“Then stop second-guessing yourself. I know you can do this. We all do. You’re a Queen, and more importantly, you’re the daughter of Andrei Bellator—so go fight like it.”
I closed my eyes and let his words rush into me. Like a gentle wind blown on a glowing ember, the spirit inside me sparked and roared to life. I let it burn, cleansing away my doubt, my guilt, my fear. I would never be completely free of those things, but I could stop letting them rule me. I could give it my best and pray that was enough.
Even if it wasn’t, at least I’d go to my grave knowing I gave it my all.
Because in this world of injustice and cruelty, where innocents died every day while people in power turned a blind eye and hid in the comfort of their privilege, doing something and failing was better than doing nothing at all.
So I would try.
I would fight.
And Kindred be damned, I would show this realm what it meant to mess with a Bellator.
I reached down and took a fist full of soil, then tucked it into a pouch at my waist. I might never be able to go home again, but I could bring home with me. I could carry in my heart all the love, all my parents’ lessons, and everything this home represented—and nothing could ever take that away.
“Are you sure you’re ready for Queen Diem?” I teased. “I have a feeling my enemies won’t end with the Twenty Houses of Lumnos.”
Teller went full-on little brother, rolling his eyes with a dramatic huff. “Someone has to keep your ego in check. I suppose it might as well be me.”
I smiled and held out my hand. “Ready?”
“I’m ready, Your Majesty.” He smirked as our palms clasped together with a menacing clap. “Let’s fight.”
I stood on the perch outside my bedchamber, watching the moon’s silvery light spill across the first frost of the season, turning the palace grounds into a shimmering quilt.
Sorae was seated beside me. Her feathered wing curled around my body to tuck me close as I scratched the leathery patch of flesh at her chin. Her eyes closed, and a happy rumble rolled from her throat. Because of the bond that connected our emotions, no one had felt the brunt of my dour mood these past weeks more than Sorae—and no one seemed more relieved that I’d finally let it go.
I looked down at the ledge in front of me, where a small golden orb sat on a pillow of pink satin. For the last hour, I’d been trying to work up the courage to ask the question that had been nagging at me for weeks. It was an answer I both desperately wanted to know and deeply feared receiving.
Sorae nipped at the corner of the pillow, causing the gilded sphere to jostle free and roll across the balustrade. I lunged to grab it before it tumbled over the edge, but when I went to set it back in place, Sorae tugged the cushion fully out of my reach.
“Sorae!” I protested. She snorted in response, the pillow still dangling from her teeth. I reached to snatch it from her, and she whipped it away and tossed it clear across the balcony.
“It’s the middle of the night Sorae, I’m not playing fetch with you. Wait—are you trying to play fetch with me?”
She blew a puff of smoke through her nostrils that sounded eerily like a laugh. Before I could retrieve the pillow like a good little trained pet, she leaned her head down and nudged my hand with her snout.
I held out my palm, frowning down at the orb. “You think I should ask?”
Two amber eyes blinked slowly in response.
“What if it says no?” I said, my voice growing weak.
To that, Sorae didn’t respond, but the pulse of affection across our bond told me what I needed to know. That she would be here with me, by my side, whatever the answer.
I blew out a breath and closed my eyes. Just as it had been on the night of the ball, the strange object felt unnervingly alive, hot to the touch and vibrating with energy. A force beneath my skin stirred, as if whatever magic lived inside the sphere was whispering a secret to whatever magic lived inside of me.
“Orb of Answering, here is my first question.” I hesitated and swallowed the lump in my throat. “Is my mother still alive?”
There was a tickling against my skin as the rough etchings on the ball’s surface began to move. The intricate patterns shifted and wove into symbols I didn’t recognize, then words in languages I didn’t know, until finally one clear word appeared on the orb’s smooth golden face.
Yes.
A joyful sob broke from my lips, followed by uncontrollable laughter that sang of relief and hope.
Alive—my mother was alive!
I clasped the orb to my chest, grinning and laughing, happy tears pooling at the corners of my eyes. After all this time, all this uncertainty—Auralie Bellator was alive.
And I would see her again.
All I had to do was survive the Challenging. Then, in a few weeks’ time, Luther would go to her. I would make him take me along—maybe Teller, too. We would find her and bring her home, and we would grieve my father’s loss all over again, but at least we would do it together.
I threw my arms around Sorae’s scale-covered neck and hugged her tightly, drawing another of her pleased trills. I wanted to run inside and do the same to Teller, but he was fast asleep, and that would provoke a much deeper conversation about Luther and our mother that now was not the time to begin.
Soon, though. I’d been a hypocrite in keeping secrets to protect him after I had been so angry when the same was done to me. Teller deserved the truth, and he would get it… after the Challenging. From me—or, worst case, from Luther.
I gave another happy sigh and laid a kiss on Sorae’s snout, then turned back to my bedchamber. Just as I passed through the archway leading to my rooms, an idea pierced my thoughts.
I paused, holding the golden sphere up to my face, the moon’s reflection gleaming bright along its surface.
“Orb of Answering,” I said slowly, “here is my second question. The man who sired me… my birth father… is he still alive?”
Again, the etchings set into motion, scribbling and scrawling all manner of ancient symbols. It seemed to take longer this time, the answer more buried in its infinite and impossible knowledge.
And then, as before, a single word took shape.
And my heart stopped in my chest.
Yes.
Chapter
Thirty-Eight
“Don’t you think this is a little bit… much?”
I eyed my reflection in the mirror, desperately clamping my lips together to keep from laughing.
“You’re a Queen,” Eleanor said, draping another heavy collar of jewels around my neck. “There’s no such thing as too much.”
Lily nodded in aggressive agreement and fussed with the diamond-encrusted sash at my waist. “You need to embrace the Crown, and if you want to feel the part, you have to look the part.”
“But I don’t even have anywhere special to go,” I protested.
“You’re a Queen,” Eleanor said again. “Everywhere you go is special.”
“Found it,” Taran shouted, striding in with a colossal heap of fabric in his hands.
Lily squealed and ran over to help him unfurl his discovery: deep marine blue velvet, covered with silver embroidery from end to end, its edges trimmed in snow-white fur with flecks of black.
I groaned. “Is that…？”