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The sword glides through the air, slicing invisible foes. Each swing sends a surge of power through my veins.
Flame and steel.
With the crackling energy intensifying, I push myself even harder, driven by a desire to surpass what my title demands. The perfect queen seems a distant ideal as I embrace the fighter within myself, flowing through techniques that weave fire and steel into a deadly dance.
Too long. It’s been too damn long since I’ve trained with a physical weapon.
I ignore the fatigue creeping into my muscles. Instead, I focus on the freedom of movement, the strength rising in my core, on breaking the chains of expectation and worry.
From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Rafe as he observes from outside the ring, his arms crossed in a casual yet assessing manner. His intense gaze dares me to be better, to evolve into the leader I’ve always envisioned yet haven’t fully embraced, and I try my best to meet that challenge.
“Impressive.” His expression possesses a hint of something I can’t quite place. Approval? “You’ve made remarkable progress.”
A swell of warmth ignites in my chest, grounding me in this moment. “I need to be more than just a crown. I need to be able to protect those I care about.”
“That’s the spirit of a true leader.” He nods, a flicker of admiration illuminating his features. “You’re not just a queen, Lark. You’re a warrior. Embrace it. Follow your heart. That’s the only reason we’re all still ourselves and not puppets being controlled by a god.”
As I strike against the air once more, I vow to embrace my duality.
I am not merely a queen. I am also a fighter, a protector.
With that knowledge burns a fierce determination. I won’t allow the world to dictate who I am any longer.
Chapter Nineteen
I jolt awake with my heart in my throat, momentarily confused by the bright sunlight pouring through the windows. The realization that I’ve overslept—again—hits me like a bucket of cold water.
The sheets twist around my legs like hungry vines as I scramble up, my mind already cataloguing the meetings I’ve missed, the reports I haven’t read, and the people I’ve disappointed.
Sterling would never have missed the morning report. But Sterling isn’t here, and I’m the one wearing the crown.
My head pounds with the remnants of not enough sleep and too many hours bent over ancient tomes. Royal decrees and historical precedents swarm behind my eyelids, a jumble of should haves and could bes that I’d been trying to memorize until the candles burned down to nubs.
A knock at the door has me spinning in place, one arm thrust through my robe sleeve, the other flailing for balance. “Your Majesty?”
“Just a minute!” My voice comes out higher than I intend, betraying my panic. I cinch the robe tight around my waist. Telling myself I’m ready for anything, I lift my chin. “Come in.”
Rhiann Barda steps inside and gestures behind her to communicate that someone else is waiting. Bastian appears in the doorway, his face creased with concern.
“Bastian, I know I’m late. I’ll be at the meeting as soon as—” I gesture to Rhiann, who is hurrying to my wardrobe to retrieve today’s outfit, which she’s already hung and prepared.
Rhiann has assisted me since I first came to Tirene, and I’ve never been more grateful for her help than today.
“Lark, reports are coming in from across the kingdom.” My brother’s words clip my apology short. “The morning briefing has…evolved.”
My stomach sinks. “How bad?”
“Bad enough that I came searching for you.” He steps inside, closing the door behind him. “Merchants from the Western Provinces are refusing to travel. Something about bridge tolls being collected by…” Bastian hesitates, as if checking the words before they leave his mouth, “stars.”
Rhiann’s hairbrush stills in my hair, and I blink at him. “Stars?”
Ever the proper Lady of the Bedchamber, Rhiann snaps out of her momentary shock and sets herself to getting me presentable.
“Lights, they’re saying. Descending from the sky and forming barriers across bridges.” His fingers twist together. “Anyone who tries to cross without payment is…well, they say the stars burn through their wagons.”
We all jump when there’s another knock on the door.
With what we’ve just learned, I think we’re only expecting things to get worse.
