I laugh through my tears. “And yet here you are.”
Her gaze drifts toward my father, sleeping fragile in his bed. A smile lingers, tender and aching. “How could I not? He was a force to be reckoned with. He won everyone over. It was no surprise he won me over, too.”
A comfortable silence follows, heavy with memory. She squeezes my hand. “I’m proud of you, Serenya. You’ve come so far.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. “Only because I have so many people who love me,” I say, smiling softly.
Eventually, the fire burns low. My thoughts wander to Koen’s smile, to my father’s shallow breaths, to Elowen’s false kindness, to the Divine Ceremony only two days away.
So much to fear.
So much to hope for.
But tonight, in this room, I let myself rest. I fall asleep curled by the hearth, thoughts of Koen chasing me into dreams.
------------? ? ? ? ?------------
The next two days blur. Sun up, sun down—I barely notice it past the curtains in my parents’ chamber.
I don’t leave my father’s side. Not until he wakes. Not even for Koen. I haven’t talked to Alira much, but she did say she told him where I was. Said he understood.
Still, I can’t stop picturing that crease between his brows. The way he looks when he’s worried. I want to see him, to tell him what’s been building in my chest, but I need to focus on my father first. There will be time. There has to be time. After all…I’m going to marry him.
The thought still makes my stomach tumble and mycheeks burn.
Gods above, how am I supposed to face him without my face turning as pink as a ripe strawberry?
Small comforts find their way to me. Asbel sent a pouch of rich, spiced tea, and I find myself sipping it every night, the warmth grounding me. Lioran sent vanilla sea-salt caramels, and I may or may not have devoured them all in one sitting. My mother pretended not to notice.
It’s strange how, even in these heavy days, little kindnesses can lift me. I think of Koen most of all. His smile. The way his presence fills the spaces in me that I thought would always be empty and aching. For so long, I believed loving anyone else was a betrayal to Kallan. But Koen is not a replacement. He is…simply Koen. And gods help me, I think I’m falling. No. IknowI am.
My heart skips at the thought. Soon, I’ll stand beside him before the gods and my people. Soon, I will speak the vows that will bind us. Soon, I will really be his in every aspect. And he will be mine.
I need Father to wake in timefor it. He has to. I want him there, even if all he can do is watch from the dais. I whisper this prayer to every god who will listen, though none ever seem to hear me.
My eyes drift closed in the glow of the hearth, my shadows curled protectively at my feet. I let myself imagine a future where I am not fighting to hold everything together. A future where I can rest my head against Koen’s shoulder and simply be.
Though somewhere in the dark corners of my thoughts,unease still coils about Elowen, about my father’s strange illness, and about Gravenholme’s mysteries, I let it fade for tonight. Just tonight.
Because hope doesn’t feel like a lie anymore.
Chapter 42
?---- Kallan (Flashback) ----?
We sit in the hot spring, steam curling softly around us, the warmth seeping into my bones. My back rests against the smooth stone ledge, Serenya’s body settled in my lap, her back pressed to my chest. One arm circles her waist while my free hand idly winds a strand of her silken hair around my finger, unable to stop touching her, needing to feel her close.
The glowworms clinging to the cave walls scatter their pale blue-green light across the water, mingling with the silver thread of moonlight that spills through the opening, where the lake beyond laps gently against the rocks. The world feels hushed, as though holding its breath for us.
She sighs, soft and content, and the sound strikes something deep in me.
“What do you want your wedding to be like?” I murmur against her hair, my voice low, almost tentative.
She chuckles, but there’s a note in it that isn’t lighthearted. “It will be a royal wedding. I doubt I’ll have much of a choice.”
“We could have another,” I counter quickly. “A smaller one. Intimate. Just us, and those closest to us. We could hold it in the meadow, with all the flowers in bloom, the air filled with the scent of them. Something just for us, beyond the crown, beyond the court.”
Her body stiffens slightly, and I feel her breath catch. “Kallan…” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Don’t. Please. Don’t paint me this dream that sounds so lovely but…impossible.”
