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The only thing he cared about was the relief he felt at not having to look at himself. Never having to look at that repulsive visage again. Not as it was.

Without a care for the shards beneath his feet, he made for a cupboard in the wall and gathered what he needed.

If Brand was different, then he’d better start looking it.

It was too fair outside to be standing before the Dominion of Demons and waiting to have her head bitten off. The Great Hall was shining, as clean as Lunara had ever seen it, and the damned birds were chirping so loudly in the evergreens looming above that she heard them through the sealed windows.

Unconscionably thoughtless of the Montrealm to be so bleeding cheery.

The audacity. She was tempted to march through all of Straelon and scream it into somber compliance. Why should she have to plaster a serene smile onto her face to match the setting, instead of the whole damned realm roiling with black storms to match the one inside of her?

And why did shite keep happening that ripped the hope and excitement away as soon as she let herself feel it?

No. Don’t let it steal your light. He’s there, and he needs you. Fuck the rest of it.

Fuck the rest of it.

Lunara shook herself. She was determined to have this conversation officially. Respectfully. Lyriat was her friend, yes, but she unwittingly made a mess and it was only right that she cleaned it up properly.

In a way. Kind of.

It’s fine. You’re fine. This is Lyriat.

As ever at this time of the morning, the tables were stored away, allowing citizens to group on either side of an aisle in front of the throne. She ignored the fact that she was a coward and slipped in as Lyriat was finishing his hearings, and that those who’d come to bear witness were already funneling out through the double doors to go about the rest of their day.

At least none of them will be around to watch while you eat your pride.

When the doors closed behind the last of them, the thought wasn’t much of a comfort. Not when the nearly-empty hall was yawning around her and she suddenly felt very much alone.

Except for the king and his grimacing twin cousins.

Lyriat eyed her for an interminable moment before he said, “Step forward, Lunara the Moonweaver, and air your grievance.”

She fumbled her way through a curtsy and met the king’s mossy stare—bruised and red-rimmed, his exhaustion evident. “No grievance, Your Majesty. I owe you an apology.”

He raised an imperious brow, every inch the monarch. “I believe you owe me many apologies.”

Ah. Um…

“How bad is it?” she asked.

The silence was deafening. It was more awkward than she ever imagined speaking to him this way, and she resisted the urge to fiddle with her hair or squirm in place. Hedda and Faldir burning holes into her alongside him was not helping.

Lyriat drew in a sharp breath and began ticking off fingers. “The Chieftains of the Westrealm called for you to stand trial. The missive was rather…colorful. The four Wolflords you removed from their post likewise sought retribution, not for the danger you put them in, but for the area left unprotected in their absence. Your misting everyone here and disappearing again to do battle in another realm is the reason for a considerable amount of damage done to castle property, as well as the loss of an entire night’s sleep on my part trying to sort it out. Oh, and Nachthelliae got involved, the Elder Council falsely claiming some ancient sanction for Realm Rulers that hasn’t been invoked in an age, because they apparently think no one else is capable of saving your arse.”

There was plenty she wanted to say, but Lunara bit her tongue and settled for, “I see.”

She did, and she didn’t. Understanding the why behind the various reactions was not the same as agreeing with them. It wouldn’t help her to be combative, though. Frankly, she didn’t have the energy—Lunara was too busy using most of it to ignore the implication that she was an actual Realm Ruler.

Ridiculous.

“That said…” Lyriat brandished the letter from the cave, the paper trembling in his hand. “I am aware these were extenuating circumstances, and that it’s possible I owe you thanks in return. As such, I believe we may be at an impasse.”

O…kay…

“I regret causing so much distress.” Mostly. Sort of. Well, not really. Not when it meant they were safe. Alive. “I never meant to upset everyone. After the caves… And then Brand, he… Well, I didn’t think I had much of a choice but to do what I did.” She swallowed, pushing her shoulders back. “Still, I accept any consequences.”

There. That was about as good as she could do without screeching the castle down.