Page 160 of The Shattered Rite
They walked on in silence.
The echo of Whitvale’s offered truce clung to her like cobwebs.
She wanted to believe it.
But the halls of this castle had long since taught her: whatever came into this place whole didn’t leave that way.
Chapter 25: Not to Reign but to Endure
“They say the throne grants power. But I say: it only reveals who has already paid the cost of bearing it.”—Queen Alindra the Unburned
Eliryn sat on the edge of her bed, unmoving.
The fire in the hearth had burned down to its coals, a soft orange glow throwing long shadows across the stone walls. The castle gave her everything she might physically need—warmth, food, quiet—but none of it touched the raw, hollow ache in her chest.
She hadn’t slept.
She couldn’t.
Every breath felt heavy, her stomach tight and sour. Though a pitcher of water and a fresh loaf of bread had appeared hoursago, she hadn’t touched them. The blood under her fingernails still felt tacky. The smell of it clung to her skin, to her memory.
Vaeronth remained silent. Not absent—never absent—but quiet, like a thunderstorm forced into stillness.
I am here,he whispered once, earlier.
But tonight, even that felt far away.
A knock came at the door. Light. Measured.
Eliryn’s shoulders tensed. Her voice cracked raw: “Who is it?”
“It’s Garic.”
She hesitated. Then, softer, “Come in.”
The door opened carefully. Garic stepped inside, holding a wrapped bundle in his hands. She could smell the warmth of it before he even crossed the room.
“I know the rooms provide what we need,” he said, voice hesitant. “But I thought maybe… it’d feel different, coming from a friend.”
He placed the bundle gently on the table. Fresh bread. Stewed fruit. A clay cup of broth. Steam curled into the cold air.
She didn’t bother with the food.
She looked toward him instead.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “That’s… unbelievably kind.”
Garic pulled the chair near her bed without asking. His presence was careful, not intrusive. Like he knew she might break if pressed too hard.
“You didn’t deserve what happened,” he said softly, voice thicker than usual. “And Silas… he deserved better too.”
“I don’t think ‘deserving’ means anything in this place anymore,” Eliryn whispered. “Maybe it never did.”
Silence stretched, but it wasn’t empty.
Then she spoke again, her voice scraped raw but steady.
“I trust you.”
