Page 52 of Queen of Stars and Shadows

“You first,” Zyren says, pointing to the bed.

I crawl into it, exhaustion suddenly tugging on me like iron chains. Zyren follows, and we’re asleep within moments.

An hour before sunset my ladies in waiting come for me, a much smaller contingent than the ones that were here a month ago.

They help me bathe, something that is sorely needed, and then I am dressed in a gown of deepest purple, just a shade shy of black. They try to pin my hair atop my head but I insist on leaving it down. I do allow a simple necklace, a thick silver chain with an obsidian pendant that hangs above my heart.

We go down to the courtyard. All who remain in Selaye, no more than a hundred citizens all told, are gathered. The warriors are dressed in their finest gear, and the others have donned dresses or colorful tunics. Zyren waits for me on the top of the steps, and he’s changed as well, wearing a dark leather tunic and new boots. He loops his arm through mine, and we move down into the courtyard together.

Xinius is waiting for us in the center of the space. The crowd is parted on either side of him to allow us through. There are no decorations, no pomp or frivolity. The air is quiet, somber. We are here in the place where so many sacrificed their lives not long ago, here at the heart of a realm that is collapsing around us. It should be a joyous occasion, but it is not. We are here to set right the wrongs of the past, to kindle one last flame of hope for the future of Valaron.

When I reach the space where Xinius stands, he gestures for me to kneel.

“Citizens of Selaye, and the Court of Nightmares,” he begins. “You are here to bear witness to the crowning of the Queen of Valaron. The last of her line, sole blood heir of House Otreyas. Savior of the realm, whose magic commands the nightmares and all within these borders.”

Xinius takes a crown from a cushioned pillow held by a woman next to him. It is wrought of black metal and set with black stones; several large ones at the base of each of the five points of the crown, and tiny ones encrusted over the rest of it. It glitters like the midnight sky, like stars and like shadows. When he places it on my head, it feels heavy, and cold.

“I call on the ancestors of House Otreyas and House Lyonian, all who wore this crown before. I call on the magic that has run through Valaron since the dawn of time. I call on the nightmares that share this realm. I call on the power of the moon and sun, light and dark, because all things must have balance in this world.”

I feel a rush around me, and I see flashes of faces, feel the brush of fingertips anointing my forehead. My heart races as my ancestors spin past me, and one in particular pauses before me. A woman with long, silver hair like mine, and eyes that glow the same shade of gold. I know who it is, though how I know, I’m not sure.

“Anarya,” I breathe.

She smiles and nods. The woman who started it all, the woman who fell in love with a nightmare, who changed the bloodline and the magic of our family forever. The start of it all.

And then she is gone, all of them are, just as quickly as they arrived.

“Sarielle Otreyas,” Xinius intones, “do you vow to rule Valaron justly and wisely, with empathy for your citizens and swift vengeance for your enemies? Do you vow to bind yourself to this realm, serving it with all your heart and magic?”

“I do so vow,” I say.

“I crown thee, Sarielle Otreyas, Queen of Nightmares and ruler of all Valaron. With all the powers and sacrifices that come with this title. Rise, queen.”

Slowly, I stand and turn to face the crowd behind me. A cheer rises from the people, and a moment later a deafening roar from Astherius as she circles in the sky overhead. Zyren smiles and reaches out to squeeze my hand.

“Let the feast begin!” I call, which earns another cheer from the crowd.

Wine flows and everyone fills their bellies from an enormous buffet set up on the far side of the courtyard. Warrior and cook and blacksmith alike all dine together, no rank or title separating anyone within the city walls. There is music and dancing far into the night, because we all know that this may be the last celebration we ever have. The last song, the last meal, the last embrace with a loved one.

And so it is, after hours of dancing, in the wee hours before dawn, that Zyren and I find ourselves back in our room at the tip-top of the palace.

“Do you feel any different?” Zyren asks me.

I let out a laugh. “Not at all. It still seems so surreal being queen.”

He dusts a soft kiss over my lips. “I enjoyed dancing with you. Was that the first time?”

“No.” I smile. “We danced together when we stayed with the Veyeni. And I got very drunk on sunfire wine, and you had to practically carry me back to our tent.”

Zyren smiles. “That sounds like a good night.” His smile falls. “I wish I remembered.”

I place a finger over his lips. “What’s important is that we have each other now. At least for this final night.”

“Final night? I should hope not,” he says. “While it’s true, we don’t know when Avonia will return, or the demon…”

“I’m talking about the realm merge, Zyren,” I say softly. “I’m doing it tomorrow. I’ve already spoken with Xinius. He’s sent for his fellow sorcerers to assist us in preparing the spell.”

His eyes widen. “Sarielle, no. I told you, we’ll find another way without merging the realms.”

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