Page 290 of Burn of the Everflame

“What if I can’t?” My voice turned small and quiet. “What if everyone’s lives are on the line, and I’m too weak to save them?”

He paused for a moment. “Diem, if I asked you to leave right this second and go somewhere far away from Emarion to live a long, peaceful life alone with me . . . would you go?”

Yes, I tried to scream. Let’s go now, while we still can. I choose you over him, over Emarion, over everything.

But the words didn’t come.

“I . . . of course I want to,” I stammered, “but . . . but I⁠—”

“I know.” He smiled, though it was touched with sadness. “Diem Bellator doesn’t give up, and she doesn’t abandon what she believes in. She never stops fighting. It’s one of the many reasons I admire you.” He pulled me into his side. “Have faith, my heart. You’ll find the strength to see this through.”

Though his words warmed me with his praise, they also stoked my growing worry.

Because Luther was right. When I made up my mind to fight, I fought—no matter what it cost me.

And I feared that might be a trait I shared with my sire.

“About time,” Taran shouted from the palace steps, Zalaric at his side, as Sorae landed on the front lawn. “I was starting to get jealous that you were having more sex on our mating night than we did.”

My cheeks flushed, especially seeing my mother standing beside them. Luther flicked a barb of shadow at Taran with a glare, though I could feel his smile fighting to be let loose. We’d agreed to hide our mating for today to allow Taran and Zalaric their moment, but as Eleanor and Alixe emerged from the palace, the urge to share the news was bursting in us both.

My mother focused intently on my face, then Luther’s. “Did something happen? You two seem different.”

“They’re happy,” Zalaric said. “That’s different.”

Luther and I dismounted Sorae, and my mother walked up and took my face in her hands, turning it back and forth like some curious object. “Is he right—you’re happy?” I knew she saw the answer, but I also couldn’t blame her for hesitating to believe it.

“I’m happy,” I confirmed, smiling. It was the first time I’d meant it in months. Seeing everyone celebrating together at last night’s reception, then imagining the life I might build with Luther, had given the war new perspective. Fretting over what it might take had blinded me to what winning it might give: a future to believe in. A future worth sacrificing for.

I took her hands. “Luther did something for me. I’ll show you tonight, after we visit Father’s grave.”

Our attention was stolen by a surprised squeak as Lily and Teller rounded the corner and froze. They, too, were wearing last night’s clothes, stained with grass and fastenings half undone.

“Oh!” Lily exclaimed, face growing increasingly crimson. “Everyone’s here! We were just, um . . . see, we were dancing in the gardens, and, uh . . .”

Taran snorted loudly. “Passed the night same as your siblings, eh?”

“Your Majesty,” Alixe cut in, “your advisors are already gathered in the meeting room. The council will join us this afternoon.”

I nodded. “Let’s invite Symond to the council meeting, too.”

Eleanor winced. “Um, Diem, I’m not sure that’s . . .”

“Absolutely not,” Luther growled.

Teller gaped. “Are you crazy?”

I frowned. “Are we not on the same side of this war? This is the Centenaries’ home now, too.”

The others looked down, abashed, but Luther’s glare stayed firm. “Appointing a Centenary to advise you is wise. Choosing him is not.”

I returned his scowl, though I was secretly relieved our mating had not changed his willingness to challenge me. “We can invite Drusila as well, but Symond is their leader.”

“He tried to kill you, Diem.”

Before that, he’d tried to fuck me. Before that, he’d tried to invade my mind and control me. I couldn’t be sure which of the three would set Luther off most.

“I need the Centenaries’ help,” I said. “I’m not going to get it without Symond. If he tries anything, you have my permission to do whatever you want.”