Page 114 of Of Realms and Chaos

I nodded, holding out my hand and beckoning the item to me. The darkness coagulated around my palm before abruptly dissipating, leaving only a gently folded note in my hand. Noe gasped, running towards me. Henry made his way closer, steps measured and full of the nerves we were all being consumed by. When I opened the note, my hand immediately covered my mouth, trying and failing to stop the tears.

I am okay. Please do not slaughter innocents or freeze over entire villages. Trust that I will come back to you as soon as I can.

I love you.

Noe, her own tears flowing, wrapped her arms around me. Her fingers massaged the back of my head, and then Henry was holding me too, all three of us crying so hard we could barely stand. Through it all, I said the same four words over and over again.

“It is her handwriting.”

***

Luca’s funeral was quaint, a small affair where only those closest to him came to pay their respects. Cyprus had spent most of the afternoon with his parents and Luca’s dad, the four of them practically in a constant embrace.

Luca’s father did separate from them eventually, walking towards me with what looked to be purpose. I wondered how long it would take him to confidently call me out for sending his only son to the enemy’s territory, especially when we now knew that Asher had not been there. At least, she likely had not. Her note did not smell like Betovere, the ink slightly different than what the royals used. Which meant I had been the cause of the death of a male who had been like a brother to me.

“Bellamy,” his father said, reaching out his arms to pull me into a hug. I returned the gesture, surprised by such kindness when I had a feeling the conversation would end with him cursing my existence. We stayed like that for a while, just holding one another. I listened as he sobbed, waiting for the shoe to drop. “First my wife, and now my son? The world is far crueler than I ever thought.”

“I am so sorry for what I did. I never should have sent him. If I could take his place, I would. More than anything, I wish that I could somehow trade my life for his.” My voice broke, fingers forming fists upon Jeremy’s back. “Luca. He was better than most—better than me. You raised one of the best males I have ever met.”

He released me then, using his hands to push me from him—those blue eyes looking so much like his son’s that I felt sick. When he shook his head, gripping my arms tighter, my heart sank. I tried to apologize again, but he cut me off with a raised hand.

“I do not blame you, Bellamy. You gave my son, a creature that many feared, a chance. We wraiths are not loved, nor are we trusted, but you took him in. Despite his age and his magic, you accepted him. In fact, he used to call you all his second family, and I can see how true that is in your eyes. Please, do not blame yourself. He loved what he did. He loved you.” The tears flowed faster down his face as he tugged me into him again, this time patting my back as I let the pain devour me.

“Eighty-two was too young. He deserved better. I will give those who did this to him ten times the pain. They will suffer. I promise you that, Jeremy.”

He stepped away, inhaling a mouthful of air before nodding and walking back to Cyprus. I stayed alone for the remainder of the funeral, not even Noe coming up to me. One day, I would thank them for affording me space, but that would not be today.

After the pyre had been built and lit, we said our goodbyes to Luca, another unfair farewell. More that my parents had taken from me—from us. We had begun plans to obliterate The Capital, spending more time than even I cared to admit trying to decide how to save at least the younglings.

Regardless, the golden palace would fall.

***

The paint was dry.

Had I been sitting here that long?

It felt like seconds since I began the piece, Asher’s eyes staring back at me as if to say, “Yes, dimwit, it has been that long.”

Winona, Pino, and Luca’s gazes were not much kinder.

Because I had spent an unspeakable amount of time in this room, I decided it was probably best to clean up. Last night, I had taken to smashing most of my art that resided within these four walls, which left me with ripped canvases galore.

Bending down with a sigh, my fingers only just grazed the shredded cloth when I heard the door swing open.

“Bell!” Henry’s voice was startling after so many hours without any sound. I turned to see him racing towards me, waving a piece of paper around like a lunatic.

For a split second, I thought he was attempting to use Asher’s note to cheer me up, which was ridiculous and also likely to work, but then I caught the look in his eyes. Whatever was in Henry’s hand had him flustered and excited, a dangerous combination in times like this. When he stopped in front of me, I eagerly tried to look at the correspondence, leaning my head and snatching it from his hands. But I did not need to, because Henry was quick to summarize it for me.

“It is from Genevieve. Bell, they have Ash.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Stassi

The golden queen was flustered, something I hadn’t seen from her yet. She spoke quickly, moved in jerky spurts, and even forgot to order around her many male hounds. Even more interesting was her black clothing. Never had I seen her in anything other than gold before. This was new, and I so loved new.

When she lifted her fingers to her mouth and began nibbling on the ends, I knew something exciting was happening. From around the corner, I watched as the dimpled king approached her from behind. So startled was she when he appeared at her side that she audibly yelped.

---