“I did.” He nodded and sniffled again, but he seemed to have stopped crying. “I really did care about her. Elora was a very complicated woman, but she was a good woman. She knew she had to be Queen first, and everything else came after.”
“She told me she regretted that,” I said quietly. “She said she wished she’d made different choices and put the people she cared about first.”
“She meant you.” Garrett smiled at me, and it was both sorrowful and loving. “She loved you so much, Wendy. Not a day went by that she didn’t think about you or talk about you. Before you came back, when you were still a child, she’d sit in her parlor and paint you. She’d focus all her energy on you, just so she could see you.”
“She used to paint me?” I asked, surprised.
“You didn’t know?” Garrett asked.
I shook my head. “She never mentioned it.”
“Come on. I’ll show you.”
Garrett headed down the hall, and I went with him. I’d seen the room where Elora kept her precognitive paintings locked away in the north wing, and I thought about telling Garrett that. But I hadn’t seen any paintings of me as a child. She’d only had a few of me as a teenager.
He led me all the way down the hall. At the very end, across the hall from my old bedroom, Garrett pushed on a wall. I didn’t understand what he was doing, and then the wall swung forward. It was a door built to blend in seamlessly with the walls.
“I didn’t know that was there,” I said in dismay.
“Once you’re Queen, I’ll show you all the secrets of the palace.” Garrett held the door open for me. “And believe me, there are quite a few.”
I stepped through the door to find a small room. Its only purpose was to house a narrow spiral staircase. I glanced back at Garrett, but he gestured for me to go ahead. He stayed a step behind me as I went up the creaking iron stairs.
Before we even reached the top, I could see the paintings. Skylights in the ceiling lit the room, and I stepped onto the hardwood floor. It was small, a hidden attic room with a peaked roof. But the walls were covered with paintings, all of them hung carefully a few inches apart. And all of the paintings were of me.
Elora’s meticulous brushstrokes made them almost look like photographs. They showed me in all stages of my life. At a birthday party when I was young, with cake on my face. A scraped knee when I was three, with Maggie helping me put on a Band-Aid. At a failed dance recital when I was eight, pulling at my tutu. In my backyard, on the swings, with Matt pushing me. Curled up in my bed, reading It by flashlight when I was twelve. Caught in the rain when I was fifteen, trudging home from school.
“How?” I asked, staring in awe at all the paintings. “How did she do this? Elora told me she couldn’t choose what she saw.”
“She couldn’t, not really,” Garrett said. “She never picked when she saw you, and it took a lot of her energy to focus on you, to see you. But . . . it was worth it for her. It was the only way she could watch you grow up.”
“It took a lot?” I turned back to him with tears in my eyes. “You mean it aged her a lot.” I gestured to the walls. “This is the reason why she looked fifty when I met her? This is why she died of old age before she even turned forty?”
“Don’t look at it like that, Wendy.” Garrett shook his head. “She loved you, and she needed to see you. She needed to know you were all right. So she painted these. She knew how much it cost her, and she did it gladly.”
For the first time, I truly realized what I had lost. I’d had a mother who loved me my entire life, and I hadn’t been able to see her. Even after I met her, I didn’t get to really know her, not until it was too late.
I began to sob, and Garrett came over to me. Somewhat awkwardly, he hugged me, letting me cry on his shoulder.
After I’d gotten it all out, he walked me back down to my room. He apologized for upsetting me, but I was glad he had. I needed to see that, to know about the paintings. I went to bed and tried not to cry myself to sleep.
In the morning, I knew I had much to do, so I rose early and went down to the kitchen to grab breakfast. I only made it as far as the stairs when I heard arguing in the main hall. I stopped and peered down over the railing to see what the fuss was about.
Thomas was talking to his wife, Annali, and their twelve-year-old daughter, Ember. They were Finn’s mom and sister, his family, but Finn wasn’t around. Thomas kept his voice hushed, but Annali was insistent. Ember kept trying to pull away, but Annali had a firm grip on her arm and wouldn’t let her go.
