And now, I would use them to survive whatever came next.
TWENTY-NINE
Nova
The next day and a half passed in a whirlwind of planning and preparing, with frequent, harried meetings about security measures and ceremonial protocols. Excitement was the dominant emotion throughout most of my palace, among the servants and visitors alike. Because they only saw the celebration in the making—the glittering decorations going up, the boisterous conversations, the food and drinks flowing more and more freely.
They weren’t thinking beyond this historical moment. And they weren’t haunted by the things I’d witnessed. The faces of dead Order members; Lorien’s ghostly apparition; Aleksander’s wrong-looking and odd-feeling magic—just to name a few.
Which was what I wanted, of course.
I had agreed to wear a crown and bring them hope, and keeping that fragile hope alive meant shielding them from all the questions and fears that kept me awake at night.
It was exhausting, constantly being on guard. But I kept moving, walking through the halls of my palace with power andpurpose, my head held high and Phantom stalking alongside me with all his senses honed and alert.
There were more sightings and encounters with possible Order members. More suspicious activity. But, although my soldiers made several attempts to apprehend possible suspects, none were successful. One more died—taking her own life with a quick blade to the throat rather than submitting to capture and questioning—and the others all slipped out of our grasp at the last instant.
With every encounter, Captain Voss and a few of my advisors continued to urge me to reconsider going through with the public coronation. I refused. The palace, the royal city, and all the reviving settlements throughout Rivenholt were abuzz with expectation. I wasn’t going to let them down. I wouldn’t show fear.
There was a darker reason I refused, too. Though I wouldn’t admit it to anyone, part of mewantedthe Order to attempt to crash this coronation party.
Because I wanted revenge.
I’d frozen in place after witnessing Orin’s murder, but that wouldn’t happen this time. I was stronger now. More prepared. And we were in my territory, too, where my shadows were easier to summon and wield.
So let them come.
Finally, the evening of the main event arrived. I insisted on getting ready on my own, savoring the last few moments of solitude before I would be thrust into the glaring spotlight of the public eye.
My dress hung beside the window, dark and beautifully ominous in the setting sunlight. Aveline had left a plate of cinnamon and honey cakes alongside it—my favorite of the many delicious things she baked. I nibbled at the corner of oneas I gathered my accessories and contemplated what to do with my hair.
My gaze kept lifting to the balcony doors, to the spot where Lorien’s ghost had appeared. He hadn’t returned since our brief encounter the other day—perhaps because the second shard we’d obtained was now locked away with the first, several floors below me and Grimnor.
While I styled my hair in loose curls that I pinned up and away from my face, I kept one eye on that legendary sword, thinking.
What had triggered Lorien’s appearance?
Would he continue to find more ways to manifest, now that we had two pieces of his soul?
And where was the third, final piece?
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. Two quick taps, one long—like he always did to let me know it was him. I quickly slid the last pin into my hair and went to answer.
Aleks stood on the other side, as expected. He was already dressed, looking the part of an effortlessly gorgeous noble in a black coat embroidered with silver thread, perfectly tailored pants, and polished black boots that gleamed in the light.
My tense muscles relaxed a bit at the sight of him. He was the only person I would have let into my sanctuary just then, and I was relieved that he’d actually shown up; though we’d spent last night together, and our conversations had been easy and unguarded, part of me remained convinced that I was losing him.
The last words he’d carved into the Chamber of Echoes still haunted me.
I have to leave her.
I grabbed his hand before my memory of that ordeal could sink its claws into me. I needed to feel it—the way he locked his fingers into mine and squeezed. Solid. Real. Still here.
He pulled me closer and kissed me, slow and deep and savoring. When he drew his lips away, he didn’t go far, leaning his forehead against mine for a long moment. “Ready for tonight?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
He finally stepped back, his gaze shifting between me and my waiting gown. He nodded encouragingly toward it.
