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This wound was meant to kill.
“Who did this to you?” I breathed, feeling as if flames might spew from my fangs like a gryvern. “It doesn’t matter. They can’t hurt me anymore, and I won’t let them hurt anyone else.” “Tell me,” I snarled.
“I will tell you someday,” he vowed. “When I can. When it’s safe.”
I couldn’t suppress my laugh. He had a point—even now I felt no shame, only pride, at each of those decisions.
Our eyes met, a tempest brewing in the shimmering sea of his gaze.
His fingers wove within mine, clutching my hand where it lay on his chest. “Nothing about this is simple.”
In it, I had raised my hand to the left side of my chest, and he had done the same. When the vision ended, Luther—the real Luther—had been standing in front of me making the same gesture.
“Us, on a battlefield.” He nodded. “I remember.” I frowned. “What does it mean?” “A message from Blessed Mother Lumnos, I suspect. Though it’s not always clear what her visions are meant to convey. What seems obvious at first can be—” He eyed me slowly. “—deceiving.”
“Extremely gross. You know that can lead to facial deformities and low intellect.” I propped my hands on my hips and squinted at him thoughtfully. “Come to think of it, that explains a lot about you.”
😂 I laughed out loud
And even if they did, it didn’t change the reality of my situation: if I didn’t master my magic, I would be dead in weeks. Then I’d lose all those things anyway—and far sooner than I planned.
“You are a blank canvas, and this ball is your palette of paint.
“They’re going to be far more interested in impressing you, you know,” Eleanor said. “You are the Queen, after all. And a Corbois Queen at that.
Engraved at the center was a crest encasing the outline of a phoenix, its flaming wings spread wide as it emerged from curling wisps of smoke. Two tiny sapphires marked its eyes, and a dark ruby lay over its heart.
“The sigil of House Corbois. The ruby represents the blood of Lumnos that runs in our veins.
“If that’s what you think, then I have no interest in standing by your side tonight.” He released my arm, and his eyes filled with icy malice. “I don’t need to extort a woman to get her attention. Believe it or not, I do have some self-respect.”
You speak of marking territory—Diem, my dear, he’s the one marking you as his.”
“I am a phoenix, after all.”
“You’re the Queen, and this is your show. I’m just here for the front row seat.”
I stopped, straining to listen. I caught bits and pieces of muffled voices, and then— “Bring me Diem Bellator!” I knew that voice.
“I got it. But I don’t accept it.”
“All the more reason I should be here. They need to learn now how to bow down to their mortal King.”
My blood chilled to ice. “What do you mean?”
OMG
We’re going to take the palace.”
“War is coming, Diem. Time to pick a side.”
I placed a hand on Henri’s heart and trailed it down his chest, my tears mixing with his blood as I pressed my lips to his. “Please forgive me,” I whispered.
This line, I could never uncross.
Just before he disappeared behind a corner, I caught his eye, and one emotion stared back at me with dreadful clarity—betrayal. No love. No trust. No hope. No attempt to understand. No willingness to forgive. Only betrayal.
“No,” I said honestly as the tears streamed down my cheeks.
“What happened?” he growled. “Is she hurt? Get your hands off her—let me see her.”
It was no different than what Aemonn had done—and yet, somehow, everything was different.
“It doesn’t matter. My place is with you. Wherever that leads.” His fingers curled around mine. “Whatever it costs.”
My soil. Because Lumnos, Realm of Light and Shadows, was no longer merely my home. It was my flesh and bone. It was a part of me—it was me.
“Go,” he urged again, softer. “You have enough on your shoulders. Let me carry this one burden for you tonight.”
He brushed his thumb along my palm in a long, slow trail. “You’re my Queen. Everything I do is for you.”
“You’re a Corbois, Diem,” he murmured into my ear. “Embrace your phoenix. Rise from the ashes, and burn bright once more.”
The all-white ensemble, together with my colorless eyes and snowy, pearl-embellished hair, painted the picture of a pure, innocent Queen. A blank canvas. A blushing bride. A white flag of surrender. Soft. Virginal. Harmless. All the things I wasn’t. Only my dark, thorny Crown hinted at what lay beneath.
“Perhaps you can save one dance for my brother? It would mean the world to him.” My face flushed, and the sneaky smile that played on her lips told me she’d noticed.
Gods—the Queen of Umbros. It had been her in the alley on the day my mother went missing.
“I expect you to honor the late King’s agreement of betrothal between Luther and my Iléana,” Marthe declared. “They’ve been promised to each other nearly since birth.”
Finally, my focus shifted to Iléana. “In fact, he said you were nothing to him at all.” The look on Iléana’s face...
Her eyebrows rose. “A stranger I hear he is now welcoming into his bedroom.”
This was a battle I would have to fight alone.
I painted on a haughty look of confidence and raised my palm high into the air. “You dare accuse House Corbois?” I spoke so softly the room had no choice but to fall silent as they all strained to hear my words. Finger by finger, I curled my hand into a closed fist. “You dare accuse House Corbois?” I repeated.
“It was House Corbois that sent the King to Fortos to be examined there. House Corbois who chose the mortal healers who treated him for months. Corbois guards who stood at the King’s side, Corbois servants who prepared his food and drink, Corbois attendants who cleaned his body after his death.” I gestured to Remis and Garath. “It was these men, the leaders of House Corbois, who had complete control over the King’s care during his illness.”
“I wouldn’t want a simple misunderstanding to cause any bloodshed,” I said, calmly but forcefully, “so I’ll ask you again. Does House Hanoverre accuse House Corbois of murdering its own beloved Ulther?”
“I’m sure you must have simply misspoken. Because if it were discovered that you had invented such a vicious lie, without even a shred of evidence to support it, in order to stir up unrest against your Queen... well, that would be treason.”
“Let me ask one final time: Does House Hanoverre accuse House Corbois, and the King of Fortos as its accomplice, of murdering King Ulther?” Marthe’s lips flattened into a thin, pale line. “No. We do not.”
I might have survived this battle, but House Hanoverre was preparing for war.
“She is your Queen.”
“Her days are numbered. Do yourself a favor, Lu. Don’t get attached.”
