Page 117 of Reign of Light
Athick gold frame surrounds my clear reflection as I nervously smooth out the wrinkles in the first dress I’ve worn in years. Tila will scold me if I look like a mess the first time I emerge from this room as queen. The dress is simple, but detailed enough so that everyone who was not in the throne room, everyone who is seeing me for the first time will have no doubts that things have changed.
The woman staring back at me isn’t the girl who stood here years ago, getting ready to leave her kingdom for a chance at a better life. Though she looks almost the same, I can see the subtle differences. The sun-kissed skin that will surely fade the longer she is away from true sunlight. The set of her shoulders pulled back and ready to speak her mind. The glitter in her eye that has known hope but has also seen despair.
She’s endured so much in such a short time. She’s learned to trust, been betrayed, and learned to trust again. She’s learned to love and beloved, not only by a man, but by friends who made her feel whole. She’s lived and hoped and grown, all because she found the strength inside herself to leave the place that held her back, and find something more.
And now she’s the queen.
I wasn’t prepared for my life to change so drastically before I even had time to catch my breath or readjust to the cold, but I have no choice now.
A tall, broad frame appears in the reflection behind me, and I feel Weston’s warm hands settle on the curve of my hips. He leans down and presses a kiss into the side of my neck, right over the skin that is still purple and blue.
“You look beautiful, my queen,” he murmurs against my skin, and goosebumps cover all the exposed flesh that peeks out of the tight bodice. He presses another kiss just above the last, as his arms circle my middle and pull me against his body. Resting his cheek on my hair, he meets my gaze in the mirror.
“I can hear you thinking.”
I grasp his forearms tightly and let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not ready to do this.”
“You don’t have to,” he murmurs. “I will take care of everything as long as you give me permission.”
“But I need to. I will regret it if I don’t.”
His eyes soften as he holds my gaze in the mirror, and I try not to notice the nerves etched into my face.
“It’s normal to doubt yourself and feel you can’t do something, while still staying strong and confident on the outside. If you only knew how many times I look like I know what I’m doing, but inside is a raging storm. You’ve already seen some.”
I think back to what times he might be referencing, because I’ve never thought Weston didn’t have every confidence in his decisions or his abilities. Even when he had the tip of his sword pressed into Dane’s neck, he looked as sure as ever. But back at the ship, back in theinfirmary, he looked ready to explode, and couldn’t even speak to me. My chest tightens at the thought that he was suffering inside more than he was showing.
His thumb slides across the dress at my waist, his slow caress a comfort. “It’s alright to feel like you’re falling. No one needs to know except for the person standing behind, ready to catch you.”
My voice is small when I answer. “I might need you to catch me.”
“Always, my queen.”
I straighten, and Weston follows suit, but one hand stays pressed into the small of my back. “Alright. Let’s go.”
He leads me through the room and opens the door widely, stepping to the side and waiting for me to pass. The moment we are out in the open, his hand drops away, and he lets me take the lead, falling into step closely behind. Our footsteps echo in sync on the stone, and I try to pretend that this is just another walk on the island, back before we knew each other intimately, when he always stood at my back to make sure I didn’t actually fall.
I’ve been dreading this moment for days and doing my best not to think about it as it loomed over us, but I need to move forward. Move on. I’d gone my entire life without being in this part of the castle, and now, after everything and the memories it holds, I want to stay away from it for another twenty-three years. Unfortunately, there is no other option.
The corridors leading toward the dungeon get colder as we descend, and I’m grateful for the thick fabric and long sleeves that help ward off the chill. That we survived down here in the cold after leaving the humid heat of the island still amazes me, and I make a mental note to tell Weston to ensure the prisoners are kept warm.
They may be traitors, but I’m not a monster. That isn’t the queen I want to be.
A new set of guards was assigned to the dungeon antechamber after Weston questioned the involvement of the previous set, and he musthave made sure they were aware we were coming. When I step into the doorway, they are already standing at attention, waiting for us to pass through.
“My queen,” Weston mumbles, and I step to the side, giving him just enough room to pass by. He strides across the room and pulls open the dungeon door before stepping to the side and ushering me through.
“Your Majesty,” the guards say in unison as they each fall into a deep bow when I pass by. The keys on a large ring jingle as the guard closest to him reaches out and hands them to Weston, before he wordlessly leads me through the corridor. I follow a few paces behind, trying to slow my breathing and push away the memories of Weston being overpowered and beaten the last time I walked through these halls.
“Back away from the bars!” Weston shouts, the threat of enforcement clear in his voice. He turns back toward me, and his voice lowers to a murmur. “Stand near the wall as far from the cell as you can.”
I nod, and my agreement must be enough for him because he turns back and continues to lead us through the dark and frigid hallway.
“On your feet for your queen!” he barks again. The command is followed by the scuffle of movement from some cells, but it is obvious it did not come from all of them.
I pull my shoulders back as we walk, keeping my chin held high. I refuse to let any of them see any of the vulnerability I feel coursing through my body. It will also ensure that they see firsthand what I endured and survived in their failed attack.
As I pass by, I look into each cell but don’t recognize most of the guards locked away. Some cells have multiple men inside, despite Weston’s command to keep them separate, and it makes me sick to my stomach to think that we didn’t have enough cells for the number of guards involved in the plot.
