Reubinon Palace, Pellarmus.

Sail for Erydia in six days.

Two days later, Britta and Darragh's marriage and crowning were announced publicly. The new King and Queen of Pellarmus also took that time as an opportunity to declare war on Erydia—a bold move. Nadia, Heidi, Anna and I watched it all on a broadcast screen. We hadn't wanted to go into the city, not with things getting busy around here.

Darragh was true to his word. His forces were arriving in the nearby ports—massive warships and smaller, stealthier boats—all of them prepared to leave within the week. Cohen, Dellacov, and I had walked into the nearby port early that morning, before the sun had risen and the crowds could gather from the royal proclamation.

The two boys had been quiet, their conversation a dance between the past and the future. I stayed out of it, opting to walk a few paces behind them as we wandered the readying docks. They'd come to scout the breath of Darragh's forces and see what was really going on.

I'd come to have a few minutes to breathe.

Ever since the proclamation and Britta's promise to give me a voice, I'd been watched. Everyone seemed on edge when they were around me. As if I were a fuse ready to blow. Darragh's dark eyes had tracked my every move during the meals we'd shared, his rapt attention calculative and oppressive. It reminded me of Caine. As if I were a game piece he were trying to decide how best to use.

And if my time with Caine had taught me anything, it was that not every move on the game board could be see by the naked eye. Sometimes, you needed to know where to look and what to watch for. Explosives were predicable. They would light and burn when the spark reached the end of the fuse. But I'd never been a bomb.

I was a match.

A catalyst.

And there was no telling when I would catch fire.

"Cohen?" I hurried my step so that I was walking on his other side, opposite Dellacov. His brow rose in answer as he turned to look my way. "Will Isla be in Erydia when we get there?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. I'd like to home so. She's a skilled fighter and very smart."

Dellacov didn't look at me as he said, "She'll probably be busy planning her wedding."

I started to slow my steps again, prepared to let them get ahead of me again, but another thought occurred to me. "Who trained Isla?"

Cohen's lips twitched. "What brought on this line of questions?"

I nodded out to one of the boats.

Even so early in the morning, people milled about. Sailors and soldiers mingled, working together to hoist massive crates of provisions and weapons on the glossed decks of the boats. They weren't all men. Dozens of female guards and soldiers wearing the Pellarmi colors worked to prep the ships. They carried guns and knives and wore their long hair up in braids or intricate twists at the base of their necks. Looking at them had reminded me of my friend.

"Women aren't allowed to hold guns in Erydia. It's considered crude by the temple. We are givers of life, not takers of life." My nose wrinkled as I recited the beliefs of the temple. "But it isn't like that here. Those women, they'll fight in the same way the men will."

Dellacov spared me a glance. "Some of them will fight a good bit better than the men, trust me."

I ignored his attempts to ignore me. "Yes! Exactly. It's amazing, really. Everything I know was either taught to me by my brothers, or by my Culling mentors, or by Kai. And even with the little training I have, I tend to rely on my ability. If I could have trained to fight as a child, really trained, I'd be unstoppable."

Cohen nudged me with his shoulder. "I'm not sure the world is ready for all that."

"Erydia certainly isn't," I agreed. "Do you think Darragh will change the laws about women learning to defend themselves?"

"Maybe," Cohen said. "I'm not sure he's thought much about it, if I'm honest."

"Well, I think he should." I thought about what it had felt like to be trapped in an alleyway in Linomi with a stranger. How his hands had traveled to places I hadn't liked, the way his breath had smelled of drink. I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to breath past the anxiety of that memory. "I'm lucky, I have an ability," I said. "There are girls all over Erydia who can't say the same. If I'd been defenseless like they are, I'd probably be dead or...or at least I wouldn't be the way I am today."

"You ought to tell Darragh that," Cohen said. "He'd probably be happy to hear that you approve and would want to see changes like that made in Erydia."

"I'd like to be a part of changes like that," I admitted.

Cohen didn't respond, his attention had wandered over to where Dellacov now stood talking to a group of soldiers. He'd been doing that all morning, stopping to chat with people he knew. He'd spent the past few weeks working in Haniver to solidify the marriage alliance between Justinian and Isla. Judging from the small context clues I could pick up on, it seemed like a few of the soldiers he'd spoken to were people who'd gone with him on that voyage.

