The following days in Valenfor passed not in peace, but in steady labor. The capital had survived the long night, but that was only the beginning of what was to come. Now, everyone had to pitch in and help repair the damage.

  The cleanup had been brutal. Bodies—ghoul and human alike—littered the streets. Luckily, the quick response of the emperor and the church to the potential body count was heavily reduced. However, the amount was still enough to fill the pyres to the brim and fill the air with the stench of ash and rot.

  Yet amid death, life persisted with stubborn determination. Bakers reopened their shops. Tavern keepers swept broken glass from their floors and lit their hearths again.

  While the Warlock Emperor left the following morning, so too did Selene and Morgan. However, the two of them returned to The Hallows, but returned the following days to help with the cleanup. Their presence alone rapidly increased the speed of reconstruction and aid given to the people. Morgan spent hours in the healing wards; no healer could match her speed or overwhelming power. The rooms of the injured were healed in moments.

  Selene focused her talents on coordinating the mages. She was to be the future Empress, so it was more important for her to be in places where more people could see her. She raised stone golems to remove debris faster than a squad of knights and reconstruct entire districts in moments, where it could have taken weeks to accomplish even half.

  When Selene and Morgan were finally ready to depart in earnest, most of the destruction had been repaired. Only faint scars remained, but even those would heal in time.

  Lyssara Caelthorne waited by the palace gates in travel leathers, a pack slung across her shoulders.

  "So, you're sure you're ready?" Selene asked.

  Lyssara bowed her head, the gesture respectful. "Of course. The Hallows represent everything those with the gift dream of."

  Selene's expression softened slightly. "The libraries are nearly endless. Some sections haven't been fully cataloged in over a century. You will be able to explore as much as you like."

  Lyssara's amber eyes brightened with barely contained excitement. "I won't disappoint you, Lady Selene."

  "See that you don't." Selene allowed herself a small smirk. "And try to avoid losing your head in the libraries. We've had scholars forget to eat for days when they discover particularly fascinating texts."

  "I will do my best." Lyssara smiled, earnest and determined.

  "I won't be able to stick to the Libraries anyway. Princess Seraphine wants me to take her on a tour when they arrive at The Hallows, so I'll need to familiarize myself."

  A rush of wind announced the arrival of Isolde. She descended from above, her landing gentle despite the speed of her approach.

  "I cannot return with you," she said the moment her feet touched down.

  "I am still a Saintess of the Sanctum. There is work to be done here." She paused, jaw tightening. "And I still lack the feats required to stand as a High Saint."

  Selene studied Isolde; she could see the loss of her usual luster. "You're exhausted."

  "I'm fine." Isolde's reply was defensive. Then she softened slightly. "I promise I'll rest. Later. I still have duties to conclude."

  “Exhausting yourself to death doesn’t count as duty,” Selene said dryly.

  "I know." Isolde exhaled slowly, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "I know."

  Selene shifted topics before the moment could become too heavy. "And Eryndor?"

  Isolde's expression flickered between pride and exasperation. "He spends most of his time with Aelun now. The elf is teaching him movement and bow techniques. He's also engrossed himself in fusion magic. Your influence, no doubt." She motioned towards Lyssara.

  Isolde tried to sound indifferent about the arrangement; she failed spectacularly. "I trust him. Mostly."

  "Even with his infinite life span, Aelun does not waste his time," Morgan observed. "If he's teaching the boy seriously, then Eryndor has talent worth nurturing."

  "Then you have nothing to worry about," Selene said. "You can teach him once Aelun is done with him."

  Isolde nodded, "I should go. The Pontifex wants to see me. Probably to get an accurate assessment of my strength." Her expression darkened.

  Resolve entered Isolde's eyes. She turned, and in a rush of wind, she was airborne again.

  Before Selene could process the departure, lightning speared down from a cloudless sky, striking the courtyard stones. Several guards jumped back, hands flying to weapons.

  Lucen appeared in the aftermath. Electricity still danced across his shoulders.

  "Selene," he breathed, taking a step forward. "Just...give me time."

  She lifted a brow, crossing her arms. "Time for what?"

  "When I finish destroying the Demon Hearts," he said, words tumbling out in a rush, "when I have finished this damned assignment. “You’ll never have to wait again. I’ll be right beside you. Always."

  He didn't wait to see her reaction. He didn't want to hear her rejection, or even worse, see her indifference. There was another flash of lightning, and he was gone.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Selene blinked slowly, letting out a sigh of disbelief. "Dramatic fool."

  "He's not at all subtle, is he?" Morgan said, clearly amused by the young Saint's actions.

  "Not at all." Selene rubbed her temples. "He's been like this since we were children. All passion. Filled with a fool's desire to see me happy. With no real understanding of what I want."

  Selene stared off in the direction where Lucen's lightning sparked through the sky. While she was lost in thought, a warm, genuine laugh approached from the palace entrance. Cassian emerged into the courtyard. He looked more like a crown prince than at any time Selene had seen him before. His elegant royal cloak trailed behind him.

  "So," he said lightly. He looked over at Lyssara and back at Selene, "There are three of us now. I think a thank you is in order."

  Selene couldn't help but laugh.

  "Is that right? What exactly am I thanking you for? Tricking me into marriage? Shoving me into a war with a coven of sorcerers? Or, making yourself the center of a very complicated and very unwanted tangle of affections."

  "All of the above, I think," Cassian responded with a smile.

  "A rather awkward triangle—square, now I suppose. Unless you have some other secret lovers I'm unaware of."