“Thomas, if it’s that dangerous, you and Finn should come with us,” Annali said, staring up at him. “He is my son too, and I don’t want him in harm’s way because of some misplaced sense of duty.”
“It’s not misplaced, Annali.” Thomas sighed. “This is to protect our kingdom.”
“Our kingdom?” Annali scoffed. “What has this kingdom ever done for us? They barely pay you enough to feed our children! I have to raise goats to keep a roof over our head!”
“Annali, hush.” Thomas held his hands up to her. “People will hear you.”
“I don’t care if they hear me!” Annali shouted. “Let them hear me! I hope they banish us! I want them to! Then finally we can be a family instead of being ruled by this awful monarchy!”
“Mom, don’t say that.” Ember squirmed and pulled away from her mother. “I don’t want to be banished. All my friends are here.”
“You’ll make new friends, Ember, but you only have one family,” Annali said.
“Which is exactly why you need to go away,” Thomas said. “It’s not safe here. The Vittra will be coming very soon, and you need to be hidden.”
“I will not go away without you or my son,” Annali said firmly. “I have stood by you through much worse, and I will not lose you now.”
“I will be safe,” Thomas said. “I can fight. So can Finn. You need to protect our daughter. When this is all over, we can go away together, if that’s what you want. I promise you I will leave with you. But right now you need to take Ember.”
“I don’t want to go!” Ember whined. “I want to help you fight! I’m as strong as Finn!”
“Please,” Thomas begged. “I need you safe.”
“Where do you expect us to go?” Annali asked.
“Your sister is married to a Kanin,” Thomas said. “You can stay with them. Nobody will look for you there.”
“How will I know when you’re safe?” Annali asked.
“I’ll come for you when it’s over.”
“What if you never come?”
“I will come for you,” Thomas said firmly. “Now go. I don’t want you traveling at the same time as the Vittra. They’re not something you want to mess with.”
“Where is Finn?” Annali asked. “I want to say good-bye to him.”
“He’s with the other trackers,” Thomas said. “Go home. Pack your things. I’ll send him down to talk to you.”
“Fine,” Annali said reluctantly. “But when you come for me, you better bring my son with you, alive and intact. If not, you might as well not come at all.”
He nodded. “I know.”
Annali stared up at her husband for a moment, not saying anything.
“Ember, say good-bye to your father,” Annali said. Ember started to protest, and Annali pulled at her arm. “Now, Ember.”
Ember did as she was told. She hugged Thomas, and he kissed her cheek. Annali cast one more look at Thomas over her shoulder, and then she and Ember left through the front door. Thomas stayed behind for a moment, his whole body sagging.
He’d sent his family away to protect them. He’d seen the painting the same as I had, and he knew the destruction that was set to befall the palace. It was no place for innocent bystanders.
But then something occurred to me. I had been trying to find a way to change the outcome of the painting, to do something that would alter the course of events and make it so we wouldn’t all die, and I finally figured it ou
t.
TWENTY-TWO
offense
We take the fight to them,” I said, and I was met with five blank stares.
Thomas, Tove, Willa, Finn, and Loki stood across from me, none of them looking pleased with what I proposed. I’d called them all into the War Room to discuss things, but so far I’d done most of the talking.
“That’s your grand idea?” Loki asked, looking vaguely bemused, and that was the most positive response I’d gotten. “Get killed there instead of here?”
“The idea is not to get killed anywhere,” I said and leaned back against the table behind me.
“Well, if this is what you want to do, Wendy, I’ll support it,” Willa said, sounding reluctant. “But I don’t know how much it will help. The Vittra will have home-field advantage.”
“Loki knows his way around the Vittra palace.” I gestured to Loki, who grimaced when I volunteered him to lead the way. “And we’ll surprise them. That was how Finn survived the hobgoblin attack before.”
