‘You have no thirst for revenge? You do not ask for thedeath of the man who did this to you? I’m sure many in your position would wish to see him dethroned. Cast from his High Hold and tossed into the life you and your sister were forced to suffer. I could do that, of course, but not both.’
I hate myself for contemplating the idea – even for a moment – but it is not as though I haven’t dreamed of that exact form of revenge many, many times. Of Korvane Knavin seeing firsthand how his people live outside the exalted rings of Wrohelm. But would the person who takes his place be any better? It is not as if I could rule, and Kyor is not ready. I know that. But one day, if the line stays as it is, then Kyor will be king. Kyor, who etches a mark for every death he sees so that their lives are not forgotten. Who was only cast from this place because he trusted me out on the water. He would listen. He would see. With him as the king’s heir, their family bloodline has hope. The people have hope.
‘I believe the return of those things that were lost will be enough for me, thank you.’
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ she says. ‘First, I will return the magic, and then your home and wealth.’ She winks. ‘And maybe I’ll give you a little more, too … to make up for the time you lost.’
I assume she’s talking only of extra wealth, but then she takes my hands and searing power rushes up through my palms, flooding my veins. It’s so hot it should burn me from the inside, consuming my very being, but instead, it fills me and makes me whole. More than whole. My head flies back, and somewhere in the distance I hear Jonas scream out my name, but I can’t so much as move my eyes towards him. My lungs are gasping as I breathe in every ounce of magic offered. All that was stripped from me, all that I recently received, and so much more besides.
When the Goddess finally releases me and steps back, my hands have the faintest glow to them.
‘Your magic has been returned. The High Priestess will see to your home and wealth. And as for the most important part of what was taken from you, it will come with time.’
And with that enigmatic promise, the world disappears from beneath my feet.
Chapter 73
Isqueeze my eyes tightly closed against the light that comes as a blinding contrast to the depths of the caves I was in just moments before. When I blink them open again, confusion takes hold. The room I’ve been taken to isn’t my room in the Retterheld barracks; instead, it’s a work of art. A sumptuous bed, larger than any I have seen, sits in the centre of the space, and ornate tapestries and gilded mirrors hang on the walls, the latter of which reflect the light flowing from the large, lead-lined windows. I step towards one and gape at the sight that awaits me. From here I can see out across the entirety of Wrohelm, the city and its rings fading into the distance. It’s a view the likes of which I hadn’t even realised was possible. Whatever this room is, it must be in the very highest part of the High Hold, or at least close to it.
The height is somewhat dizzying, and I step back, trying to draw in a breath. I struggle to get my thoughts in order. Did that really happen? Did I really just win the gifting? Everything I ever wanted is mine. It feels … unbelievable. A dream. A hope. A wish. Now my reality. I almost cannot accept it, yet I know it is real. I can still feel the weight of my dagger in my palm as I killed Zara and the sting of the grazes on my shins and elbows from the countless shafts I climbed through. I can still see Jonas’s eyes as he thought his last moment had come. Yes, it is real.
With my heart pounding, I try to take a deep, calming breath, when something new causes my pulse to quicken further. My magic. I can feel itwithin me. Weaving through my veins. Filling my cells. Gods, I forgot how it feels, that warm, comforting buzz between my ribs.
Several small ornamental plant pots sit around the room. While looking at one, I twist my wrist, feeling the tendrils of my magic flow from my fingertips. As I watch, the plant flourishes, its leaves twisting upwards as new buds sprout, then open into wide, colourful petals. Flowers.
My magic. Just like my mother’s.
It has truly been returned.
A gasp escapes my lungs and tears trickle down my cheeks. I did it. I actually did it.
‘Rose?’ a familiar voice calls from behind the door. ‘Rose, are you here?’
‘Kyor?’ I twist towards the sole entrance to the room.
‘Rose?’ I hear him call my name again a second before the door swings open. His look is one of awe and wonder and pure adoration.
‘I knew you would succeed. You did it, Thorn. You did it!’ His grin is triumphant and proud and infectious, and I find myself laughing, giddy with pure joy as I fall into his arms. His scent and his arms wrap around me in delicious perfection. Everything about this moment is more than I could have dreamed. He is here. I am here.
‘You are the most magnificent person I have ever met,’ he declares before planting his lips against mine. His magic does not spark between us now. We don’t need it. Kyor as he is, is enough for me. And from the way he holds me, as if I am something to be cherished, savoured, it’s clear that the feeling is mutual.
When we finally break away from the kiss, I look up into those clear blue eyes, unsure how I ever thought they were icy. That’s not the type of blue they are at all. They’re the blue of a cerulean sky, of clear, warm water. The type that invites you in and holds you in complete comfort.
‘Where are we?’ I ask. ‘And how the hell did you know I’d be here?’
‘It’s the Spire,’ he tells me. ‘Tallest point of the High Hold. I always wondered what this part of the palace was for. It’s always been off limits, even to me. But then I saw the priestesses outside?—’
‘The priestesses?’
‘They told me that this is where they take the gifted before the final ball.’
‘They told you I won?’
He shakes his head. ‘They didn’t need to. It was always going to be you. I knew, Thorn. Iknew it would be you.’
He looks down at me as his hands cup my cheeks. Both our eyes are glistening with tears.
‘I have it all back, Kyor. Everything. My magic, my wealth, my title.’
