Page 82 of Crowned

It’s not true.

We’ve sealed the palace doors, barricaded every entrance, but I know it won’t hold forever. The Shadow Legion is relentless. I can feel their presence pressing in, a dark tide threatening to drown us. And yet, the lies tumble from my lips anyway, because what else can I offer these people but false hope?

The civilians start moving, gathering their children, tending to the wounded. I step back, pressing my hands to the cool stone wall, the weight of the night pressing down on me. Outside, the sounds of the battle roar louder – clashing metal, shouts, and the gut-wrenching crack of magic ripping through the air.

Vance, Reef, Bhodi, and Cove are out there. Fighting. Bleeding. Dying.

And I’m here, helpless.

The thought sends a sharp pang of guilt through me. I can’t stop imagining them, standing shoulder-to-shoulder against the darkness, giving everything they have to hold the line. I should be there with them. But Vance made me promise to stay, to protect myself and the lives I now carry.

I press a hand to my stomach, the faintest swell hidden beneath layers of fabric. The triplets. My children.

“You’re not just protecting yourself anymore,” Vance had told me when I begged to fight by his side. “You’re protecting them too.”

It doesn’t make it any easier.

The palace trembles again, a thunderous boom reverberating through the stone like a death knell. The lanterns flicker wildly, casting jagged shadows across the room, and a wave of panic ripples through the civilians. The air is thick with fear, their whispers like static crawling under my skin.

I scan the room, my gaze darting between the frightened faces, the wounded soldiers lying on makeshift pallets, the mothers clutching their children – and I force myself to breathe, to focus. If I fall apart now, so will they.

“Everyone, listen to me!” My voice echoes across the chamber, cutting through the growing whispers. Eyes turn toward me, a sea of desperation and doubt, but also a flicker of hope. “We’ve prepared for this. The palace is strong, and the guards are holding the line. Stay together. Help one another. We are going to get through this.”

The words taste hollow, but they’re enough to spur people into action. A few of the more able-bodied civilians begin organising, tending to the wounded and distributing water. It’s not much, but it helps. It gives them something to hold onto.

The sounds of the battle grow louder, the clash of steel and the dull roar of explosions rattling the walls. I grip the back of a chair, my knuckles white, straining to hear something – anything – that might tell me how the others are faring. My mind conjures the worst: Reef overwhelmed, Bhodi falling under a barrage of enemy magic, Cove shouting for backup that never comes, and Vance?—

I stop myself, sucking in a sharp breath. They’re alive. They have to be.

“Malia!”

The sound of my name rips me from my thoughts. I turn toward the doors just as they burst open, slamming against the stone walls. Summer stumbles inside, her face pale and streaked with blood. She’s clutching her side, her movements shaky and unsteady.

“Summer!” I rush to her, my heart lurching as she collapses into my arms. The smell of blood is overwhelming, and her skin is cold, clammy. “What happened? How are you here? What are you?—”

“They’ve...” Her voice is weak, barely a whisper. “They’ve given an ultimatum.”

The room seems to freeze around me, the murmurs of the civilians falling silent as all eyes turn toward us. Summer’s trembling hand reaches into her pocket, pulling out a crumpled scroll sealed with dark red wax.

I take it from her, my hands shaking as I break the seal and unroll the parchment. The words scrawled across the page are stark and final, their meaning slicing through me like a blade:

Malia must come to us. Alone. Or the city burns.

The room tilts, the weight of those words crashing down on me. My breath hitches, and I clutch the scroll tightly, my nails biting into the parchment.

“They…they said they’d destroy everything,” Summer chokes out, tears streaming down her bloodied face. “I tried to stop them, Malia. They found the communicator and dragged me here with them. I ran when they were distracted. I tried?—”

“It’s not your fault,” I whisper, brushing her hair back from her face. My chest aches at the sight of her like this – so broken, so fragile. The anger I once held toward her dissolves in an instant, replaced by an overwhelming need to protect her. “You’re safe now. Stay here. We’ll handle this.”

Her eyes well with tears, and she shakes her head weakly. “I’m sorry…I didn’t want to betray you. I just…I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I know,” I say softly, pulling her close for just a moment. “I forgive you.”

Her body sags against mine, and I motion for the healers to come forward. They move quickly, helping her to her feet and guiding her toward the far side of the chamber. She glances back at me one last time, her lips trembling.

“Be careful,” she whispers.

I nod, my resolve hardening as I look down at the scroll once more. The ultimatum burns in my mind, and my pulse races as I realise there’s no way out of this.

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