Page 110 of Rise of the Siren Queen
Ilefthim.
Ileft him.
All because of this prophecy, and it was alie?
I walked away when I didn’t have to. If I’d justtalkedto her earlier…
It was for the best.
I kept telling myself. Draven’s return changed everything. If Adrianstayed, he’d be a target. I couldn’t let him become another casualty.
“But our people, they hate hybrids,” I muttered, clinging to something,anythingthat still made sense.
She shook her head. “No. Thecouncilhates them. The people… they fear what they don’t understand. And only a handful truly hate them. That hatred is born of fear. Fear of power. Fear of losing control.”
I swallowed hard. “Even if he wanted to rule beside me, he wouldn’t be safe.”
“You’re not giving him enough credit, Iryen.” Her voice turned firm, with a touch of fire beneath the water. “He is aTriton. He is your equal.”
Her next words shattered my remaining composure.
“No one knows, but the king of Kyraea…he’s a hybrid too.”
I gaped. “What?Thatking? The one betrothed to you before Grandpa?”
A soft smile curled her lips. “Yes. The very one.”
I felt like the ocean had turned upside down. I didn’t know what to believe anymore, only that the truths I’d clung to were shredding, thread by thread. And underneath it all, a quiet, bitter thought whispered.
Maybe I never had control to begin with.
“Yes,” she said, her voice distant, barely tethered to the room. “That was the reason I didn’t marry him.” Her eyes turned glassy, swept away by a current of memory I couldn’t follow. “Sometimes, I wonder if I made the wrong choice. But then I look at what the goddess gave me—your mother. And you.” She smiled softly, her hand finding my hair, smoothing it in slow, maternal strokes.
I shouldn’t have said it. I knew the moment it escaped my mouth.
“I’m sorry I got them killed.”
The words tasted like salt and blood. Thin. Weak. A patheticapology for a debt I could never repay. A tear broke free and drifted upward in the water, a single thread of sorrow, visible proof of the ache I tried so hard to bury.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, my child.” Her voice wrapped around me like a warm tide, but no tide could pull me out of this.
“Itwasmy fault,” I said, barely breathing. “If I hadn’t pushed so hard to marryhim, if I’d just waited like they wanted, waited for my mate, they would still be alive.” My throat clenched tight. The ache in my chest cracked open, and I crumbled in her arms. No longer the Crown Princess of Aetheria, just a broken daughter drowning in grief she had buried for too long.
She held me. Not as a queen. Not as a figure of power or poise. Just my grandmother. One hand on my back, stroking slow circles like she used to when I was small and couldn’t sleep. I let the pain rise. I let it rip through me. Because pretending I was fine had stopped working a long time ago.
“You know that’s not true,” she whispered.
But I did. Part of me did, at least. And that made it worse.
Because knowing they die forme,for the choices I made, didn’t make it hurt less. It made it unbearable.
“And now he’s back,” I choked out, bitter and broken. “And my powers—they’re wild. I can’t control them. The goddess is punishing me.”
Her hand stopped mid-circle. Froze.
“What?”
I felt her posture change, still calm on the surface, but coiled with sudden tension underneath. Great Iryen, perfect way to break the news. Why don’t just spill that her daughter’s killer is back on Aetheria territory?
