I leaned my head on his shoulder, staring into the windows of the grand hall. I could make out the vague shapes of figures moving through the decoratively frosted glass. The number of them was multiplying at an alarming rate, and I could hear more carriages arriving at the gate Aleks had headed toward; the guests were truly piling in, now. It was almost time to face them.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see this day,” my brother said. “Though I never stopped hoping you would come home.”
Home.
The word didn’t make me recoil as it once had. It was still a complicated thing to me. But I’d always thought home was less of a specific place and more of a feeling. And the people who stirred that feeling in you were what truly mattered. So home was here, at my brother’s side. At Thalia’s. At Eamon and Zayn’s, even.
Home was Aleks, and it always would be, no matter how our light and shadows shifted.
And sometimes, you had to fight to protect your home—a fact I was reminded of as a group of guards approached, halting at a respective distance until my brother waved them closer.
“The perimeter is secured,” the lead guard informed us. “We have a company ready to escort you inside, whenever you’re ready.”
“Thank you,” Bastian said.
They bowed and stepped back to their respective places.
My brother stood and offered me his hand. A strange emotion overcame me as I looked between it and the guards waiting for us, and then finally to the bustling grand hall. I couldn’t have named the emotion—maybe because it was a combination of so many different things. Fear. Anger. Determination. Hope.
“You know this remains your choice until the very end,” Bastian said.
“I do.” I took his hand, rising to my feet. “And I choose it.”
THIRTY
Aleksander
I’d witnessed more than my share of elaborate royal ceremonies throughout my life, but none had made my heart pound quite like this one.
Nova stood upon the raised platform at one end of the grand hall, bathed in the light of a hundred candles from both the ornate silver sconces lining the marble walls and the glittering crystal chandeliers dangling above. A crowd of at least two-hundred looked on as she faced Lord Carrick Brennan, the man who served as ruler of the royal city of Tarnath, and as Master of Ceremonies for occasions such as this. Her brother, Eamon, and Thalia stood off to one side, while several foreign dignitaries stood as witnesses on the other.
I kept watch from the bottom of the steps that led up to the platform, Phantom sitting at my side, his body tense.
I never ceased scanning the crowd for threats, my magic humming beneath my skin in constant readiness. But I kept finding my gaze drawn back to Nova. To the regal silhouette she cut in that midnight gown. The way she held her headhigh despite the weight of what was to come. The fierce determination burning in her bright eyes.
She took my breath away every time.
Focus, I told myself.Keep her safe first. Admire her later.
The ceremony pressed on and on.
Zayn caught my attention from his position near the eastern entrance, his hand resting casually on his sword hilt, though his expression was anything but casual as he gave me a barely perceptible nod—all clear, for now.
I returned the nod, then let my attention drift once more across the faces in the crowd, studying them. The nobles who had crawled out of hiding now that there was a throne worth groveling toward. The commoners who were in awe of the queen rising before them, especially since she’d taken the time to personally invite many of them to this event. The red-faced men and women from all ranks who were mostly here to enjoy the celebration, politics be damned…
Most looked harmless enough.
I hadn’t spotted any obvious Order members—yet.
But that didn’t mean they weren’t here.
Lord Brennan’s voice resonated through the room, ancient words in an old tongue that I imagined spoke of duty and sacrifice, of power and responsibility.
Nova’s expression remained serene, composed, though I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers curled slightly at her sides, wanting to anxiously twist into the layers of her dress. Subtle things that most of the room wouldn’t notice. I almost overlooked them myself.
She might have been terrified beneath the surface, but she was magnificent nonetheless. Even her more vocal detractors—such as Lord Renvar—remained quiet and respectful as they watched. I kept a close eye on both him and the Drynland King,Marius. If the Order had truly infiltrated this kingdom’s politics, those two seemed like the sort they might have targeted.
They did nothing to arouse any suspicion for the moment, though. All was calm. Everything proceeded according to plan, and eventually, the ending of the ceremony arrived.
