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Her eyes take in the landscape, a mix of grass and trees like Irios and craggy rock like Síra. Meren stretches from the far east boundary to the center of the realm, bordering Irios to the west and Síra to the south.
“I don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“The stories.” She bends down to brush her fingers over the dirt, tracing shapes in it and then wiping them away. “They talk only of Videva, Irios, and Síra. What is Meren?”
“An in-between place.”
Her brow creases in a frown, and I step away, resisting the urge to smooth it with my finger. Or my lips.
“In between what?”
“In between punishment and forever.”
Elora swings around to look at me, hands going to her hips, one cocking. The dagger strapped to her thigh glints in the light, and my eyes are drawn to it. I don’t know what she thinks she’ll ever be able to do with a blade here, but damn it all if I don’t like seeing it there.
“Can you be more specific?”
I drag my gaze slowly up her body. Her cheeks are pink when my eyes finally land on her face, and I grin.
“More specific about what?”
Huffing out an annoyed breath, she swings her arm out to indicate the vastness before her. “About your mysterious extra territory.”
I shift on my feet. I’ve never had to explain Meren or its creation to anyone before. My dark court doesn’t question the choices I make regarding my realm, and I’m not entirely sure my brother or his high court know it exists either. Or would even care to know.
The Shadow Realm was created to serve a single purpose. Keep me and those who supported me during the war as far away from Fontoss as possible. I didn’t object because Fontoss was the last place I wanted to be and my brother the last person I wanted to spend my time with.
“Meren is for souls in transition.”
“I thought that’s what Irios was for. Transition from what?” she asks when I give a small shrug.
“What does it matter?”
The stare she gives me is dry and unamused. “Humor me.”
“The Shadow Realm was created with three lands. Irios for souls to find healing and peace from mortal lives filled with pain and grief, Síra to punish those who cannot be redeemed, and Videva to wait until life beckons again.”
Elora nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “As the stories say.”
“The judges and I quickly learned mortal existence is more complicated than that. It isn’t always so black or white, good or bad.”
“So you created a place for the shades of gray. For the in-between.”
“I did. Not all bad deeds are committed by bad people. So in Meren they’re given the opportunity to work off their soul’s debt before transitioning to Irios to heal or Videva to wait.”
“They can transition to Irios?”
Her voice is full of wonder, and I take a step toward her without thinking. “They can. They can drink from the Grense and forget too. Once their debt is paid.”
“You recognized their humanity.” Her eyes drop to my mouth, lingering there for a long moment before she turns and puts distance between us. “I didn’t know the gods were capable of such a thing.”
“We’re just full of surprises. Alas, I cannot indulge you any longer. I have better things to do.” I hold out my hand for hers, but she merely stares at my palm.
“I’d rather walk.”
Rolling my eyes, I reach for her arm, but she dances out of my grasp. “I’m not walking all the way back to the palace when we can shift.”
