasn’t exactly in the mood to stand still and be fussed over, but I didn’t complain as they carefully removed my clothing and began draping the gown over me.
The dress itself was breathtaking—fashioned from layers of silk that appeared black until I moved, at which point shades of slate grey and deep purple peeked through, like shadows dancing within shadows. The bodice was fitted, embroidered with dark silver thread that revealed branch-like patterns when the light hit it just so. More delicate embroidery decorated the floor-length hem, forming silvered images of moths and nightshade flowers. The shoulder line was finished with a subtle ombré effect, making the fabric seemingly dissolve into wisps of translucent black organza, like smoke curling off my shoulders.Or shadows; it would blend well with any I happened to summon.
“Arms up, please,” one of the servants mumbled around a mouth full of pins.
I obeyed, standing numbly upon the stool while they worked to make minor adjustments to the hem and the way the layers fell. They pinned and tucked, debated the length of a certain panel, tested how the fabric moved when I turned.
I tried to pay attention to their whispered consultations and suggestions, to keep my eyes on my reflection in the trifold mirror set up before me. But my gaze kept sliding toward Grimnor, to the shard, and to the place where Lorien had been standing only minutes ago…
Had I imagined him?
No.
I was certain I hadn’t. Somehow, he’d momentarily broken through—pulled himself partially into this room using...what? Were we truly so connected? Had I made a mistake, asking for his help? Dread coiled in my stomach. It somehow felt like I’d officially reached a point of no return with him, with all of this.
“My lady?”
I was suddenly aware of a hand on my arm. I gave my head a little shake, forcing myself to refocus. Aveline’s eyes were shining with emotion when I finally met her gaze.
I managed a small smile. “Well? How do I look?”
She stepped back, gesturing for the servants to do the same so I could see the full effect in the mirror.
The dress had transformed me into something otherworldly—something I didn’t quite recognize at first. The dark silk made my pale skin seem to glow. My raven hair, which one of the servants had quickly pinned up to check the neckline, framed my face in a way that emphasized my features—the sharp line of myjaw, the intensity of my eyes, the set of my shoulders that spoke of a strength that I hadn’t possessed just months ago.
“You look like a queen,” Aveline said softly.
I looked at my reflection again, closer this time. Everything else faded into the background as I inhaled deeply, watching the way the movement made the dress shimmer. With my exhale came faint shadows, curling across my collarbones and down my bare arms. As expected, they looked like they could have been an extension of the dress itself—exactly as I’d hoped for when Aveline and I had planned this design.
A dress fit for a queen who walked comfortably alongside darkness and death.
Staring into my reflection’s eyes, unflinching, I realized I truly didn’t fear those things any longer. Because I’d learned to carry my shadows—to wear them like armor and wield them as weapons rather than hiding them away.
