“Martial enrollment numbers have plummeted since the curse,” said Alekko. “I don’t have enough heads to spare you, Queen Regent. If we don’t proactively seek the apostai out and train our men and women appropriately, they will continue to fester. We’ll be in a constant state of reactivity and fear like we are now.”
“I’ve already approved the barons’ requests.” Maryn waved her hand dismissively. “They are worried about the upcoming Equinox and how the courts will vote against our sovereignty. Giving them some additional assurance felt necessary. I have been corresponding with the advisors in the other territories to sway their royals to understand that enacting a marriage decree willnotstabilize this queendom. I am confident in my ability to speak on behalf of this queendom and get the courts to vote against such an unprecedented action.”
“And what if our princess does indeed survive, demoting you back to advisor?” I voiced. “Will you advise her accordingly?”
Felaf’s eyes cut to mine inquisitively.
Maryn inhaled sharply. “If I wanted your negligible opinion, I would ask for it,Guardian. Which reminds me. Barto tells me your Pegasus seemed awfully worn out in the stables. I do hope she hasn’t gotten too withered in her old age. Perhaps she needs to be put out of her misery? I was hoping the little bonfire was enough to make my message clear, but maybe not.”
We can be sad together.
I smothered the rising emotions that were too intense for me to face. The loss of Hector’s books stung deeply, reopening a wound I’d never fully healed. Cobalt was flesh and blood, my purest companion. I never considered how far Maryn would go if I continued to push her.
“Perhaps, Queen Regent—” Gregorios began.
“Perhaps,Seer, you’re useless. You’ve been useless since the curse started. It’s like you’re not even talking to Scorpio anymore. Your words are vague, your insight inconsequential.”
“Maybe Scorpio has truly forsaken us all,” an advisor muttered.
Gregorios remained as still as a stone statue.
“We mustn’t believe what the people do,” Maryn countered. “The Astrals may rely on us in many ways for their continued power, but they are immortal. Everlasting. We don’t wear their sacred colors or plant their flowers for giggles. They are tethered to us as much as we are to them.” She cut Gregorios a scathing look. “I won’t remind you that I have no tolerance for deceit in this court.”
A tense, unsettling silence permeated the air.
Maryn rubbed her temples before lifting a hand. “You’re all dismissed.”
Chapter 36
Rahzlyn
The days bledinto each other.
The loss of my grandparents—my family—eviscerated my ability to function. To care. A cold, hollow void remained in their absence, puncturing my lungs every time I pictured their faces. Their demise.
They were gone from this world. I would never see them, hold them, argue with them ever again. Without them to fight for, to redeem myself for, I couldn’t find a reason to get up.
Not when I’d brought this upon myself—upon them.
“So much wastefulness.” Letti cleared the tray of food beside my bed. “Do you know how many Scorpion families would beg for a bite of your untouched meals? You’re not the only one to know loss.”
“I’m aware,” I mumbled into the damp pillow. But this was the first true loss I’d experienced, and I didn’t know how to find my way through the depths of my own despair.
Letti rattled a new tray of what I assumed to be dinner, given the dimness that had descended upon the chamber. “This victim mentality of yours will eat you alive if you let it.”
“I do not have avictimmentality.” Did I? I glared over my shoulder at her as she went about tidying up the room. “Is this how Scorpions treat someone in mourning?”
“Death, change, it’s all part of life,” she said. “Scorpions understand that better than most. Andyouare not just someone. You’re a Chosen now, with responsibilities and people depending on you. This outcome was inevitable.”
“Inevitable or not, I’m allowed to grieve.”
“At least be productive with your grieving then. Take your pity-fest into the bathing chamber and train.” Letti paused. “The queendom deserves better than whatever this is.”
The grief weighed on me like a blanket of steel. I may not have set fire to our home, but I lit the match.
“You’re right,” I said, my fingers twisting the soft black sheets into my chest. “The queendom does deserve better than me. I don’t care about training. How can I, when everything that truly mattered is gone?”
“You must find something else to live for then. Do you truly believe your own life isn’t worthy enough?”
