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Then, she would do what she should have done in the first place.

Reclaim her throne.

But first, there was something she had to do.

Thicket’s damp footsteps echoed around her as she walked straight into the heart of the dam. The last time she had come here, she had been a shell of herself, desperate for something to give her the edge she already possessed. She didn’t entirely know what brought her here this time. Perhaps she still sought the slightest bit of reassurance. Or maybe she just didn’t want to face Lavender alone.

Either way, she would be fine.

The Sculptor was sequestered in the corner, rearranging its collection of wood. It glanced up at her as she approached. “Welcome back, Your Highness. What brings you here today?”

Thicket swallowed but kept her chin held high, leaving no room for doubt. “I am here to claim another totem.”

The Sculptor’s metal teeth glinted. “It’s about time.”

Thicket’s thighs were stiff after riding all night and well into the day. By the time she dismounted, dusk stained the sky a peaceful shade of purple, fitting in well with the cool gray bricks and indigo roofing that made up the city of Minloc. It made the kingdom look like a dreamscape, bathed in lilac starlight and tucked in around fluffy clouds. Her hands shook as she freed the horse from its reins and watched it gallop back down the street towards the lush green hills surrounding the city.

Now that she was off the horse and the world around her was still, Thicket started to feel anxious. It was funny how barreling full speed towards her fate didn’t terrify her as much as slowing down and taking in the sight of the city she had grown up in. It only reminded her how desolate it was now. How forgotten.

The hollow echo of her footsteps followed her as she tread across the streets towards the castle. Every stone, brick, and window was flawlessly intact, yet every house and street was barren of life—except for the astromeia vines. Unlike Bilya, which had been overrun by the vines, the astromeia in Minloc was perfectly tamed. By the way the vines had hardened to take on a woody stem, she had the impression they had been here for a long time, trimmed constantly so as not to let it be overrun. A city that maintained a perfect balance of controlled wildness.

The ground beneath her feet started to shift from perfectly paved bricks to large stones flattened into the dirt, leading into a garden teeming with enchanting foliage. Blush pink rose bushes were nestled in with delicate, bell shaped blossoms and flowers with shaggy, periwinkle blue petals. Above it all, more astromeia arched above, winding across arched trellises. The buds were in various states of bloom as they began to close for the night, but in the glittering dusk light, it gave the illusion that stars hung from the sky.

At the end of the tunnel, a pale stone gate opened to display Minloc’s castle. It was a magnificent feat of architecture, demonstrating the power and riches Vindrya once had. What a waste, Thicket thought, for it to house only one cruel individual. With the streets as empty as the lonely sea, the light as shadowed as the darkest confines of a forest, it erased all that there could be—the dancing, the music, the light, the laughter. Thicket wanted that to pour out the windows and into the city beyond, calling others to its walls. She wanted it to be a place that was admired and beloved. Not a place of haunting fear.

She craned her neck around the gate, careful not to prick her fingers on the astromeia’s thorns. Three crystal deer guarded the massive double doors. It looked eerily similar to the door she had seen in the hallway right before waking up from the sleeping curse.

This was it. There was no turning back now.

Thicket gripped the totem fastened securely around her neck. In response her Aneuma trilled, sending a wave of warmth pulsing through her body.

She wasn’t alone.

The thought gave her the boost she needed to step out and march up to the castle’s entrance. The deers’ heads swung towards her. Her walk broke into a run. Her heart pounded fiercely and her legs wobbled a bit as her nerves threatened to take over, but she pushed through it.

“Fy—”

The deers’ heads dipped. As they backed away, the castle doors swung open on old, creaking hinges.

Thicket’s incantation died in her throat as the scent of lavender curled through the air, seeming to beckon her inside. It was so potent she could practically see a thin, misty stream of purple hover in the air.

Swallowing, she drew closer, a chill sweeping down her spine as she passed the deer, heads still bowed. She would have felt less apprehensive about fighting her way in. It felt too easy.

It felt like a trap.

She clenched her jaw and rested her hand on the hilt of her sword. Her pinkie finger found Elian’s ring, fastened to the hilt. The smooth feel of the cool metal and the creak of the leather under her hands gave her the strength she needed to step inside the castle.

As soon as she passed the threshold, the doors behind her slammed shut. She flinched, entire body going on edge. She felt hyperaware of everything around her. The harsh shadows cast by the light emanating from the sconces along the walls. The ringing silence of the empty foyer. And the potent scent of lavender. The mist was more vibrant now, leading her up the wide stairwell and disappearing down one of the corridors.

If she had to guess where Lavender was, it would be the throne room. She had no memory of the castle and with how gargantuan it was, it could take her all night to locate it.

The lavender scent swirled around her feet, seeming to beckon her closer. Her instinct was to run back out the doors and put as much distance as she could between her and the horrid scent, but she steeled her resolve and climbed the steps.

As she followed the mist through corridor after corridor, Thicket became all too aware of the lack of candlelight. She had grown accustomed to seeing the multi-colored flames inside buildings, but it seemed the castle favored the glowing orbs of light instead. She wondered if this was the norm for Minloc, or if perhaps something her sister had altered during the century she had remained here.

The further she drew into the castle, the thicker the mist became. She turned a corner and all of a sudden it vanished. A pair of double doors lay at the hall’s end. Astromeia vines made of plated gold lined the door frame, wrapping around to the knobs shaped like astromeia buds.

Thicket knew exactly what lay beyond them.