Page 73 of Return of the Darkness
“You know of it?”
Athena shook her head. “More memories have returned since the kingdom began crumbling, but only snippets of names, conversation, and places. Not enough to be of assistance—yet.” Athena was quiet for a moment. “Was she okay?”
“She was reunited with Errard. She was okay.” Sadira smiled.
“And you will be okay again, too, your majesty. One day, you will glow from within and light the way for this realm, wherever we end up.” Athena reached for the queen’s hand and patted it. “Remember, you still owe me a secret.” She smirked before turning to leave the queen in peace. Sadira watched the old woman hobble towards the door and hurried after her.
“Athena,” she called, prompting the Wiccan woman to turn. Sadira stooped to whisper in her ear. Athena squeezed the queen’s hand.
“A good secret.”
***
“I appreciate this isn’t traditional for a death in Garridon, the lack of celebrating life,” Sir Cain said. Sadira placed a gentle hand on his trembling arm.
“It’s exactly what he would have wanted,” Sadira choked. Sir Cain and her personal guard, Taryn, lowered the coffin into the ground. Taryn nodded, the grief in his eyes matching the day she had returned to the castle once leaving the Unsanctioned Isle. From the look on her face, he had immediately known she returned to Garridon alone. Taryn walked through the long blades of grass towards the treeline, offering Sir Cain and Sadira a moment of peace. The sun set behind them, bathing the gravestones in a soft orange hue. Nine gravestones: a son and a brother, returned tohis family. Sadira knelt before Caellum’s coffin and blinked, filling the grave with soil until it formed a light mound. Unstrapping his breastplate, Sir Cain removed his armour until he donned plain clothes. He knelt beside his queen.
“I don’t think you will ever know how grateful I am for what you did for him,” Sir Cain said gruffly. Sadira turned to face him. His red hair had faded in the two months of their absence. “He was such an anxious lad with no confidence, except with those he trusted, like me, Elisara, and his siblings. The man who stood before his people at his coronation, and the man at his engagement ball, were two different people.” Sir Cain smiled, a watery sheen in his eyes. “That was all you. He became confident because of you and his want to protect you. It was always his nature. He loved fiercely.”
“He did,” Sadira whispered, reaching for Sir Cain’s hand. They knelt in silence as they thought of their beloved king. “He asked me to pass on a message to you when he was…” Sadira trailed off, unable to voice the words that he was gone. Sir Cain frowned. “When we were on the Isle of Gods, he saw his family. All of them were so happy—normal. Wren was the man he was when you truly knew him.” Sir Cain pinched his brow and closed his eyes. Sadira sniffed. “Wren wanted to say thank you for being a father to Caellum and his children when he couldn’t be.” Sir Cain’s shoulders rose and fell as he sobbed into his hands. Sadira rubbed his back until he grunted and lifted his head, wiping his face clean of tears.
“It was my honour,” Sir Cain said. “As it will be to serve the Mordane-Balfour household.” Smiling, he glanced down at Sadira with the knowledge of the secret she had only shared with him and Athena. “I will leave you with him,” Sir Cain said. “Taryn can keep watch. I need some time alone.” Sadira nodded as Sir Cain rested a hand on the grave before walking away.
The evening breeze floated through the grass as Sadira sat back on her heels with a sigh, struggling to find the words.
“Tell Aurelia I accepted the offer of her gowns.” Sadira’s laughtersoon turned into sobs, trying to mask her pain beneath pretences. “The jewels were too extravagant, though, so please tell your mother I’m sorry.” Sadira sniffed and rested her palms on the soil. She encouraged blades of grass to grow through it to match the rest of the long lawn surrounding the other eight gravestones. “I think I hate you a little bit,” she whispered. “For leaving me to face all this alone. But I know you would be here if you could be.” Sadira looked along the grassy field to where Taryn watched from behind the trees. She would have to flee Novisia soon, leaving the Balfour family here. An ache reopened in her chest every time she thought of being apart from Caellum. With a flourish of her hand, white irises and sweet peas sprouted across the grass—sweet peas for goodbye, and to recognise Elisara’s support after receiving numerous letters from her over the last week, and irises for new beginnings—a new life without her love. One day, if she survived all this, she would replicate the walled garden and place nine new headstones within it. She would sit beside a lake under a willow tree and speak to her lost family every morning. She thought of Soren then, but she pushed the thought aside. She had heard nothing from Soren since Nyzaia claimed her as a citizen of Keres. She hoped it stayed that way. She felt nothing but hatred when she pictured Soren’s face, even if her expression matched the innocence of when they were children. To avoid letting thoughts of Soren, no longer her sister, from ruining her time with Caellum, Sadira buried her anger and betrayal deep within her chest and locked it away.