“I barely survived that, Princess,” Finn reminded me. “And we don’t have much of an element of surprise. The Vittra are about to come here and take the kingdom. As soon as they get word of your ascension to the throne, they’ll be on their way.”
“That’s why we need to move now,” I said.
“Now?” Finn and Willa said in unison, both shocked.
“Yes.” I nodded. “I’ve arranged to have my coronation in two hours. Then I’m Queen, and my first order as the ruling monarch will be to declare war against the Vittra. We will go to them, we will attack, and we will win.”
“You want to hit them tonight?” Tove asked.
“Yes, when they’re sleeping,” I said. “It’s the best chance we have.”
“Princess, I don’t know if that’s possible.” Thomas shook his head. “We can’t plan a full-scale attack in a few hours.”
“As soon as the King finds out I’m Queen, he will be at our door with an army of hobgoblins.” I pointed toward the door to emphasize my point. “We are talking a matter of days here. What more can we do in the next two days that will be superior to attacking the Vittra when they’re unprepared?”
“I don’t know,” Thomas admitted. “But it doesn’t mean we should embark on a suicide mission.”
“You’re talking suicide?” I asked. “You saw the painting. Your son is dead. Everyone in this room, except for you, is dead.” I paused, letting that sink in. “We have to do something to change that.”
“Attacking the Vittra palace will only change the location of where we die,” Finn said.
“Maybe so,” I agreed. “But so what?I have read book after book of Trylle history. And you know what it says? We concede. We wait. We avoid. We only defend. We never stand up and fight for ourselves.
“And now is the time to fight. This is our last chance. Not just ours, as in the people in this room, but our entire kingdom’s last chance to stand up and fight against the Vittra. If we don’t do this now, they will conquer us.”
“That’s a shame,” Willa said, looking awed.
“What is?” I asked.
“That you used that speech now instead of saving it to help me convince the Markis and Marksinna to go fight with us tonight,” Willa said.
“So it’s agreed, then?” I asked.
“You know that I’ll always have your back,” Tove said. “No matter what.”
Loki nodded grimly. “I almost hate to say it, but yes, I’m with you. I’ll attack the Vittra tonight.”
“I still think there’s a better way,” Thomas said. “But I don’t know what it is. If this is the best we have, then this is what we must do.”
“Is there nothing that can convince you to stay?” Finn asked.
I shook my head. “This is my fight as much as it is yours, if not more. I will be there.”
“Fine.” Finn sighed. “Then I’m in too.”
I wanted to smile. I felt like I should, to seal the deal somehow, but I didn’t. My stomach was twisted too much.
“We have a few hours until we leave, then?” Thomas asked.
“Yes,” I said. “After my coronation.”
“I suppose that I need to brief everyone on the layout of the Vittra palace,” Loki said.
“That would be helpful, yes,” I said.
Loki scratched the back of his neck and looked over at Finn. “Let’s get to it, then.”
Loki, Finn, and Thomas went to deal with the schematics of the attack, and Willa had the harder job of convincing the higher Trylle to fight today. Tove had to go with me, because he had to be crowned King.
We waited in our chambers, and we discussed the Vittra a bit, but mostly we said nothing. There was so much to do and so little to say.
Markis Bain came in to officiate the coronation. It was normally a large ceremony, a huge spectacle for the entire kingdom to attend, but we didn’t have time for that. Duncan was on hand to witness, and Bain swore us in.
With a few simple words and a quick signature on a piece of paper, we were King and Queen.
Tove immediately left to talk to his mother. He needed to convince her to join the attack on the Vittra. Her healing powers would be invaluable in battle. Duncan went down to work with the trackers. I would follow him soon, but first I needed to take a moment to breathe.
I stared out the window. The snow had taken a break. It was just above freezing, and the air was thick with winter fog. Heavy white frost covered all the branches, like they had been wrapped in it.
“My Queen,” Loki said from behind me, and I turned around to see him smiling.
