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My betrothed is going to be the emperor.
What would that make me, then?
Empress?
But first, Corvan needs to return. I know he’s immensely powerful, with godlike abilities and formidable battle skills, but even he must have a weakness.
I’m afraid for him, and yet there’s nothing I can do.
It’s all so overwhelming.
That’s why I’ve requested to return to the inner gardens. The small chambers they’ve given me feel stifling and cold. I need to feel the fresh air on my face; to look up and see the stars in the night sky.
I need to inhale the scent of the freshly budding blooms and new leafy growth.
Icravethese things, more than ever before.
I feel like I’m going mad, and not just because ofnot knowing.
My body feels strange. As if lightning is dancing through me. Magical energy rippling through my veins, with no way to find release.
If only I could harness that feeling I had before, when I momentarily bent the trees to my will and the magic bubbled over and sent roots out of my body and into the ground.
Unbelievable, isn’t it?
I’ve scanned the books in Valdon’s secret library. I’ve learned that my mother’s kind are powerful and that the ancient heart-seed is supposed to protect me. In theory, Ishouldbe able to manipulate the trees and even wood that’s long dead.
I just don’t knowhow.
Apparently, a dryad is just supposed to know from the beginning. It’s an instinctive thing.
We reach the garden. Einvar opens the door. Kharuk ushers me through. They begin to follow me.
I turn around and hold up my hand. “Would you mind giving me a moment? I just need some…space.You can keep an eye on me from the doorway. It isn’t as if anyone can come in here, anyway.”
The guards exchange a glance, some silent communication passing between them.
“As you wish, my lady,” Einvar says at last. “Take as much time as you need.”
“I appreciate it.” I leave them guarding the doorway, watching me through the tall windows as I step out into the small garden. It might have been Valdon Duthriss’s private sanctuary, a place where I comforted my betrothed at the height of his grief, but it still brings me a sense of peace.
When I’m around living things—plants and trees—the wild, brittle magic inside me becomes a little calmer.
It’s growing. It’s changing.
I’mchanging.
And just as I yearn for Corvan, the magic inside me yearns for him too, for when he’s here, we’re in perfect balance.
I look up at the clear night sky. The air is cold and crisp. A soft woollen shawl—given to me by the guards—is draped across my shoulders.
I pull it tighter.
The stars are bright tonight; pinpricks of brilliance in the darkness.
I wonder if Corvan can see these very same stars right now. Or is he caught in some terrible battle?
Whatever he’s doing, I can only put my fear aside and trust him. He’s far too clever to get caught…