  "I wouldn't call any of you lovers. That much I can promise." Selene responded curtly.

  "Well, not yet." Cassian's eyes smoldered as he took in Selene's image. Then his expression turned more serious, though warmth still lingered. "I wanted to say goodbye properly. And to apologize."

  That caught her off guard. "Apologize?"

  "For how things turned out," he said simply. "My father sprang this engagement on both of us. I went along with it because... well... you are fascinating, powerful, completely unlike anyone I'd ever met."

  "While that is flattering, I don't..." Selene went to say, but was cut off by Cassian placing his finger on her lips, and he continued, as he removed his finger.

  "But that doesn't excuse the fact that your freedom was bartered like land or title."

  Selene studied him, searching for deception but found only regret. "You couldn't have stopped your father even if you'd tried."

  "No," Cassian agreed. "But I should have tried anyway." He met her eyes. "So I'm sorry. And I promise. From this point on, I'll do better."

  For a moment, Selene didn't know what to say. Of the three men circling her life, Cassian was perhaps the most dangerous precisely because he was the most reasonable. "Thank you," she said finally. "That means more than you know."

  "I'm taking Lyssara with me to the Hallows," Selene said. "You're welcome to join us for the journey."

  Cassian's expression turned rueful. "Tempting. Truly. But the capital still needs me. When I come to the Hallows for the treaty signing, we'll have much to occupy our time with. Both personal and business."

  "Very well." Selene extended her hand formally. He took it and brushed his lips across her knuckles. He stepped back with a slight bow.

  "Through ash," he said.

  "Life renews," she finished.

  When he departed, striding back toward the palace. The courtyard felt quieter. Emptier.

  Selene turned to Morgan. "I'm ready to go."

  Morgan arched a brow, the gesture speaking volumes. "Are you?"

  Selene frowned. "Yes. Why do you ask?"

  Morgan didn't answer. She simply flicked her eyes to the right, toward the far end of the courtyard.

  Darius was striding toward them, his black armor shining in dark contrast to the white snow. The moment Selene saw him, something inside forced her to move on her own. Before she could stop herself, she smiled—genuinely smiled, and lifted her hand. She waved.

  He waved back, the gesture awkward but sincere.

  Morgan made a small hum—knowing, satisfied, she gestured for Lyssara to follow her. "Come, child. Let's give them a moment."

  Lyssara bowed quickly to Selene and hurried after the elder witch. Selene pretended not to hear Morgan's soft chuckle as they walked away.

  Darius slowed to a stop in front of her.

  "You're leaving," he said. It wasn't a question.

  "I am." Her voice came out steadier than she felt. "The capital can function on its own. And we need to prepare the Hallows for the royal procession, among other things."

  A beat of silence stretched between them, thick and uncomfortable, full of things neither knew how to say.

  Selene opened her mouth to fill the awkward silence, and Darius rushed to do the same. Silence was replaced with the awkwardness of them stepping over each other's words.

  "Sorry—"

  "You go ahead—"

  They both stopped. Then both grimaced at the absurdity of it.

  Darius gestured slightly. "Please. You first."

  "I was only going to ask what you'll be doing? Whether you'll join the royal procession when they come to the Hallows for the treaty signing." She tried to keep her tone casual, as if the answer didn't matter.

  He shifted his weight. "I don't know yet. The Pontifex assigned me elsewhere—purge work, mostly."

  Selene's brow lifted. "Purging spies from the Church? No doubt Cursed Bounty has eyes in the Sanctum."

  Darius huffed a quiet laugh. "Of course you'd know already."

  She offered a guilty, sheepish, almost-smile—an expression he'd never seen from her before. "If you need help with anything, you may always send word."

  "My company can manage, especially now that Isolde has stopped holding back," he said, then softened slightly. "But I'll keep the offer in mind. "

  "True." Selene turned slightly. The moment stretched thin, reaching its natural end. "Then I suppose this is..."

  "Don't say it like that," Darius cut in, voice sharp enough to halt her mid-turn. "Like we won't see each other again. It's farewell... for now."

  She looked back at him. "For now," she repeated, testing the words. "You sound certain."

  "We still have a Circle of Apostates to kill," he said, conviction strengthening his voice. "You wouldn't dare miss that hunt."

  She huffed, amusement hollowed by hesitation. "By then, I may be Crown Princess. They may not let me leave the palace."

  Darius's smile was small but fierce. "No one has ever made you do anything you did not wish to do. Or have been able to stop you from doing what you want. And they never will. That's who you are, Selene."

  The use of her name, spoken with neither reverence nor contempt but simple familiarity, made something warm unfurl in her chest.

  She turned away to quickly create distance. Something compelled her to turn back. When she did, he was already walking away. He didn't look back, he didn't speak, there was a clear purpose in his steps, and his mind was now fully on his mission.

  Selene watched him go. Never taking her eyes off him.

  Morgan appeared beside her. "Ready now?"

  "Yes." The word came automatically.

  "Liar." Morgan's tone was fond.

  "I'm as ready as I'll ever be," Selene countered.

  "Another lie." Morgan began walking toward the gates. "Ah, well, youth is wasted on the young. Come along, children. The Hallows won't govern themselves."

  Selene followed, staff in hand. Only after Morgan and Lyssara had already taken off into the skies did she turn to look to where Darius had walked off. She whispered, so soft it barely existed, "That may be who I am… but only when I know what I want"

  She turned her face forward to the waiting horizon, where the Hallows beckoned.

  Book 1 End