Dellacov clapped them on the back and laughed with them. They had inside jokes and memories they could share. And I could tell from Cohen's expression that he didn't quite know what to make of it all.

His best friend had made new friends in his absence.

I could feel the unspoken tension between them as we headed back towards the palace. Even with the occasional uncomfortable silence, the two seemed to be happy enough to be back together. Still, there seemed to be some things they needed to talk to about.

Like Uri.

I'd been afraid to come today because I hadn't wanted to get caught up in discussions of Uriel. I shouldered a lot of that guilt for myself, but I wasn't willing to shoulder any guilt for Dellacov. What had happened to her had been tragic and terrible, but it hadn't been my fault. I hadn't chained her to that throne or fired any bullets.

But Cohen had been so excited that Dellacov would be joining us. Seeing the light in his blue eyes had warmed some broken, cold piece of me. It had been that smile that had gotten me to agree to tag along, even if Dellacov and me still weren't on the best footing.

After our walk, we'd all met with Darragh to discuss the voyage to Erydia. He'd already sent boats ahead to Haniver and had been sending his forced from there to Erydia. The trip was shorter—only four days with good sea—and Caine had yet to close off his ports. The influx of troops had come in the form of Haniver merchant ships—all of them heavy with spices and cloth and units of Pellarmi soldiers. These disguised ships had then been able to move the troops into local safehouses all over Erydia.

If all went to plan, we would enter Erydia in much the same way.

As far as Caine was concerned, Haniver was not a part of our fight and their merchants and trade was not suspect. In fact, with the trade from Pellarmi halted, the need for supplies from Haniver had only increased. Darragh hoped to keep the ties between his country and Justinian's a secret for as long as possible. In fact, they'd put off announcing Isla and Justinian's engagement publicly because they didn't want that news to get back to Erydia and raise any sort of distrust.

I was silent through those meetings, letting Dellacov, Cohen, and Tavin ask the biggest questions. No one had mentioned my outburst at dinner the other night, but I was still ashamed of it. I hated how easily I'd spiraled out of control and I knew—knew with every aching inch of my heart—that I still lingered on the edge of losing myself again.

I couldn't think of my brothers without wanting to scream. I wanted to claw my way out my skin. This body, the girl I was now, I didn't want to be here anymore. I hadn't wanted to be here in a long time.

So I stayed silent.

And I found that I had companions in that silence.

Heidi, who had grown to be more vocal, stayed quiet too. I could tell her silence was born of something else, a different emotion. Nadia had voiced her opinions on my continued relationship with Kai, but Heidi hadn't. Not to the same extent. Her disapproval didn't seem to flow from her in the same way it came from Nadia.

I was thankful for that at least.

The strain between Nadia and me was disconcerting. I hadn't realized how much I craved her approval until she'd taken it away. And while I was still a grown woman and could do what I wanted; I knew she was against any move I might make to save Kai.

Because Britta was right. If he lived, the threat of the Culling would always live with him. And the affected more than just me. It affected my goddess-touched friends and our entire world.

While Heidi hadn't given her full opinion on it, I knew she was anxious and didn't like the tension between all of us. She was used to being the problem causer in our trio, not the peace maker. I think that was what kept her quiet about the war. She would fight—willingly and with vigor. But this conflict between the three of us, after we'd come to some sort of truce, was beyond her arsenal.

Next to her, Tavin took notes on everything being said. The two of them had truly become attached at the hip. Friends, I think, more than lovers. Sure, we'd teased her about kissing him, but their conversations and interactions weren't inherently romantic. I think maybe they'd just found kindred spirits in one another.

They both had scores to settle.

Tavin with Erydia and Heidi with the entire world.

And so, Tavin had become incredibly knowledgeable about Britta's rebellion. I think after everything that had happened with the Culled, he was naturally wary of these new emerging powers. He watched all of this with dark eyes and a pursed mouth, with quick scribbling hands, and a knee that bounced with anxiety.

He reminded me of the Cohen I'd known before the rebellion.

I wondered if Tavin liked what he was learning.

