Page 113 of The Blood Crown

Only the remnant of a voice in her head, whispering,Hello, child.

Chapter 58

Dawn crept over the mountains, spilling through the windows of the corridors as Aurelia left their chambers.

Ven had kissed her brow in the darkest hours of morning, a steaming cup of coffee beside her as an apology that he’d had to leave.

Nira was already waiting for her when she walked onto the Ledge.

The female wordlessly handed the heavy blade to Aurelia. Relentless as she shouted, “Again!” every time Aurelia successfully completed the sequence of movements with the broadsword. The real relic remained safely locked up in the armory; a risk none of them were willing to take before the battle was brought to their doorstep. But Nira had tasked one of Hathos’ apprentices to make a blade roughly the same size and weight as the true one.

Crude, but effective.

The weight of the weapon still made her shoulder ache, but with every passing day, she was able to maneuver the heavy steel a little more gracefully. Growing stronger, her balance surer.

Fighting with a broadsword was another skill entirely, separate from the magick she’d learned to wield or the daggers she’d grown so fond of. But blind determination kept Aurelia fighting past the burn of her biceps, the searing pain down her shoulder blades. If she had the chance to destroy another relic and kill another demon prince—she wanted every advantage.

Sweat dripped from the tip of her nose as Aurelia raised the blade once more. It’s gleaming edge arced through the air, clashing with Nira's steel.

The Commander's mouth split into a grin as she uttered, “Good.”

The lower levels of the fortress still rang with the sound of hammers day and night.

It had been three days since the Allokin arrived, and as she passed one of the wings they’d offered to Lanthius, she could see a handful of the blond and red-haired spellmasters and their apprentices bent over the wide tables. Further down the hall, Wraiths stacked barrels in the center of the forge. Hathos stood at the far end, thick arms crossed over his thicker chest, his bushy brows furrowed.

Ven had ordered the smiths to save the dust from the ravenstone blades and the ground steel at Lanthius’ request, and she was just as puzzled by what the Spellmaster had planned for the waste as the Mastersmith was. She’d only glanced in his makeshift laboratory—equal parts curious and cautious about the metallurgy and precise chemistry of Allokin magick. But she trusted Lanthius enough not to question his methods.

Heat poured out into the corridor, the winter chill seeping back in as she made her way further into the keep, towardthe rooms that still remained dark and unused. Well—nearly unused.

Fist poised at the heavy iron door, Aurelia wondered if it was a mistake coming here. The female had chosen these chambers for a reason, after all. It was as far away from the heart of Ravenstone as one could get. Isolated. Forgotten.

They’d been true to their word, allowing Valea freedom of the fortress, but she’d chosen to sequester herself in the disused rooms of its lower levels. The damp was not easily chased away this far down in the belly of the mountain, and she wondered why the female had selected this chamber in particular when there were far more comfortable ones without windows a level above.

Recalling her own emotions when she’d arrived here, in the midst of people that were not quite her own, it wasn’t difficult to understand why Valea had chosen to disappear. Especially given the kingdom she came from.

Ven trusted her enough that there were no guards at her door. Karro had gone back to feigning disinterest in the female’s whereabouts, but Aurelia noted how his eyes scanned every room and searched the balcony above the Ledge when he trained. Nira and Seth probably monitored her activities from a respectable distance, thinking that if nothing else, self-preservation would keep her loyal. But the rest of the Blood Folk were another matter entirely.

They knew of the female’s existence in their kingdom, rumors of their king’s half-sister had already made their rounds. It turned out immortal warriors were even bigger gossips than the nobility in the Captiol. And though none of them had outwardly shown hostility toward her, it was palpable in the warning glances, the lingering stares.

Aurelia gave a single knock on the door.

Only silence replied as she waited one heartbeat, two. On the third, she turned away.

The door creaked behind her, a single bright red eye peering out from the dark chamber.

“Your Majesty,” Valea murmured, seeming surprised when she realized Aurelia had come alone.

Aurelia glimpsed the room behind her. Bare. Cold. All the more amplified by the fact that Valea had only come here with the clothing and weapons on her back. Ven had offered her whatever she needed, Aurelia, too, but the female made no requests of them—and whether it was distrust of the offer or simply wanting to disappear in this place—she wasn’t certain.

“There’s something I’d like to show you,” Aurelia said without preamble.

Valea gave a shallow nod, suspicion creasing her silver brows.

The female was nearly silent as she followed Aurelia through the fortress.

She’d been careful to choose the paths that kept away from the exterior walls—ones that would safely shield Valea’s porcelain skin from the sunlight. Still, she pulled the blood red hood of her cloak over her sharp features anyway, only the end of her thick white braid trailing out.

Every other door in the hall had been closed as Aurelia had ordered, throwing the corridor into darkness even though the sun still blazed high above outside.

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