“You are a queen now, traveling to Andorwood. Not that you need anything to prove yourself, but I thought… Well, we thought this would come in handy—really make a statement.” Silas smiles widely and continues, “Plus, it’s your mother’s. I told you I’d do anything to protect the things you love.”
My hands tremble as I touch each crystal, feeling the smooth, firm stones against my fingertips.
Memories of my mother swirl in my mind, and for just a moment, I swear I hear someone softly calling my name.
She loved this crown. My mother wore it even on the most casual occasions. Every painting in the castle depicted her wearing it; she always told me it would be mine one day. I always dreamed of the moment I would wear it, but now it feels heavier—almost sour—like the weight of the entire kingdom will rest on my head.
“Thank you. Thank you all so much.” I can’t stop the tears streaming down my cheeks. “This means more than you will ever know.” I smile through the tears, and Silas takes my hand.
“And,” Maines chimes in, “you’re going to look like a total badass wearing that in front of these unruly men.”
We all share a moment of laughter.
"Well, I’m going to disappear for the night,” Rose says, patting my shoulder. “You crazy kids behave yourselves. Especially you, Hombern.” Oak raises his glass toward Rose as she continues, “We have important things to do tomorrow.”
I stand, my chair sliding backward, and embrace her tightly. She is the closest thing I have to a mother, and when she’s around, I feel as if my mother is here, too.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
She offers a gentle smile and moves to the narrow staircase, heading below deck.
While the others engage in a new conversation, I take a moment for myself and walk to the ship's edge. Though we are close to Andorwood, all I see is darkness ahead. The black night resembles a wall of shadows, pulling me back to the pier in Daramveer—the chaos, fear, and ancient power haunt me. What are we going to do? How can we save Daramveer and our realms…
Rohhit.
I grip the wooden rail as my knees buckle, and the overwhelming sensation of sinking takes over. My knuckles turn white from my hold, and the ship begins to swirl around me.It’s not happening. We are safe right now.I breathe through my nose, a technique Rose taught me, and count to ten.
One.
Two.
As my chest begins to rise and fall more steadily, I feel my nerves start to ease. By the time I reach ten, I’m able to stand upright and take in a full breath.
The sinking feeling fades, and I find myself standing on solid legs once more. Braver this time, I glance back at the darkness and narrow my eyes, attempting to peer past it rather than directly into its depths.
I am Briar Blackbyrne, Queen of Daramveer, and I am not afraid.
The waves crash against the ship's side, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever stop hearing this sound. It’s been so constant for weeks now, and all I want at this moment is to be on solid ground—even if that means standing on the soil of Andorwood. In the distance, I swear I hear my name being called again—like someone shouting down a long tunnel. But this time, I know it’s not Silas. I’d recognize his velvety voice anywhere, now. This voice is hushed and filled with a deep, desperate sorrow that sends a chill straight to my soul.
“I was worried that the gift would upset you too much,” Maines says, walking up beside me. “I was hesitant to let them give it to you.”
Her voice startles me, and I slowly shift my gaze toward her, pulling it away from the all-consuming darkness. She offers me a gentle smile and takes my hand.
“No, I love it. It’s exactly what I needed.” I smile and grasp her hand back. “It’s hard to think about her, but I know she would be proud of me—of us—for doing this.”
We gaze into the darkness together, uncertain of what’s to come, but knowing that if we do this together, we will be alright.
“You know, Briar. I had an idea for a gift from me, but I’d never do it without your permission.” She continues to stare forward. “Everything happened so quickly once the trials started… Your brother…”
I jerk my head in her direction.
“I feel like you never got the closure you needed, and if you were interested…” She trails off, as if the words are still tender.
“A ritual,” I manage to say.
She meets my gaze. “Only if you want to. I know you need more closure; it’s bothering you.” Her hand squeezes against mine. “I see it every day, Briar. You are struggling, and maybe this could help.”
My eyes narrow as I look at her. “You want to cast an illusion of Barlowe, don’t you?”
