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With Loche.

With Frelina.

Soon.

Thissian had said the gods couldn’t lie, and met with these vague answers, Lessia believed him.

She didn’t ask for more details, as it was probably best not to know. Instead, she asked the question she’d wondered since she’d found out from Loche who the curse was really about.

“Why me?”

A soft rush of air blew through the room, almost as if someone had expelled a deep sigh.

Lessia waited quietly, the thoughts she’d tried not to allow into her mind when the others were around—since Merrick appeared to be reading her as well as Frelina and Raine, who literally could read minds—breaking free.

In the darkness of the night, when everyone else slept and the waves were the only ones hearing her thoughts, she had wondered why. Why her? Why had she gone through everything she had, just to… die?

All the hurt and the pain and fear, and then the friendship and love and happiness.

Our path for you might not seem simple, Elessia Rantzier. But it is. The prophecy required someone who would be kept hidden from Rioner long enough that he or she would grow up. That’s where your father came in. It needed you to experience love, both with your family and your friends, but also with Loche and Merrick, for your soul to crave it. It needed you to feel pain, by Rioner’s hand and others, so you would never turn to it, never yield to the darkness your uncle has allowed to fill his soul. We needed someone who wouldn’t seek power—who wouldn’t want to be queen—ruling the shadows.

Lessia stared at the reflection right before her.

It was the one who looked so in love—who smiled softly as she waved to Lessia.

She recalled the conversation she’d had with Merrick when they were on their way to Raine’s island.

He’d been right.

The gods had a hand in everything she’d done—that she’d experienced.

He is clever, the Guardian of Death. It’s why he was chosen for you, child. You did forge your own path. And even the gods couldn’t have foreseen just how brave you’d become.

Despite everything, a shadow of a smile touched her lips. “He is.”

Another clever man’s face flickered in her mind. Gray eyes she’d used to let consume her, but which now only spread that dark hollowness she tried to keep at bay.

He will smile again.

She’d only thought the question, but she wasn’t surprised the booming voice responded to the fleeting inquiry crossing her mind.

He’ll live. And to answer your other question: you needed him at that point in your life. You needed to see that not all those who lead are cruel, with blackened hearts. And he needed you as well.

“But they won’t need me any longer,” Lessia whispered as the reflection before her smiled again, perhaps in response to the god answering why she’d fallen for Loche first if Merrick was the one she’d always choose in the end.

There is a difference between need and want. Something they both shall learn.

Lessia nodded slowly.

In the silence that followed, she leaned her head back, looking up at the reflection above her, which seemed to be her own, and listened to her slow heartbeats, savoring each thud of life as it thrummed through the space.

She didn’t have any more questions about herself. They’d all been answered now.

She just needed to continue what she was doing—could feel that that was what remained of her fate—and make sure those she loved would be cared for.

“Will I see my parents again?” Lessia asked instead, bringing her eyes down and jerking back when she wasn’t met with her own strange amber eyes but instead her father’s and the blue ones of her mother.

They looked so real. So loving. So much like they had when she was growing up.