I did not feel I deserved this bow. Maybe it saw something I didn’t. Would the Archdruid share my father’s beliefs, or would he sense the same potential Siotha did?
Ferris whistled. “At least we know where we’re going.”
The palace was impossible to miss. It rose from the center of the lake, flying the brilliant blue banners of Muirashi. The strange waterborne trees surrounded it like a protective grove, leaves brushing the balconies.
At a crossroads, the platforms branched off in several directions. The broadest path led through rows of trees toward the palace. Two soldiers stood guard at the path’s entrance, spears planted at their feet.
Taking a breath, I approached them. “I must see the Archdruid.”
One stepped forward and examined us with piercing, sky-blue eyes. “Everyone needs to see the Archdruid these days. State your name.”
Ferris stood taller. “Prince Ferris of Aenir.” He slid a ring off his finger. “This should prove my identity.”
The guard took the signet ring and turned it over. “Come with me, your highness.”
Ferris took his ring back and shot me a smug grin. He’d gotten me into the palace, as promised.
Nodding at his fellow, the guard waved for us to follow and led us through the hall of trees. The rush of the crowd muted behind us.
“What brings you here?” The guard asked. “I presume it's bad news—everything is these days.”
“Tsuyan is trying to kill their new Paragon,” Ferris explained, sauntering like he owned the place. “I thought the Archdruid ought to be warned.”
“What?” The guard looked between us. “I’d heard Lord Ishii died, but nobody has seen fit to tell us how.”
“Yes, that tale has been kept oddly quiet. Forlaith knows, but they're keeping mum.” Ferris looked at me. “Well, go on.”
I closed my eyes and pictured the bow of ice, remembering how it had felt in my grip: like I’d always been meant to wield it.
And the power it had promised: a chance to be the sovereign of my own life.
Cold air rushed across the walkway, and snowflakes followed its streams. I opened my eyes as Siotha manifested in my grip, a longbow of crystalline beauty.
“Oh, shit.” The guard stepped back in surprise. “You’re the new Paragon?” He looked me over again, as though reaffirming I was a woman. “No wonder they’re trying to kill you.”
Ferris tsked. “It's foolish nonsense. Cierthine chose Tirnanog's princess, and Aenir accepted her. We would never disparage our beloved blade by claiming it made a mistake.”
“Siotha never has, either. And for all we know . . . slaughtering a Paragon could ensure Siotha never chooses again.” He nodded. “The Archdruid is holding a meeting—but it can wait. This is more important.” Turning on his heel, he quickened his stride.
I glanced at Ferris, surprised. He shot me a grin and pushed me along after our guide.
"One thing," Ferris called to the guard. "Introduce me, and me alone."
The guard glanced back. "Right. Good idea."
Slinging Siotha around my shoulder, I gazed up at the imposing palace. The men stationed at its grand entryway pushed the doors open for us. I saw one double-take when he noticed the weapon around my shoulders.
He was hardly the only one to gape. The palace was abuzz with activity inside; ladies, lords, and stewards alike stared at me—some with confusion, others with wonder. Our guide shooed off anyone who drew near with a curt wave of his hand.
My eyes wandered to the mural painted across the towering ceiling. It was old, faded in a few places. A woman with wings of pastel blue hugged an orb of water to her chest lovingly. Colors swirled around her gown, but I had to look away when I nearly tripped on the stairs leading to the audience hall.
Another pair of guards stood watch outside the throne room doors. “Urgent news, from Aenir,” our guard said. “Let us through.”
“The Archdruid is occupied?—”
“It cannot wait,” he repeated.
The guards glanced at each other before pushing the doors open. Ferris took my wrist and gently moved me behind him as we funneled into the hall.
