“Mother!” Mareleau took off running. She hadn’t expected to feel this relief, this sharp piercing love, this overwhelming comfort. Not for Helena.
But she did, and as she collided into her mother’s arms, she knew Helena felt it too. Cora had been right to include Helena in her terms for the alliance. Mareleau needed her mother. Sure, they would likely fight again like they used to, and they would certainly say cruel things to each other when at their wit’s end. But they’d mended a gap between them that neither would ever dare widen again.
* * *
Cora watchedthe reunion with teary eyes. Larylis and Teryn met next, bracing each other’s forearms. She gave them a few long moments alone before approaching them and addressing Larylis. “I’m sorry I couldn’t bring your mother or brothers.”
“It’s all right,” Larylis said, and there seemed to be only a hint of regret in his tone. He may not be close to Annabel Seralla or his young half brothers, but it must have hurt at least somewhat to know he’d never see them again. Regardless, the Elvyn wouldn’t permit it, as it hadn’t been part of Ailan’s negotiations with the tribunal. Ailan had secured a binding vow from them, granting Larylis and Helena protection, respect, and citizenship in exchange for the terms Cora had promised.
She’d fulfilled every term of her end over the past week, worldwalking the Elvyn soldiers who’d fought alongside the humans. The battle near the tear had been close, but as soon as Darius had disappeared beyond the Veil, many of his soldiers thought him defeated. The tide had turned after that, and the human-Elvyn alliance ended victorious. Still, there had been many casualties. Yet more lives Cora would mourn as queen. More deaths she bore the weight of.
Meanwhile, Teryn had overseen the aftermath of the battle at Ridine, which had far fewer casualties on their side. The wraiths had truly saved them that night. Shortly after Cora and Teryn had left for Centerpointe Rock, the battle had ended. The survivors had surrendered or fled. Captain Alden had chosen not to give chase to those who ran, and Cora agreed with that decision. Let them run. Let them tell the tale of terror that had befallen them. Let them strike fear into the hearts of anyone who would seek to come for Lela next.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done,” Larylis said, bringing her back to the present. “For ensuring my place here.”
“You’re welcome,” Cora said, then glanced down at Noah. She hadn’t paid him much attention since birth, hadn’t ever asked to hold him or rock him. Now she knew why—she’d been afraid. Too afraid that the bitterness that had clogged her heart would rear its head and force her to confront it. But she had confronted it. She cast a questioning look at Larylis. “Can…can I hold him?”
“Of course.” His answer came so easily. He had no idea how hard it had been for her to utter those words.
Her heart beat a little heavier as he passed the child to her. She looked down at the sleepy, pudgy-cheeked baby, her senses open to whatever reaction she might have. If she felt a bitter pang, she’d accept it. If she felt hurt, or rage, or tears, she’d let it come. And yet…only warmth filled her heart as she held the child for the first and last time. “I wish I could watch you grow up, little nephew,” she said, and she meant every word.
“I wish you could too.” Mareleau stood before her now, her eyes red from crying during her reunion with her mother.
Cora pressed a gentle kiss to Noah’s downy head and passed him back to Larylis. Then she and Mareleau collided in a hug. More warmth filled her, every ounce of resentment gone. Free. She fully sank into the sorrow of the moment, the beauty of this goodbye. She’d hated Mareleau when they’d first met, considered her a rival. The kind of woman Cora could never get along with.
But they’d found camaraderie in darkness. They were different in many ways, but similar too. Stubborn. Bold. Unafraid of violence and cunning if it helped them reach their goals. They both railed against the societal standards that demeaned them.
Two queens.
Two friends.
Two women who would do whatever they could to influence their two separate worlds for the better.
They pulled apart, their cheeks glistening with tears.
“Goodbye, Cora,” Mareleau said, voice trembling.
“Goodbye, Mare.”
Cora and Teryn stepped back, and Mareleau, Larylis, and Helena huddled close. Valorre nudged Cora’s shoulder. It was time for them to go home. Cora took Teryn’s hand in hers and placed her free palm on Valorre’s neck. She gave one last smile to the people she loved—
“Come, unicorn,” Garot said, tone jovial. “I know you’ll miss your friend, but it’s time for them to leave.”
The blood drained from Cora’s face, and she sensed the same shock radiating from Valorre. “What are you…”
Mother Goddess, it all became so sorrowfully clear. The Elvyn intended for Valorre to stay behind.
“He’s a fae creature,” Etrix said. “He belongs here with his own kind. There is no more fae magic in the human world. If he returns to Lela, he will eventually lose his magic.”
“He’ll become a horse,” Garot said. “That’s what you call a hornless unicorn in your world, isn’t it?”
Cora blinked, struck silent. Even Valorre was mute for once. “No,” she finally managed to say. “He…he’s my friend. My familiar.”
“What they say is true,” Fanon said. His tone lacked all the sharpness it used to contain. Instead, it was deeper, laced with grief and exhaustion. “Even more pressing is that we made a binding vow to Ailan. Everyone on the tribunal did, and it outlasts her death. We would accept these few humans as citizens in El’Ara, but none of our kind will be left in Lela.”
Ailan had told her as much, but she’d imagined the Elvyn soldiers, not Valorre. Yet…a part of her had understood those terms extended to the unicorns. It was why Valorre had worked so hard to escort his brethren through the Veil before she pushed themoraback.
Even so, not once had she imagined Valorre being left in El’Ara when all was said and done.
