I couldn’t bear another hour of silence, another hour of the agony of not knowing if we were done before we’d truly even started. Not when I finally had the chance to set things right.
So I stalked across the castle, heart thundering, guards’ boots echoing behind me, letter in hand. The quiet was a tangible thing in the corridors, thick with too many emotions for me to name as the pre-dinner hour settled. I hoped he was in his rooms, not running again, not taking away my chance to tell him everything, to show him what I’d written.
The low-burning torches cast shadows on the walls, illuminating the dust motes that danced in the air as I entered the royal family’s wing. I could hear movement in the vacant king’s room. The maids must be giving it the same treatment my room had received back in the spring, stirring up dust in forgotten corners or underneath unused furniture.
I paused in front of Emrys’s door, hand raised, ready to knock. But my shadows in steel distracted me. I snapped, “Do you mind giving me space?”
It was the first time I’d ever been anything close to rude to Emrys’s men. Their emotions were all jumbled up—confusion, relief, boredom.
“Sorry. I just…need some privacy,” I admitted, tone softer.
Neither man said a word, but the one closest to me nodded infinitesimally. They retreated a few paces, still forming a watchful wall at my back.
I raised my hand again and knocked. The door creaked inward at my touch. I eyed both my guards and decided it was worth the risk. I peeked in.
The bed was stripped, the hearth cold. There wasn’t a trace of him left. My chest caved in. The air itself seemed to vanish with him, leaving nothing behind but the pounding of my heart. No.No, he couldn’t…
Panic seized me, cold and sharp as ice in my veins. He was running.
But where? Was he going back to the Assembly or, worse, going to fight them alone? Was he retreating into a form of exile, or was there another path, a journey he wanted to take that I couldn’t be part of?
My knees nearly gave way beneath me. Stumbling back, I half-ran down the corridor, no longer caring about the trailing guards. My feet guided me toward the place where I could cry in peace while I packed my bags.
I would find him and join him. I’d done it once. I could do it again.
This time, the guards didn’t enter my room first. They simply took up positions on either side of my door. I shoved inside, flinging the door open wide, trying to breathe, trying to think.
But before I’d made it three steps into my room, the sound of wood on the brink of splintering and a sudden flare of magic stopped me cold. The connecting door, sealed since the queen’s death, trembled, with a low, guttural sound vibrating through its frame.
A burst of dark power I knew well forced it to groan open, still miraculously in one piece. The air that rushed in from the other room smelled of dust and grief, but with Emrys standing there, the past surrounding us no longer mattered.
For a moment, I couldn’t move, only gape. The world narrowed to the space between us—his magic lingering in the air like embers drifting on the breeze after a wildfire, the uneven breath in my chest, the unbelievable fact that he was here. Not gone. Not lost.Here.
His eyes found mine, and some of his tension melted away, shoulders dropping, jaw unclenching. His gaze was soft again, making my heart falter over the hope blossoming in my chest.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, his voice raspy. “The door was stuck. Hasn’t been opened in years.”
Relief crashed into me so hard my vision blurred. He was…removing the lock on the King’s door?
“What are you doing?” My voice quavered.
Emrys stepped through, shoulders squaring. I could hear furniture moving behind him, muffled voices directing each other. Another deep rumble. “Moving in.”
My heart lurched, and the sound of the letter crinkling as my fist clamped around it filled my ears. “So you’ve decided the succession?”
He nodded and stepped into my room, waving the massive door shut behind him with a flick of magic. “We have.”
The Assembly would be thrilled. I’d be burdened by shame, but with this news, I could go back to Caervorn safely—probably. It wasn’t my home, not anymore, but it was the only other place I’d ever known. The Assembly would find some way to continue using me, but I could take solace in knowing that my presence here had helped make Darreth a better place.
My gaze fell to the ground, struggling to stuff down the emotions, to keep it all inside. But Emrys closed the distance between us and reached for my free hand. I trembled as I gave it, still stunned by the revelation that he would be king. And what an amazing king he’d be.
Close now, I couldn’t ignore the fact that his walls weren’t up. He was…steady, resolute,changed. But not angry.
Before he could utter a word, I shoved the letter against his chest. “I wrote to Chancellor Maeron. I want you to read it.”
The paper quivered between us, rustling like my words were trying to escape the page. My magic was strong, but it couldn’t tell me if he knew that I was handing over my heart with the parchment.
Not letting go of my other hand, he flicked it open. Was it too much to hope that his touch was a gentle reassurance? His eyes flitted across the page and for a moment hope rose in my chest.