“You’re the first one to call me that.”
“How does it feel?” he asked, sauntering over. He touched a vase sitting on the table, then looked at me. “Do you feel like Your Royal Highness yet?”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “But I don’t know that I ever did.”
“You’ll have to get used to it,” Loki said with a smirk. “I predict a long reign ahead of you. Years of being referred to as Your Majesty, Your Grace, Your Excellence, My Liege, My Queen, My Lovely.”
“I don’t think that last one is a formal title,” I said.
“It should be.” Loki stopped in front of me, his eyes sparkling. “You are a vision, especially with that crown.”
“The crown.” I blushed and took it off. “I forgot I was wearing it.” It was truly stunning, but I felt ridiculous in it. “I had to wear it for the ceremony, but . . . that’s over now.”
“It is a beautiful crown.” Loki took it from me, admiring its intricacies for a moment, before setting it aside. He stepped closer to me, so we were nearly touching, and I stared up at him.
“How are things going?” I asked. “Does our army understand the layout of the Vittra palace?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No, I’m not going to do this,” Loki said, his voice firm but low. His hand went to my waist, feeling warm even through the layers of fabric. “Everything is about to go to hell very quickly, so I want one moment where we don’t talk about that. We pretend it doesn’t exist. I want one last quiet moment with you.”
“No, Loki.” I shook my head, but I didn’t pull away. “I told you that was one night and it could never happen again.”
“And I told you that one night wasn’t enough.”
Loki leaned down, kissing me deeply and pressing me to him. I didn’t even attempt to resist. I wrapped my arms around his neck. It wasn’t the way we had kissed before, not as hungry or fevered. This was something different, nicer.
We were holding on to each other, knowing this might be the last time we could. It felt sweet and hopeful and tragic all at once.
When he stopped kissing me he rested his forehead against mine. He breathed as if struggling to catch his breath. I reached up and touched his face, his skin smooth and cool beneath my hand.
Loki lifted his head so he could look me in the eyes, and I saw something in them, something I’d neve
r seen before. Something pure and unadulterated, and my heart seemed to grow with the warmth of my love for him.
I don’t know how it happened or when it had, but I knew it with complete certainty. I had fallen in love with Loki, more intensely than anything I had felt for anyone before.
“Wendy!” Finn shouted, pulling me from my moment with Loki. “What are you doing? You’re married! And not to him!”
“Nothing slips by you, does it?” Loki asked.
“Finn,” I said and stepped away from Loki. “Calm down.”
“No!” Finn yelled. “I will not calm down! What were you thinking? We’re about to go to war, and you’re cheating on your husband?”
“Everything’s not exactly the way it seems,” I said, but guilt and regret were gripping my stomach.
My marriage might be over, but I was still technically wed to another man. And I should be worrying about things more important than kissing Loki.
“It seemed like you had your tongue down his throat.” Finn glared at us both.
“Well, then, everything is exactly as it seems,” Loki said glibly.
“Loki, can you give us a moment alone?” I asked. He sighed and looked like he was about to protest. “Loki. Now.”
“As you wish, my Queen,” Loki muttered.
He walked past Finn as he left the room, giving him one more discerning glare, but they said nothing to each other. Loki shut the doors behind him, leaving Finn and me alone in my room.
“What were you thinking?” Finn asked, sounding at a loss for words.
“I was thinking that we’re about to go to war, and my mother just died,” I said. “Life is so very, very short, and I . . . I love him.”
Finn winced. He looked away from me, and he chewed the inside of his cheek. It broke my heart to hurt him, but he needed to hear the truth.
“You barely know him,” Finn said carefully.
“I know.” I nodded. “I don’t know how to explain it. But . . . it is what it is.”
“It is what it is?” He laughed darkly and rolled his eyes. “Your love must not mean much, the way you throw it around. It wasn’t that long ago you pledged it all to me, and here you are—”
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