So far, Darragh seemed to be the warrior while Britta was the one with the plan for after the fight. And while I didn't exactly know how I felt about Darragh, I was beginning to realize that I liked Britta. She was a silent, powerful presence in the war room. She didn't cave to Darragh and I took that as a good sign. This wasn't a foreign power coming into our country—it was a long-lost queen returning home to her people.

I trusted Erydia in her hands.

After our meeting, Britta and Darragh left for their public proclamation. It would take place on one of the large palace balconies that overlooked the front garden, gate, and watch tower. We'd been invited to go into the city and watch alongside their people, but I'd been quick to decline. Crowded spaces and hot spring air weren't things I was interested in.

And it would be incredibly crowded. The street I'd run on with Jaxon would be filled to the brim with people gathered to hear what the prince, now king, of Pellarmus had to say. Cohen, Dellacov and I had seen the masses gathering and had heard their whispers about the preparing ships and the rumors of an alliance between Erydia and their country. Some knew that Britta was alive and here, others believed that it was a rumor—she was still dead to so many.

No. I had no desire to be in that crowd.

Darragh didn't seem worried about his people's reaction to his news. And, when it was announced, I was surprised that there wasn't more shock or anger directly at the Crown. I sat on the couch next to Anna and watched as Darragh gave a grandiose speech about love and war and how the two intermingled. And I thought of Kai. Even if I didn't want to, my mind wandered to him always.

Anna said nothing as the King of Pellarmus and his new bride declared war on her son. Her paint speckled hand had only wrapped around mine, the touch hidden beneath cushions and blankets, but no less real and needed. She would not go with us to Erydia—which I thought was the best news I'd heard in a lone time.

She didn't need to return. Not ever. Not if she didn't want to.

Britta had granted her full citizenship in Pellarmus and offered to allow her to stay in the palace for as long as she wished. And Anna seemed happy here. She'd found a friend and then lost one in Leighton, who had doted on her in small, almost unseen ways. It had been Leighton who had gone into the garden and picked flowers for her—not as a gift, but as a muse. Something she should paint.

After he was gone, she'd told me that he'd hunted down a vase for her on our first morning here. He'd arranged the flowers on a pedestal in the corner of one of the best lit sitting rooms. "He knew about art," she'd told me. "He didn't look like he would and I don't think he'd have ever admit to caring about it, but he knew—he knew what sort of sun I would need to paint. And he always commented on my skill. I—He was lovely. And so very kind to me. I am sad to have lost his friendship."

After the announcement had finished and the sitting room had cleared of people, I worked up the courage to ask her, "Will you be lonely here, once we've all gone back to Erydia?"

She sighed, her fingers tightening on mine. "Only for a little while. You won't be gone forever," she said. "And when you return here...when you return, you'll bring my Kai with you."

Her faith in me made my chest ache. What if I failed? What if he died? I felt my panic rise like one of the ocean waves, cresting and growing larger by the minute. The fear was only pushed forward by the waxing and waning of my grief. If my heart hurt like this for my brothers, I didn't think I would be able to withstand Kai's loss.

"You'll bring him home to me," Anna whispered. "I know it." 

I leaned in, pressing a kiss to her cheek before I rose. 

She didn't let go of my hand right away. "Monroe?"

My throat was tight as I whispered, "Yes?"

"Kai hasn't always made the best choices. He was always impulsive and wild, even as a little boy. And right now, the lies he's told and the choices he's made may appear incredibly reckless. They are reckless. There are probably a good many things he would take back if he could. But...But he chose well when he chose you. You are not on his list of regrets."

"He might think differently when I return. Especially since he chose to send me here and he...he didn't want me to come back."

She smiled to herself. "Do you know what he'll do when he sees you?"

I shook my head.

"I'd wager he'll probably fuss. And worry, like the mother hen he is. And then, when he's done with all of that, he'll probably kiss you soundly. And he won't let you go again."

"I hope you're right."

She pulled her sweater tighter around her shoulders. "I'm his mother, of course I'm right."

***

Ayyyyyyeeee I'm back! I'm still in the process of moving, but I graduated with my Master's in English (Yay!) and I'm officially back to focusing on bookish things. That means regular uploads for you and a ton of editing for me. If you want to see my new writing space and the various cat's that inhabit it, head over to my instagram. 

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