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It’s the endless parade of decisions, each one more consequential than the last. All piling onto my shoulders like stones.
“Are you going to throw that one too?” Rose sits cross-legged in the corner of my private sitting room, her flame familiar Kin dancing above her small hands as she claps in a rhythmic pattern. The little sprite flares brighter with every clap, illuminating Rose’s face.
I fake a scowl. “Don’t be cheeky.”
The little girl became my unexpected companion today, and I’m pretty sure her presence is the only thing stopping me from setting this entire stack of paperwork ablaze.
“You threw four already.” She issues the matter-of-fact statement with her attention still on Kin. “I counted.”
I huff. Of course she did.
“Are you sure?” I absorb the mess of scattered papers comprised of petitions, treaties, inventories, and appeals from nobles seeking advantage in the new regime.
Rose’s blond curls bounce when she nods. “Four. And you used that word that Mama says I’m not allowed to say.”
I press my lips together to hide my smile. “I’m so sorry. Please accept my humble apology, Lady Rose.”
She giggles at the formal title, her small shoulders shaking. “I’m not a lady.”
“Oh, but you are.” I’m grateful for the momentary distraction. “Anyone who sits so patiently while a queen has a tantrum must surely be a lady of the highest caliber.”
This time she laughs outright, the uninhibited, joyous sound so free of burden that my chest aches. When did I last laugh like that? Probably before my coronation. Maybe even before I acknowledged my feelings for Sterling and discovered the fear that accompanies such a love.
Sterling.
My fingers tighten around the trade agreement, crinkling the parchment. This morning at dawn, Rivlan woke us up by popping into our bedchamber and announcing that Sterling’s training would begin immediately.
I barely had time to register what was happening before they vanished. With a grunt of frustration, I fling the trade agreement onto the floor to join its brethren.
Without batting an eye, Rose continues her clapping game as Kin spins above her hands. “Five.”
“Yep.” A heavy sigh slips loose from my lips. “Five.”
At least I didn’t curse this time. Small victories.
I push back from the desk I asked the servants to bring me earlier, back when I aspired to finally make headway on the mountain of state business. I stand and pace to the fireplace, seeking warmth for my chilled, stiff fingers.
I stare into the depths of the flickering flames, willing them to provide answers. What’s happening to my love right now? Is he in pain? Danger? Is Rivlan reshaping him into someone who won’t need me anymore?
I stifle a groan and berate myself over that last selfish thought.
Sterling deserves whatever gifts the gods bestow upon him. After everything he’s survived, he’s earned all the blessings. Still, the fear gnaws at me.
What if his new purpose steals him away from me? What if he transforms into something I can’t follow?
Rose giggles again. “You’re making the fire do something funny.”
I blink at the rising flames. The fire’s responding to my distress. I force the blaze back down to size with a subtle nudge of my mind. “Sorry. I was thinking too hard.”
“Mama says thinking too hard gives you wrinkles.” Rose bobs her head like a sage priestess instead of a six-year-old.
I chuckle despite myself. “Your mother is very wise.”
“She also says—”
Whatever other nugget of wisdom Rose’s mother shared is lost as the door to my chambers crashes open with enough force to ricochet off the wall. I spin around, instinctively reaching for my short sword.
Sterling stands in the doorway, his chest heaving as if he just returned from a ten-mile run. His wet hair clings to his forehead and neck, and water drips from his soaked clothes.
