Page 46 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood

“Where are we going?” My voice sounds small, lost in the vastness of grief that stretches out like the Impassable Desert.

“Shh, Lark. You fell asleep on my mother’s lap. I’m taking you to bed.” His voice is a soft, comforting presence in the dark.

“Did you find anything? About…about her?” The question claws its way out in a desperate attempt to claim answers where none seem to exist.

A sigh escapes him, releasing a gust of frozen air from his chest. “No, nothing yet.”

A familiar room greets us, doused in the gentle light of moonbeams filtering through open windows. He sets me down beside his bed, and my knees nearly buckle, not from weakness but from the weight of my crushing new reality.

“Let me help you.” His deft hands loosen the buttons on the back of my tunic. There’s a practiced ease to his movements, the soldier in him efficient even with such an intimate task.

Once I’m undressed, he pulls back the covers of his bed, folding me safely inside them.

I reach out and grasp his hand. “Stay with me.”

Sterling pauses, his gaze searching mine. “Always.”

He strips down to his underclothes, then slides into bed beside me. It’s his warmth I crave, the solid certainty of his presence. When he holds me, it’s as if he’s willing to fight back the night itself.

My mind drifts, the edges of sleep tugging at me once more, and Dowager Queen Alannah’s prayer whispers through my thoughts.

A balm to the raw wound of loss.

I’m loved—cherished even—despite the gaping hole left by my mother’s absence.

“I’m an…orphan. I was blessed with four parents who would move mountains to keep me safe. And now I have none.” Tears well in my eyes.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Sterling murmurs, his breath stirring the hair at my temple. He runs his calloused hand through my locks, each stroke a promise of steadfast protection.

And in this moment, held tight within Sterling’s embrace, I allow myself the luxury of surrendering to grief. For now, I am safe. For now, I am not alone.

But I am no one’s childe anymore.

Just as the prophecy foretold.

ChapterSixteen

Rhiann takes one glimpse at my exhausted, grief-ravaged face the next morning and bustles out of the room. She returns carrying a tray laden with steaming cloths and small jars of salve. The calming scents of lavender and chamomile waft into the room, soothing the jagged edges of my headache.

“Lie down and close your eyes.”

I follow her instructions, and she applies warm, citrus-scented compresses to my face. My stuffy nose eases almost instantly. She swaps out cloths, ending with smaller cold ones placed over my eyes that smell like cucumbers.

The ministrations remind me of my sister. “How’s Leesa doing today, do you know?”

Rhiann clucks her tongue. “Not well, I’m afraid. More headaches. It’s beyond anything I can soothe, so I summoned a healer. He advises rest and silence for the day.”

Guilt gnaws at me. “I should be there with her.”

“You must first take care of yourself before you help others.” Rhiann plucks the cold compresses from my eyes, and I cautiously blink them open. “Though I don’t think staying in bed all day is the right remedy. I haven’t known you long, but I have a feeling keeping your mind occupied will be the best medicine.”

“You think so?” My tone conveys my doubt.

She surprises me by perching on the edge of my bed and touching my hand. “I understand your loss. I discovered my own mother’s body. She wasn’t murdered as yours was but struck dead just as suddenly. The healer said her heart gave out. While I imagine your shock outweighed mine, my sense of loss was equally strong.”

“I’m so sorry.” Though I reach for something beyond platitudes, I only find the stark landscape of shared suffering. “The suddenness of it is hard to bear.”

“It is.” Her eyes, usually so guarded, flicker with ghosts. “But losing those we love is part of life. Sometimes we lose them with things left unsaid and that hurts even worse, but mostly, the pain proves that we’re living the right way by opening our hearts. Loving others is what makes this all worthwhile, and the pain you’re feeling over your mother’s death honors her. Feel it. Accept it. And know your mother loved you back and will be waiting to greet you in the next world.”

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