“I don’t know your favourite flowers,” Sadira whispered, guiding the vines over each gravestone. “But I need there to be some colour to these stones while you live without it.” Sadira thought of Caellum in Antor’s walled garden, playing hide and seek with his sisters under the sepia-brushed sky. “These flowers are not meant to be on vines, but I’ll make it work,” Sadira whispered, allowing tiny, delicate blue flowers to bloom across the gravestones. “Forget-me-nots.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she shuffledcloser to Caellum’s grave. “I don’t think you need to ask what these represent.” She clenched her eyes shut before wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve and resting a palm atop the stone. The flowers perfectly bordered the words engraved on it.Here lies Caellum Balfour, protector of all he loved. A king, son, brother, husband, and father.
Sadira rose, resting her hand on her stomach and the womb she knew had grown life since their wedding day.With a final tear, Sadira raised her head, ready to be crowned Queen of Garridon and ensure her children lived in a safe world. Turning to face the sunset and return to the castle, she sent a silentI love youto the sky. Had she looked up, she would have found nine hawks perched in the trees, watching over her and the last of the Balfour and Mordane line.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Elisara
“That was a rather long absence.” Elisara whirled at Sallos’s voice, realising it had worked. She had summoned only him. Her army of shadows had waited at the edge of the Neutral City as she left, commanded by Sallos in the two months she was absent. Her ability to manage her darkness had reinstated her control over all the soldiers, even those who had previously wreaked havoc throughout the realms. When Elisara crossed back into Vala, alongside Vlad, Vigor, and Helena, she had channelled them back into the sword after informing Sallos of her intentions. The ability to reclaim and wield her power on the Isle of Gods had renewed her confidence, along with Vala’s reminder that Elisara was more than her heartbreak. She doubted the lords of Vala would appreciate her returning with an army of shadows, particularly after abandoning them for two months. She was right. Her return was not well-received. It had taken many conversations to convince the lords she was fit to rule. Eventually, she’d given up on civilities and willed her shadows to swarm her body like a dress, forming a crown of darkened wisps as she reminded them, she was their queen. Patience was not a virtue that came naturally to Elisara now—neither was being told what to do. The gods had used her to break the link between Novisia and the Isle of Gods, putting all of their citizens' lives at risk. Fury had festered in Elisara ever since. Fury at the gods, at Sitara. Fury at Caligh and her loss of Kazaar.
“Is that your way of saying you missed me?” Elisara asked coldly, padding barefoot over the cold stone floor of her chambers. She paused at the archway of the balcony, where Sallos rested his forearms onthe snowy wall, overlooking the city beneath the stars.
“You are my queen. Is it not natural to worry when we are parted?”
Elisara glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He wore the same clothes, with moisture seeping into his tanned jacket sleeves and his white linen shirt offering little reprieve from the realm.
“Aren’t you cold?”
“I no longer feel the cold,” he said. “I don’t really feel anything.”
“What a sad existence,” Elisara scoffed, resting her hands on the wall as snow fell over Azuria’s rooftops.
“Well, I am dead inside a sword. How joyful can I be?” Elisara pursed her lips. Dead. Caellum was dead. Kazaar was dead. Sighing, Elisara made a mental note to check the Avery in the morning. Ever since departing, Elisara and Sadira had exchanged daily letters, bound together in their grief. It was nice, having someone to write to who understood the front she had to put on as queen when all she wished to do was wallow in bed.
“How is the Queen of Garridon?” Sallos asked. Elisara looked at him.
“Don’t do that.”
“What?” he asked, shifting to lean against the wall and watch Elisara.
“Don’t sense my thoughts or emotions or whatever you are doing.” Only Kazaar was allowed in her mind. Sallos nodded, understanding her true meaning. “She is as one would expect when newly crowned and grieving. If we have no news from Larelle in the next day or so, I intend to aid with Vojta’s evacuation before visiting her in Garridon.” Elisara peered across the city to the settlements closest to the Neutral City. After another seven days of tremors, the destruction could extend past the realms’ borders. Luckily, none of the settlements were close to the Neutral City’s entrance, allowing time for evacuations. Vala’s citizens were currently being evacuated to Azuria and Alvera, the most coastal locations away from the tremors.
