Page 53 of The Reaping Rose

The design is reminiscent of my sister’s magic. As volatile as it is captivating.

Selia Riven was a force to be reckoned with. Like her power, feeding the realm with rain one moment and decimating it with her storms the next. Selia spent her years as unpredictable as any cloud. And when she passed to Sarrow, the storms dulled with her crossing.

My eyes close as the forest hums around me.

Selia isn’t beneath the ground here, of course. She was burned at Starlight Reach on a cloudy day as she would have wanted. It was as if the clouds cast a soft gray blanket over Quietus just for her, parting only when the last of her ashes blew out to sea. The sky cleared, and then there were only stars left to mock me.

Selia was gone.

Elorie was out of reach.

There I was, alone with the outcome of my mistakes.

My mother and I often had differing opinions when it came to war, but as I stood at that cliff, I saw a glimpse of what carved her merciless heart. To fight for a kingdom requires sacrifice.

Blood.

Loss.

My sister paid the dues of our Crown with her body and soul. Gave her life for our people, who now hate her for the manner in which she went about protecting them. They will only ever see her clinging to Malachi, without understanding that she had no other choice. Not when their queen put her in that position.

After Selia’s death, my people spat at my sister’s memory. If only they knew that she did it for them.

For me.

For the vision my mother swore was the key to saving our realm.

Now I’m left to see it through. A male who should have Cleaved protecting his queen but didn’t. A male who the fates spared, but I don’t know why. A male who barely managed to save his mate on multiple occasions. Yet they expect me to save this realm.

Elorie’s scent fills the courtyard before she steps through the trees, coming into view.

My hand slips from the stone, my magic with it. Aether slithers along the ground, reaching for my mate without thought or restraint. It surges with this need to taste her.

A forced smile plays on her lips. “Atlas told me you were out here. I hope you don’t mind if I join you.”

“Of course not.”

She grips the bundle of white lilies in her hands. “I brought these for Selia. Back home, we used white flowers to honor those we’ve lost.”

Elorie rests the flowers on my sister’s pillar.

Selia was less than kind to Elorie in the Ley Court, leaving Elorie with no reason to sympathize with my sister’s sacrifice. But here she stands, pausing at the marble column and bowing her head. Paying her respects as she did on the island. Whether they be human or Fae—villager or prisoner—Elorie saw no difference. I’d sit in the darkness of my cell and listen to the prayers she offered them all, regardless of who they were or what they’d done.

If heart was stronger than steel in battle, we’d have no trouble winning this war with hers.

Elorie’s mouth moves silently, and I leave her to her private thoughts rather than slip along the thread. I don’t need to read what she’s thinking for my chest to tighten at this gesture. My kingdom hates my sister, but Elorie stands here, respecting her sacrifice.

When Elorie lifts her gaze, her freckles shine brighter against her pale cheeks.

“I didn’t think there were graveyards outside of the human realm.” She glances around at the marble pillars. “We were told it was a human custom to mark the remains of the dead.”

“It is.” I tuck my hands in my pockets. “We adopted it from them. My mother admired how the humans paid their respects.”

“Clearly that sentiment wasn’t shared by the Ley Court.” Her tone is as bitter as her thoughts as she glances around the graves. “You’d think with so much death, we’d be immune to the pain after a while.”

“Once you are, you’re no longer living.” I take a breath, soaking in the aether in the air. “Death is the only constant.”

“That and the fates.” Elorie touches the rune on her chest, but I feel it through my own. A caress on her skin has mine prickling.