In the sitting room, before the dwindling fire, we shared a meal, and I felt lighter than I had in years. The weight was still there, but it was lessened—pieces of it carried upon the shoulders of those I confided in.
Chapter forty-six
Seren
Days passed in a chaotic whirlwind of meetings and lessons and dress fittings. My mind spun in a dizzying loop as if I had just lost a game of Under the Green Branch. My classmates had always taken the game too far, moving faster and faster until the last child, trapped between the arms of the others, fell to the ground with a spinning head.
Council members flooded me with information on the court and politics, customs and international relations. Every one of them, save for Théo, looked upon me with disappointment.
I was not the queen they wanted. Nor was I likely to be supported by the citizens of Acsilla. They would have preferred Ayla, the princess they knew and loved. I had even heard guards whispering in the halls—sharp as a snake’s hiss—that they favored releasing the prince. They wanted to crown him despite his treason, despite his selfishness and immorality.
The public does not yet know, perhaps they will never have to,the guards whispered.
In the meantime, I continued to prepare for the throne. I feared our attempts were for naught as the councilmembers’ lessons often slipped from my mind. I was fed too much information at once—gorged and wasted—and I struggled to understand all of themoving pieces, so after each endless day, Ayla and Théo sat with me. They taught me everything I needed to know, these talks often running late into the night. I became even more grateful for my cousin as we continued to get to know one another.
When I finally found myself in bed, alone with my restless mind, I thought of Harkin. Though it had only been a fortnight since he left for Villaz Silven and his family home, I felt his absence keenly.
We had spent nearly every moment of every day together for months. I hated him, at first. I had tried to end his life on multiple occasions, but we had eventually grown to be allies, accomplices—perhaps even friends. I knew now that there was something more between us, or at least, there could be, if either of us was brave enough to say the words aloud.
I did not know if I had the strength. I had come such a long way from the girl I had once been—hateful and ignorant, unwilling to open my heart to others in the fear that I might lose them. I did not want to be that girl still, but the familiar walls threatened to creep over my exposed heart. I reminded myself of the progress I had made and the reason for it. I thought of Harkin and the careful way he plaited my hair, the concern in his eyes as he protected me and cared for my wounds, the way he kissed me like he was drowning, and I was oxygen.
No, I would not let myself fall back into old patterns. I might end up hurt because of it—the twinge in my heart might fester and ache—but I would not prevent myself from accepting the chance for happiness any longer.
I fell asleep with a warm wave of satisfaction, hoping to dream of Harkin.
The scene opened on a cozy home, embraced by a ring of trees. They were blued by a clouded wash of moonlight.
I could feel him, so near, and I stepped closer, reaching.
But the doorknob disappeared beneath my grasp. The house shifted, darkening and tilting. It twisted into something broken but not empty. I was not alone.
Her features were so like Théo’s. Stark white hair cut bluntly against translucent skin. Palest gray eyes stared, unblinking, but where Théo’s smile was placid, hers was severe. When she drew her lips back, her teeth were sharp. I imagined what they would look like coated in my blood.
She lunged for me, nails digging hard into my wrist. They pierced skin, drawing crescent moons of fresh blood.
I screamed, scrambling back, but she moved with me.
Her colorless eyes studied me for a moment before she smiled, apparently pleased at whatever she found. “Seren Corso… Your soul tastes so sweet. Can you feel it reaching for me? Waiting for me to claim it?”
The woman breathed deeply, inhaling along the line of my throat.
“So sweet,” she repeated. “So pure.”
“What do you want with me?” I gasped, wrenching myself free with one final pull.
A wash of emotion so strong—twisted and unidentifiable—gripped me by the throat.
I merged with her, unwilling. Glimpses of crowns and blood and chaos shuttered behind my eyes. Betrayal and desire and the denial of all that was owed to her flashed white hot through my chest.
Wanting what was owed to her should not have been a crime, and yet they treated it as such.The words reverberated through me, pulled at my spine—sent me spinning deeper into her memory.
She shoved me out with a brutal, ripping sensation.
I cried out, stumbling.
“So unpracticed,” she cooed, “but it matters not. I will see you soon, Seren Corso. Until then…Forget.”
The dream shattered around me, and the scene slipped away in jagged, cutting pieces.
