Page 15 of Realms of Shadow and Sun

Instead of aiming for the urn, Renya released her magic in Cressida's direction, and it shot against her chest. While it wasn't a powerful enough blast to seriously harm her, it was enough to surprise her and knock her backwards. She landed with a harsh thump against the cold marble flooring, her usually composed facade cracking for a moment to reveal genuine shock.

Renya suppressed a laugh, enjoying the way Cressida's phrasing allowed her to act against her, especially since that wasn't the Shadow Queen's intention. A small thrill of victory ran through her, tempered by the knowledge that her actions would have consequences. But in the end, it just put Cressida in a sour mood, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she picked herself up off the floor.

She glared at Renya, and for a few seconds, Renya thought she might turn on her and use her black magic against her. The air crackled with tension, and Renya braced herself for retaliation. But instead, Cressida just looked at her, eyes unblinking. Renya could feel the undercurrent of hostility raging silently in the room, like a storm waiting to break.

“If only your pathetic mate could see you now,” Cressida jeered, her voice low and venomous. “Too bad he has no power left. He's weak and useless. I'd hate to be fated to such a waste.”

Renya ignored the insult, though it took every ounce of her self-control. She knew Cressida was trying to provoke her, to make her lose control. Even without magic, Grayden was powerful. His strength lay not just in his abilities, but in his heart, his determination. Renya clung to that thought, using it as a shield against Cressida's cruel words.

Cressida, seeing that her barb hadn't had the desired effect, pressed on. “It's too bad you'll never see him again. I might not be able to kill him directly, but there are ways to be rid of him.”

This time, Renya's face turned red, a mixture of fury and fear flooding through her. Without thinking, she sent a huge burst of magic towards Cressida, golden and hot. The power surged from her in a blinding flash, fueled by her love for Grayden and her terror at the thought of losing him.

But this time, the Shadow Queen was prepared. She sent up a misty shield, a swirling darkness that seemed to devour the light. Renya's magic bounced off and hit her squarely in the chest. She gasped, the pain and heat of her own magic intense and aching. It felt like being struck by lightning, every nerve in her body screaming in agony.

She felt herself fall back to the floor, sprawled out and unable to catch her breath. The world spun around her, and for a moment, she thought she might lose consciousness. She lay there, trying to comprehend what happened, her mind reeling from the shock of the impact.

Cressida strutted over and looked down at her, contempt in her gaze. Her lips curled into a cruel smile, satisfaction gleaming in her dark eyes. “See? You're pathetic. Your mate is pathetic, your control over your magic is pathetic, and you are useless to me.” She kicked Renya sharply in the side with the toe of her boot and then marched out of the room, her footsteps echoing in the vast chamber.

Renya didn't pick herself up. She was so tired of fighting, so tired of pushing herself to learn all she could from Cressida. The weight of her captivity, the constant battle against Cressida's cruelty, and the ache of separation from Grayden all crashed down on her at once.

The longer she lay there, the easier the tears flowed. Hot and salty, they trickled down her cheeks before pooling at the back of her neck. She stayed there, exhausted and in tears, for almost a half hour before she heard the door open.

“Miss Renya! What happened?” Margot swept into the room, her apron starched and her hair in a tight bun. She hurried to where Renya lay, and knelt down beside her, worry etched on her kind face.

Renya wiped the tears from her cheeks and allowed Margot to help her up to a sitting position. The movement sent a fresh wave of pain through her, and she winced, her breath catching in her throat. Margot pulled out a handkerchief from her apron pocket and handed it to Renya. There was a delicate blue flower embroidered on it, along with Margot's name. Renya accepted it and wiped her tears, the soft fabric a small comfort against her skin.

“It'll be okay,” Margot said, patting Renya's knee gently. Her voice was soft, filled with a motherly concern that made Renya's heart ache for home.

Renya breathed deeply, her chest still aching from the impact of her own magic. “I don't think I'll ever be okay again,” she said, looking into Margot's sympathetic eyes. The words felt heavy on her tongue, a truth she had been trying to deny. “I'll never be able to match her magic.”

“You're not alone, Miss Renya,” Margot reassured her, her eyes shining with a fierce determination that surprised Renya. “I'm sure your prince is out there, on his way to come get you.”

Renya didn't have the heart to tell her that it didn't matter, that she was stuck here. Unless Grayden was able to defeat Cressida once and for all, she was bound by her blood promise. As much as she believed in Grayden, she knew the odds were heavily stacked against him. She didn't even know if he was healed, or if there were any lingering issues from his injuries. Cressida's dragons had destroyed most of the Twilight Kingdom, and Renya had seen so many fallen soldiers on the battlefield as she flew above the carnage on the back of the dragon. The memory of that flight, of the destruction she had witnessed, still haunted her dreams. She knew any resources available were already thinned considerably.

But looking at Margot's hopeful face, Renya couldn't bring herself to crush that optimism. Instead, she managed a weak smile, grateful for the woman's kindness in this dark place.

Renya allowed Margot to pull her up, and she swayed on her feet the second she was upright. The room spun around her, and for a moment, she thought she might collapse again. Margot helped catch her, and Renya leaned on her as they made their way back towards Renya's room.

The journey seemed to take forever, each step a monumental effort. By the time they reached her chambers, Renya was breathing heavily, her body trembling with exhaustion.

Margot opened the door and helped Renya to the bed. She sank deeply on the mattress, the wind still knocked out of her. Margot removed her shoes and tucked her gently into the bed, her movements careful and tender.

“Thank you, Margot,” Renya said, slinking back against the pillow, her body tired of fighting. The softness of the bed was a stark contrast to the hard marble floor of the throne room, and Renya felt herself beginning to relax despite the lingering pain.

“I'm rooting for you, Renya,” Margot said, as she shut the door quietly behind her. The words hung in the air, a small beacon of hope in the darkness that surrounded Renya.

Chapter Ten

Sion's heart beat faster, a frantic rhythm that seemed to echo in the cavernous throne room. The familiar oppressive atmosphere felt even more suffocating today, the air thick with tension and unspoken threats. Brandle stood next to Cressida, his lips curled into a gleeful grin that sent chills down Sion's spine. Brandle's appearance alone made Sion's brow sweat and perspiration trickle down his back, the cool droplets a stark contrast to the heat of his fear. Whatever reason he was summoned for, it was something that made Brandle ecstatic.

Which meant trouble for Sion.

His eyes darted to Renya, who stood at Cressida's left, obviously held there by the Shadow Queen's magic. The invisible bonds seemed to shimmer in the air around her, a testament to Cressida's power. Renya's eyes were frantic and desperate, another sign that what was going to transpire was deadly. The fear in her gaze made Sion's stomach churn with dread.

Swallowing hard, Sion forced his voice to remain steady as he addressed the queen. “How can I serve you, my queen?” The words tasted bitter on his tongue, a reminder of the facade he had maintained for so long.

Cressida's eyes narrowed, a predatory gleam in their depths. “That's the thing, Sion,” she said, her voice steady and unwavering. Each word felt like a nail in Sion's coffin. “I think you serve others, not just me.”

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