The end of summer eventually came and I walked the halls of the palace, watching as all the servants ran around. Since it was the end of summer, Tritetia was returning to Aehorus and that meant her mother was coming to retrieve her. It had everyone running around like ants, but for me, it simply meant a day with no lessons. My mother had been fussing over me all morning, adjusting my collar, smoothing down my hair, and reminding me to be on my best behavior. I knew she was just worried; Tritetia’s mother was the ruler of Aehorus, the Sovereign of the Tides and she simply wanted me not to embarrass Caspian and Isadora.

  I didn’t mind the preparations, though. It meant no lessons, no sitting still while my tutor droned on about things I already knew. But even with the free time, my mind wasn’t entirely at ease. I couldn’t stop wondering about Yssac and what Caspian had done to keep him in the capital. As far as I could tell from the rumors, there was no indication of what happened and I shook my head, pushing the thought aside. Caspian has said he would take care of it, and I had no reason to doubt him.

  I wandered through the palace, my fingers absently brushing against the hem of my shirt as I weaved through the bustling halls. Everyone was too busy to notice me, their focus entirely on preparing for the arrival of the Sovereign of the Tides. It was strange to think that in just a few hours, Tritetia would be gone. I had spent so much time worrying about my mother and about Yssac that I hadn’t really thought about what it would mean to not have her around anymore.

  “I suppose we could write letters,” I mumbled, although I wasn’t sure I wanted anyone to know we were keeping contact with one another. My mother might keep my letters to her a secret if I made her think it was some sort of childish fancy, but I didn’t know if Tritetia would be able to do the same. Her mother was the ruler of Aehorus, and I had no doubt she would be closely monitored.

  I sighed, turning a corner as I stepped out into the garden. I could already see where attendants were gathering at the main palace for the Sovereign's arrival and where banners bearing Aehorus’s crest had been strung along the pillars, their oceanic blues and silvers stark against the warm tones of the palace stone. The palace guards had repositioned themselves, standing at attention near the entrance where the envoy would arrive. Since I wasn’t wearing the earmuffs yet, I could hear the faint sounds of the final preparations—the clatter of dishes being set in place for the reception, the rustling of fabric as courtiers adjusted their attire, the sharp instructions of stewards ensuring everything was in order.

  As soon as I reached the end of the garden, I realized that the Sovereign must have arrived, as horns started blaring and I quickly slipped the earmuffs over my sensitive ears. Curiosity got the better of me and I hid behind one of the trees at the edge of the garden, peeking out as the grand procession moved through the palace gates. The Sovereign’s entourage was nothing short of impressive; sleek carriages inlaid with silver filigree, their polished surfaces gleaming under the midday sun. Aehorus’s banners fluttered in the breeze, dancing gently as the carriages rolled to a stop.

  Then, she stepped out.

  Tritetia’s mother was striking in a way that felt almost unnatural, like something sculpted from an artist’s dreams. Red hair, short and tightly bound in a ponytail, framed a face both furrowed and joyful, as if laughter and hardship had woven themselves into every line. Her narrow gray eyes, deep-set and watchful, held a quiet devotion—the gaze of someone who had spent a lifetime protecting what she loved. My eyes widen as I realized I had seen an image of her before and it was as if a forgotten memory resurfaced.

  In four years, Pyraxia would develop a way to create images on paper and it wouldn’t take long for all the nations to start using it to document important figures, victories, and tragedies alike. In my first life, the first time I ever saw a Pyraxian photograph had been in passing—a faded image, tucked within the folds of the Marquess’s ledger. A photo of the woman now walking in front of me, captured in a grainy recreation and beneath the portrait, a date: the day she died.

  Even now, I could hear the hushed conversations from my past life. The Marquess, speaking in low tones with his allies, discussing how the timing of her assassination had been both a tragedy and an inconvenience. A foreign ruler’s death meant uncertainty, and uncertainty meant it wasn’t the time to try to overthrow Caspian. I had barely cared back then, as it had barely been a few months since my own mother’s death, but hiding behind the tree, watching the same woman stride past me, a new idea wormed its way into my mind.

  Were our mothers’ deaths connected?

  I clenched my fists, forcing my breathing to stay steady as I continued watching the procession. It wasn’t impossible; after all, Tritetia and I were both half beast, even if I was a dragon and she was part sea beast. I didn’t doubt that in her transformed state, she was more than capable of destroying the Isles the way I had tried to destroy Naera. But if that was the case, it meant the the Marquess and Yssac weren’t the only enemies I had to worry about.

  I pushed the thought aside for now, doing my best to calm down. Spiralling would get me nowhere and for now, Tritetia was my main concern. I had to talk to her, to see if she knew anything—if her visions told her more than she had let on and make sure we could keep in contact. As soon as the procession passed, I stepped out from behind the tree, making my way back to Isadora’s palace. The Sovereign would first be greeted by the Emperor and Empress, and while I knew we were all going to have dinner in the main palace, Tritetia was likely still at Isadora’s palace since that’s where Valaine and I stayed.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  I barely got halfway through the garden before I noticed Tritetia’s green hair, her skin shimmering in the bright sun. She was staring quietly at the lavender, as if deep in thought, her fingers barely grazing the delicate petals. She hadn’t noticed me yet, and for a moment, I hesitated to bother her. It felt unnatural, like stepping onto uncertain ground but I didn’t have time to waste. