“You saved a kingdom.”
She closed her eyes. “I’m scared of who I’m becoming.”
Nythir leaned his forehead against hers. “Then let me be there as you become her.”
Her breath shook.
She didn’t pull away.
The future pressed close around her, vast and unfinished.
There would be councils that hated her. Nobles who tested her. Decisions that followed her into sleep.
Esther did not feel ready.
And for the first time, she accepted that readiness might not be required.
Tomorrow, they would return to Valedara.
Tomorrow, the kingdom would demand everything from her.
Tonight, she let herself lean into the warmth of the man who had nearly broken when he thought he’d lost her.
Tonight, she would rest.
And she would not spend it alone.
45
Esther
How to Go Home: fix your kingdom, claim your love, and kiss him like he’s the future you chose.
Valedara’s castle looked different when Esther returned.
Not physically—its towers still cut the sky, its stones still wore centuries of history—but emotionally.
It no longer felt like a cage.
It felt like a responsibility. A promise.
A home she intended to rebuild with her own two hands.
She felt the air shift as she crossed the drawbridge—the faint hum of old magic buried deep in the foundations. Her mother’s magic had once threaded through every hall; now it lingered like dust motes waiting for sunlight. The castle wasn’t dying, but it was tired. Waiting.
I’ll wake you up again,Esther thought.
The thought settled into her chest with quiet certainty.
This place had been built to endure sieges, betrayals, centuries of fear and compromise. But endurance was not the same as care.
Esther brushed her fingers lightly against the stone as she passed, sensing the faint echo of magic deep within the walls—not broken, just neglected. Like a song half-remembered.
She had left this castle as a girl, afraid of being trapped.
She returned as someone who understood that staying could be an act of courage.
The castle guards gawked openly as their small army marched through the gates. Zaria rode beside them on a borrowed horse, Luna perched behind her like they were sewn together.
