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I step back to slump against the wall, a sense of defeat sweeping over me that I can’t totally explain. “I don’t want to make another mistake. Not when the consequences could ruin the entire country.”
“You wouldn’t,” Rheave insists, but of course he’d say that.
Petra hesitates. Then she moves so she’s directly in front of me and waits until I lift my gaze to meet hers.
“Ivy, I won’t force you to stay involved. I won’t give you any royal commands or demand your obedience against your better judgment. That’s not how I want to rule. But you have to know how much everything you’ve done for this country and for my family means to me. And it’s more than that. What kind of reign will I have if it’s founded on old, unfair prejudices? I’m making my stand now—in every way I need to.”
I choke up abruptly. It takes me a moment to recover my tongue. “That means a lot to me too. I want to be ruled by a queen who follows those principles. I just… I don’t know.”
The conflicting desires twined inside me send a lance of pain through me from throat to belly. My arms shift, my hand coming to rest on the spot on my sternum where most people have a godlen mark.
Where the godlen who went out of his way to claim me once marked me temporarily to save my life.
I don’t fully know how I feel about the gods’ role in creating riven magic. I don’t expect Kosmel to step out of the clouds and point the way. He’s never been so blatant with his advice.
But he has offered guidance when I’ve needed it. I can’t say he’s ever led me astray.
If I’m willing to bow down to a mortal queen, maybe I should welcome the gods all the way into my life, into whatever roles they’re meant to fill.
I push myself off the wall and slip over to the cabin doorway. No one moves to stop me, probably waiting to see what I’m up to.
On the threshold, I scan the forest and pick a dense grove of trees several paces from the building, where the shadows lie most thickly.
Kosmel is the master of the shadows, just as I once liked to think I was. If I can find him anywhere, it’ll be there.
I walk to the grove and kneel at the base of the tree trunks. The roots jutting from the soil dig into my shins.
I tip my head up to the patch of gloom cast by the overlapping leaves above me.
Kosmel, I think, sending my mental voice out into the world, you helped me get this far. I don’t know what I’m meant to do now. Have I accomplished everything you hoped for? How should I go forward if I want to see this woman reclaim her throne?
I’m not surprised that my head stays silent. The leaves rustle overhead, and a faint caw reaches my ears, as if a crow has flown nearby.
Then all at once a breeze gusts up and blows through the high branches.
Even as my hair whips around my face with the blast of wind, I take in a sudden burst of light. The leaves sway to the sides, and sunlight pours down where once there was only shadows.
A quiver of understanding runs down the center of me. I keep staring up at the branches as they settle back into place.
Thank you, I say silently.
The sign he sent has left a renewed light in my chest as well. As I get to my feet, an almost giddy sensation tickles through my limbs.
I never really wanted to back away. I’ve fought so long to protect my country.
I want to see that mission through to the end.
I choose my words carefully through the growing thrum of my pulse. “I think… I think I’m meant to show the truth. To help you come out of the shadows so people can see you as you truly are. Which means we need these trials to happen fast, so I’d better start brainstorming.”
Thirty-Five
Casimir
The rasp of saws and hiss of sandpaper travels through the wide forest clearing. I could barely make out the sounds of human work when I was approaching this spot, thanks to a combination of magical effects created by a few different gifts working together, but now it drifts around me in an almost comforting rhythm.
Almost, because despite the care the workers are obviously taking, a sense of urgency permeates the air. Everything needs to be finished within the next day if we’re going to have any hope of superseding Lothar’s trials.
This is our last chance. No matter what doubts about the Order of the Wild we’ve sown, no matter what promises Petra has made, if the scourge sorcerers can set her up to look like a failure of a ruler in a public spectacle, I don’t know how she’d ever win over the country.
