She gave Malicine the amulet from the dreamworld, which had been hanging from Corin’s necklace. The gem unraveled from the pendant and lodged itself onto Malicine’s staff. Magic sparked from the demon’s skin as familiar blood ran through their veins. Centuries of another life rushed back to them. Their eyes glowed in recognition. Stories cast from generations, birthed from different worlds and times, shared from past lives and histories, all culminated in this very moment.
The flood of memories hit them all at once. They reeled backward, steadying themselves on the overturned spinning wheel. A shuddered gasp escaped their lips before they collected themselves again.
“Are you certain about this?” they warned. “I can’t cast the sorrow away from here. If we stay, there will be pain beyond our control. The world will not thank us if we survive it.”
Their palm pressed against the hole in Amelia’s chest. She winced as flesh materialized in her wound. Her heart slowly pumped into a steady rhythm once more.
“Does it still hurt?” Malicine asked.
Amelia pressed a hand over the closed wound, where her fragile heart solidified.
“It always will,” she said. “But I need to know if there’s more than surviving the hurt.”
The walls surrounding them rumbled with the sound of intruders. A crowd of shrill cries, a strained bray from a running horse. Light sparked behind the foliage that had hidden the two of them, tearing through tangles of vines. The first drops of rain that permeated their barrier felt like tiny knives against her skin. She would see the man who nearly killed her moments ago in her dream. If she didn’t die, she would have to face the people of Gyldan, whose fate unfairly rested upon a frightened girl with no readiness to rule a kingdom. This was a world that paved only two paths for her.
The cacophony rang louder as their barricade thinned to a single layer of rotting leaves. Malicine seized Amelia by the wrist. She could feel the scales spreading across the demon’s skin, the flare of heat running down their veins.
“Stay back, Amelia.” Spikes studded their tongue, and the pupils of their eyes narrowed into slits. Amelia remembered the distant echo of a dragon’s roar in another version of this scene. How the stories told of a man who vanquished a monster to save a sleeping princess. That was how the world kept turning: The one who conquered the land and its people became the ruler of all.
But Gyldan had once been nothing more than sand before those rules were made. The seeds of a new path grew in Amelia’s mind, one that Lilith had planted long ago.
“No,” she told Malicine. “I will be the one who will burn it all down.”
And so, the fairy tale went like this: A brave prince battled against a vicious dragon that fateful night. Her faerie godmothers carried her sleeping body to the castle, where Gyldan would mourn and weep.
And then, the ending went like this: After the prince kissed his sleeping beauty, she finally woke up.
Amelia opened her eyes and parted her lips, feigning a full gasp of air, as if life were restoring to her veins. Ezran’s silver eyes widened, the first suspicion of her trick, for they both knew that true love did not exist between them. Anger twisted in the snarl of his lips as he realized her pretense. She called for her godmothers before he grabbed his sword. The faeries swarmed her in an embrace, blocking themselves between the two as they cried in celebration.
She let them believe in this fairy tale. The story needed a happy ending, one where the kingdom would come together and celebrate. The couple should announce the wonderful news together, the godmothers suggested. Ezran pressed his lips tight, and behind gritted teeth, new plans formed in his mind. Whatever he considered, Amelia had more than enough time to imagine a different ending.
At the break of dawn, they emerged onto the balcony together. Fractured sunlight glowed across the hopeful faces of Gyldan. The kingdom cried in joy, falling to their knees, their prayers answered. Amelia tried not to think about how the man who wanted to kill her was holding her hand, pretending to be in love, only so that he could pierce his sword through her heart once they were alone. She placed her other hand over her chest, touching the necklace that a girl from her dreams once gave up.
Amelia broke away from Ezran’s grasp as she approached the center of the balcony. She scanned the crowd of faces, and for the first time, spoke loudly to them.
“As your new queen of Gyldan, I will make my first order.” She pointed to the man standing opposite from her. “Prince Ezran will be imprisoned for murder and treason until proven rehabilitated.”
A ripple of outraged gasps surged through the crowd. Amelia turned as Ezran lunged after her in blind fury. His sword aimed forher heart until the blade froze in midair, his limbs locked in position. Confusion spread among the crowd, but the shrill croak of a raven notified Amelia who’d pulled the strings.
Lightning flashed from the sky. A bolt shot from the clouds and shattered Ezran’s sword. Malicine flew toward the balcony, their staff gripped in a tightly wounded fist. The people of Gyldan screamed in panic as they assumed a second murder attempt. Amelia waved her hands and urged them to calm down, but her voice was mute against the uproar. Malicine snarled for the crowd to silence. Within seconds, their lips sealed shut, their feet rooted to the ground.
The silence made Amelia’s breaths too loud. She curled her fingers into fists and tried to still herself before continuing.
“Before I turned eighteen, Malicine revoked my curse. Which means I did not wake up from true love’s kiss. I woke up because I decided so.” Her voice trembled as she pressed forward. “I do not need a man’s love to be the reason why I am alive. And I will not stay married to a man who is too blind to realize our family’s treasure has always been Gyldan.”
She turned to Ezran, waiting for recognition to settle upon his face. His features remained frozen under Malicine’s spell, but she could see the war raging in his eyes. She hoped that, over time, he would understand.
“Ezran is unfit to be your king. But the truth is, I am unfit to be your queen as well. No ruler can save Gyldan, no matter how much gold they have in their blood.”
Amelia had never been suited for the throne, and yet, she could not think of a single person who deserved to sit there as well. Not her father, whose thirst for conquests only stained blood in his legacy. Not her godmothers, who chose to waste their magic forvanity. Not even Lilith, whose peace and virtues alone could not survive violence.
The gold in Amelia’s veins shimmered under the light, and she thought about how useless it was in the end. Centuries of wars and violence for earthly minerals and imaginary titles, all so that the cycle could repeat once more. She remembered the destruction in the Otherworld, how quickly another universe was tarnished under greed and power.
If Gyldan were to avoid the same fate, the kingdom needed something different. She did not know what that would look like yet. But if she could dream impossible things, she could dream this.
“Gyldan was once a kingdom built out of nothing. We welcomed people from all lands and creeds, and that was what made Gyldan today. There were no saviors, kings, or gods. The only thing we have is each other. That is why I will step down as queen and abolish it all. The soldiers, the Fae council, and the monarchy.”
Amelia waited for someone to speak before remembering magic had sealed their lips shut and planted their feet to the ground. Malicine raised their hand to the crowd, facing the guards and faerie godmothers.
