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He runs a finger down a yellowed page. “The texts describe enhanced magical abilities that are significantly stronger than what the person could naturally wield.” He glimpses up at Sterling. “You’d likely find your abilities amplified beyond anything we’ve witnessed before.”

My stomach clenches at the thought of that much power. Of the potential consequences. Of the gravity of becoming so godlike.

“There are also accounts of divine senses. The ability to perceive things hidden from mortal eyes. Incredible physical strength and endurance. Enhanced healing. And,” Bastian hesitates, shooting me an uneasy glance, “a significantly longer lifespan.”

The room stills, every breath magnified in the sudden silence. My heart drops as the implications stab me in the heart.

Sterling would outlive me.

“Define ‘significantly longer.’” Sterling voices my fear.

Bastian grimaces, shifting in discomfort. “Ahh, I’m not sure. I’m thinking centuries. Possibly longer.”

My jaw drops open.

Hundreds of years? Gods. That means he’d watch me age and die. Our children age and die. Their children.

Sterling’s gaze finds mine from across the room, and understanding passes between us. The emotions playing over his handsome face echo my own. Shock. Sorrow. Determination.

We both saw the Guardian. Despite his otherworldliness, he resembled a man in his prime.

My throat constricts, eyes burning with unshed tears. I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out.

Sterling pushes to his feet, the chair scraping against the stone floor. His shoulders are rigid, his jaw set in that stubborn way I’ve come to know so well. “That makes the decision a no-brainer.”

I gather my courage. “Knox⁠—”

“No. Absolutely fucking not. I’m not spending centuries without you.” His voice cracks a little, and something inside me breaks with it. “I won’t live while the people I love die. I’ve already done that too many times.”

The room erupts into arguing.

“That’s exactly why you should do it!” Rafe slaps a hand on the table. “Centuries of protection for our kingdom. Think of what that means for future generations.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Agnar shoots Rafe a what-the-fuck look. “At what cost? His humanity? His soul? We saw what the Guardian has become. Not quite mortal, not quite god. Something in between. And there’s no one else like him. A depressing way to exist, if you ask me.”

“But the power you’d gain could do incredible good, Knox.” Nira’s calm but firm statement rises above the others. “We must consider the bigger picture.”

“The bigger picture?” A vein throbs in Sterling’s temple. “Like the ‘bigger picture’ that led us into war with Aclaris? The ‘bigger picture’ that nearly cost Lark her life? I’m tired of ‘bigger pictures’ painted by gods who view us as pawns.”

“No offense, dear,” Duchess Breann pats Nira’s hand, “but you haven’t lived long enough to know how time and loss can harden someone’s heart. I agree with Prince Knox. This is not a path he should walk alone.”

I stay silent, my mind a battlefield of conflicting emotions. Though relief washes over me at Sterling’s refusal. Selfish, perhaps, but honest. I don’t want him to suffer centuries alone. Or imagine him tormented while I, along with our children, wither away from old age.

Guilt simmers beneath that relief.

Am I the sole reason he’s declining such power? Power that could protect our kingdom? Our people? The world?

As the arguments swirl around us, I try to catch Sterling’s eye again, but he deliberately avoids me, focused instead on the maps spread before him.

A phantom hand squeezes my heart. Is he angry with me? Does he think I want him to accept Rivlan’s offer? Or can he read the worry on my face?

“Enough!” Sterling pounds both fists on the table. “This is my decision and not up for debate. We’re wasting time. Divine offer or not, we have more immediate concerns. Tirene cannot become collateral damage in this divine war. We need to revert to our previous plan because this one is not. Fucking. Acceptable!”

The bickering ceases. The room’s attention snaps to the prince.

I seize the opportunity to gather my composure and rise to my feet. “Knox is right. Whatever games the gods are playing, our priority is protecting our people.” I stand close enough to Sterling that our arms brush. “We’ve survived invasions, assassinations, and a rogue god. We’ll survive this too. Through our own strength, not through divine power with doubtful motives.”

Sterling finally glances at me, his eyes bright with gratitude. “My queen speaks wisely. Listen to her.”