Page 12 of A Courage of the Chosen

The entire left wall is made of a sheet of glass that spans the length of the living area. Someone switches on the lights, and three sofas in a deep green sit around the long-since empty fireplace. A rug that has more square-footage than my Brooklyn apartment covers the stone floor beneath them.

We move as one into the enormous space, my jaw practically dragging along the floor.

“I’m not surprised Raghnall was pissed he couldn’t get in here,” Rach breathes as she heads over to the window. “Look at this view!”

I join her and soak in the vista that I came to know and love. An uninterrupted view of Lake Ederline stretches out, mountains meeting it on the other side. The forests that surround the palace, and cover most of this realm, are a mix of evergreens, and those that are starting to shift with the arrival of fall.

I turn in a circle, noting the dining table on the other side of the room, placed beneath a low-hanging chandelier crafted of silver. It seats eight, and rustic wooden chairs are tucked beneath it.

Bookcases are scattered here and there along the stone walls, but my eyes are drawn to the portrait above a sideboard, next to the lone arched door at the far end of the room.

It hangs in a simple golden frame. Not massive, like some of the other portraits in the castle. It’s clear that this wasn’t painted for grandeur or public display. It’s personal. Meant for family.

My steps slow as I approach the three painted figures. Granny smiles at me, her green eyes crinkled in the corners, and behind her, with one hand on each shoulder, are what I assume are her parents. Granny has the same hair and eyes as her father, while his wife, the former queen, has darker blonde hair that borders on brown. Her eyes are kind as they stare unseeing from the portrait.

“Dhia,” Hector says, joining me.

“Is that Murdoch and Iona?”

“Aye, I haven’t seen their faces since before they were lost to us,” he murmurs.

What would it have been like to know them? To draw on Murdoch’s time as a ruler to help me navigate this strange new world I’m living in. It’s too fantastical to imagine being brought up any other way than how I was raised. While I didn’t know the truth of my heritage, my life was never short of love.

For a tiny moment, I close my eyes and let myself imagine what that would have been like. Running through these halls with Mom and Granny chasing me. Reading in the library with Finneus. Discovering all the secrets this castle has to offer.

A single tear drops onto my cheek as the alternate universe temporarily heals the hole left behind by those who have been taken from me.

Footsteps entering the room pull me from the tender moment. An army of Seelie, dressed in white shirts and gray pants, descend, and quickly get to work cleaning every inch of the space.

Hector says goodbye to us as the staff busy themselves cleaning the royal rooms for me. We’re all exhausted and ready for some sleep before we do it all again tomorrow.

The thought has me curling in on myself. I’d stepped onto that battlefield so confident about what came next, in life and death, if that was how it ended. But now that I’m here, I’m not sure that I can do it. That I’m capable of being queen. And that doubt runs deeper than all my other failures combined. There are people depending on me now.

Within twenty minutes, the whole place is spotless, while I’ve stood in the middle of everyone feeling a little lost.

“They move fast,” Rach whispers to me.

“Mmhmm,” I mumble back, watching as the last of them clear out and leave me with my friends.

“Okay,” Reyne claps her hands. “Food will be left for you in the next half hour, and then time for some sleep. The clothes from your last stay in the palace have been moved into the closet off the bedroom. I’ll set Rachel up in your old rooms?” she asks, and I nod uncertainly.

The prospect of sitting in this unfamiliar space on my own gives too much life to the thoughts I’ve desperately been working to ignore. The fate of the kingdom, losing the Craobh, the Seelie I left behind. The last two are the ones that make my heart race when I think about them for more than a few seconds.

The look on my friends’ faces tells me that they know what I’m thinking, and that they also know I’m not ready to talk about any of it yet.

“We’ll come here for breakfast in the morning,” Rach adds, reassuringly. I swallow and give them what I hope is a smile, but feels more like a grimace.

I follow them to the door and hug them goodbye, holding on longer than usual. Just yesterday, we’d fought for our lives together, and we haven’t really had the chance to appreciate that the three of us made it out alive.

“Night, lass.” Reyne closes the heavy doors behind her with a click, leaving me more alone than I’ve been since we left Morven.

The impressive room feels infinitely bigger with just me standing on the threadbare rugs. The might of its past inhabitants pressing down on me, and how badly I’ve already let them down.

The new, dark bond throbs with awareness as my insides tighten for the umpteenth time today. It’s as though Tavish knows I’m trying not to think about what happened, and is purposefully stirring it as a reminder.

As if I needed one.

I remove my bloodied armor and leave it in as neat a pile as I can manage in the corner of the living room, where I won’t get any of the newly-clean surfaces dirty.