“Good,” she says. “There would be a lot of nice dresses going to waste if we all end up obliterated.” She says it with a sardonic laugh, but I can’t bring myself to join. There’s a very real chance this plan could fail, making it all too real to joke about.
Bringing my hands to my lap, I anxiously pick at a fingernail. “I also released Fehr from his Bond to the palace.”
Amelie looks up from her work, eyes wide. “Why would you do that?”
“He’s going to help build a wall around the isle.”
She furrows her brow but returns to sewing. “That’s helpful, I suppose.”
“Yes, it was interesting how I was able to free him. There’s something he never told me—something I probably could have guessed if I’d thought about it.”
“What’s that?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “He told me I’ve had the power of his true name all along. Since he was Bonded to Irridae, he was essentially Bonded to its ruler as well. When I took his hand that first time he confronted us outside the palace steps, the power of his true name was given to me.”
Her stitches begin to slow. “So, then you released him?”
I nod, feeling a lump rising in my throat. “He told me how.”
She stops sewing altogether, her gaze slowly lifting to meet mine.
I can hardly see her through the sheen of tears that glazes my eyes. “Amelie Fairfield, by the power of your true name, I release you from our Bond.”
Something snaps inside me, and a tangible weight is lifted from my heart, my shoulders. Amelie leans back with a sharp inhale, as if finding her lungs suddenly larger than they were before. We stare at each other for several seconds, both trembling as we orient ourselves in this moment. One where my sister is no longer my slave, my subordinate, and I no longer carry the burden of her name.
Then her face crumples. No sooner than she rises from her feet, I close the distance between us, wrapping her in my arms. Tears stream from our eyes as we sob into each other’s hair, taking our first steps at returning to what we were always meant to be.
Sisters.
42
Later that night, I pace alongside one of the ponds in the palace courtyard, pulling my cloak tight against the chill in the air. I’m still getting used to how cold the desert can be at night, but the coolness helps counteract how badly I’m sweating.
Sweating and avoiding sleep.
A dark shadow swoops overhead, making me jump, but one glance tells me it’s just Venitia the moon dragon. The shadow of his mate glides over the mountains in the distance. Earlier, I ordered the dragons and firebirds to establish sky patrols. Even though we still have three days before the risk of invasion, I want to be prepared. I want eyes on every stretch of land from here to the faewall, in case the humans manage to break through our forces at Port Denyson.
With a sigh, I return to my pacing. It’s the only thing that seems to keep my heart rate from skyrocketing. Perhaps I should have joined Aspen in preparing our soldiers. They’ll be working through the night to ready themselves to march to Port Denyson. And since my nerves won’t let me find sleep…
“Are you going to do this all night?” comes a voice from the palace steps. It’s Lorelei. I whirl toward her, finding Foxglove at her side. The two ambassadors slow as they draw near, and Lorelei raises a questioning brow at me.
“No,” I say. “Just until I feel tired enough to sleep.”
Foxglove lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Sweetie, we all know that’s not going to happen. Might as well enjoy your insomnia.” He thrusts a cup toward me, then reveals two more.
Now I see Lorelei holds two bottles in her arms, cradled like twin infants. “You never did try Agave Ignitus wine. It’s the Fire Court equivalent of Midnight Blush.”
I make to return the cup to Foxglove, but he pointedly ignores me. “I don’t want to drink anything,” I say.
Lorelei sets one of the bottles down and wrestles the cork out of the other. “Sure you do. It will settle your nerves.” Refusing to hear my protests, she fills my cup, then hers and Foxglove’s.
“Drink up, Your Majesty,” Foxglove says with a wink.
I shake my head. “You two enjoy it without me. I can’t indulge tonight. We could set out to march at any moment.”
Lorelei barks a laugh. “Evelyn, you’ve already been marching for an hour.”
Foxglove’s eyes turn down at the corners. “We saw you pacing from the window.”
