Iona walked ahead of us, her plump figure dimly outlined by the moonlight. Wind blew through the pines, sending sprays of needles across the snow speckled ground. The road to Iona's estate wound upward, taking us higher into the mountains where the air was colder and thinner. Only the thought of a bed that wasn't on the ground kept my feet moving forward.

"Are you okay?" Dante asked, coming to walk alongside me. His handsome face scrunched together. "I mean...I know you're not okay. It's just...well...shit."

The edge of my mouth quirked up. "Tempting as it is to let you continue to put your foot in your mouth, I know you're asking."

Not if I was okay in general, but okay after talking to Iona. After learning how my mother had pinned the hope of the world on me and another young girl. And then learning that the young girl was the child who had been my light in the darkest hours of my life.

I hadn't told Dante or my aunt anything about Morana. When the initial shock of discovering her identity had worn off, something welled up inside of me and stilled my tongue. Perhaps it was because I didn't want to explain to them how we had left her in the hands of our enemy, or maybe it was because I thought there might be a reason her family wanted everyone else to think she was dead.

"I'm fine. It's just a lot to think about."

Mostly, I was thinking about how much I wished my friend was here with me right now. For selfish reasons, because no one could calm me like she could. Morana had the ability to know when I needed advice and when I needed comfort. It had been a useful gift during many late nights during our girlhood years.

But beyond all that, I wished she was here so she could hear the truth. Being without her memories and identity had been such a burden on her. I had often wondered if she could ever truly put it down, and now I had the most substantial clue we'd ever had. If only I knew where she was...

Dante's jaw flexed and movement from the corner of my eye drew my attention to his hands. He clenched and unclenched his fingers, each time shaking them out a bit when they straightened fully.

"Are you okay?" I asked, putting my hand in one of his and squeezing.

He looked down at our clasped hands. Some of the tension seeped out of him, but he arranged his features into a careful, neutral expression.

"I don't know how you're not furious."

"Maybe I would've been if not for everything else that has happened recently. There are so many other heartbreaks and pressing matters in the present. Something that happened in the past so long ago cannot be fixed, so why spend any energy on it."

That sounded diplomatic enough, but the truth was that I was angry. My mother had made all those decisions without ever including me, and it was true I was a child when I was kidnapped. But in age only. You could not be born with the weight of a crown on your head and stay naive for very long. What could I have done differently if I had known the truth?

"Dante," I said, squeezing his hand again and drawing in a deep breath. Up ahead, the first glimpse of Iona's estate was visible, but it would take us half a bell to reach it. "Being angry right now doesn't bring back your parents or your sister."

"Being numb doesn't bring back Yoko, either," he snapped.

I snatched my hand away. "That's not fair."

"You can rationalize my pain, but I cannot do the same to yours? My family died in that war. They tore me from my family and my homeland. Same as you. Would things have been different if she had told them the truth about the king? That we were fighting a monster and not an elf?"

"If we were having this conversation only hours after your family died, my words would be different. I would never tell you not to be angry and hurt and sad and–and whatever else you needed to feel in that moment. But this happened over a decade ago.

"Astreia," Dante's voice softened as mine rose.

"Yes. Is that what you want to hear? I am angry and bitter. My mother kept all of this to herself. It makes me feel ashamed that she didn't think she could trust me to help her. But I can feel it and not let it lead me around by the nose. And no. This is not me pushing it down and refusing to deal with it. It simply is not worth my time and energy right now."

"I'm sorry."

My heart softened. I had been a little harsh with him. "Don't be. You are allowed to grieve in whatever way makes sense to you. All I ask is that you give me the same leniency."

We crested the hill. A massive red bricked manor with a tiled roof stretched before us. It was much larger than the one I remembered from childhood. The new wings were easily identifiable by the fresher materials. Despite the late hour, lights blazed in most of the windows.

Something else new was the guards stationed on either side of the long cobblestone road leading to the house. They saluted Iona as she approached. Their expressions remained respectful as we passed, but they did not hide their curiosity as they looked us over.

"That's it?" I asked my aunt.

"What's it, my dear?"

"The guards. They asked no questions about us or even of you. Do you not have code words or signals? Why is there not a wall around the manor? There are so many weaknesses here."

Iona giggled almost girlishly. "We have no need of such things."

"You said you posted scouts," Dante interjected, sounding as concerned as I did. "Why would you post scouts if you were not concerned about outside threats?"

"We post scouts because of the wraiths. They monitor the borders. Every sun cycle, the borders grow a little more. We have wards here that protect us from the wraiths. As for walls, all of Estrellum is surrounded by a wall that keeps our enemy out. What need do we have for one here?"

"You think there are not enemies within these lands? Though it's painful to admit, there are citizens who are dangerous. They do not wish to be ruled."

"You speak of the Napali? Of Mafta and her lot?"

"Yes. We encountered them when we entered."

"They are a small rebel faction, and as long as they stayed in the lowlands, we have seen no need to interfere with them."

Now I really was angry. Mafta had collared her people to control them. She had drawn on dangerous magic that was a threat to everyone, and Iona, the regent of Estrellum, had chosen to ignore them.

"Mother!" An excited shriek came from the house, and a few moments later, a beautiful young elf threw herself into Iona's arms. "I was so worried about you."

"I told you not to worry."

"Just because you can command everyone else to not worry, it does not mean you can command me so. You may be their queen, but you are my mother."

Queen. I tried not to glare at my aunt. Regents rarely called themselves by such a formal title.

She cleared her throat, pressed a kiss against her daughter's temple, and turned to face us. "Ailsa, there is someone I would like you to meet. Though I suppose you are meeting her again."

"Ailsa?" I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand as I took in the girl before me.

My cousin had been barely four sun cycles when I was taken by the king. Now, there was little left of the round cheeked, mischievous child. In her place was a woman with sharp eyes and muscular limbs. She had shorn off the silver curls that used to bounce around her face, leaving only the finest layer of silver fuzz on her ebony scalp.

"Hello," she said warily, extending her hand and searching my face for clues to my identity. My hood hid my own silver hair. "I'm afraid you know me, but I don't know you."

By this time, a crowd had gathered around us. Some wore knowing expressions, and the gentle buzz of conversation grew as they whispered their suspicions to their neighbors. Dante pulled me closer to him while putting his free hand on the hilt of his sword. Neither of us could forget what happened last time we declared my true identity to a crowd.

"This," Iona said, raising her voice to address everyone, "is what we have been waiting for. I told you all that our princess would return to us one day. Only now, she returns to us as a queen."

I pulled back my hood. A collective gasp rose and then silence. A heavy, desperate silence that spoke of a people too afraid to hope, so I pushed back my sleeves and prodded at the starlight beneath my skin. It was dim and flickering, but it was enough. Someone sobbed, and then everyone was shouting and singing and clapping.

"She's home!"

"It's true. Queen Astreia has returned!"

"The gods have answered us."

Dante laughed and swung me around. I clung to him as the world spun and tried not to think about how much happier I would be if my other friends were celebrating this moment with me. Morana. Yoko. I had to follow my own advice. I could not bring her back with my pain.

"Welcome home, As," Dante whispered in my ear.

"You too, Lord Ishtan," I replied with as much of a grin as I could muster.

Ailsa broke away from the surging crowd. I looked at her, offering her the remnants of my smile, and she did not return it. Instead, she raised her chin slightly and spun on her heel, disappearing into the manor without another word.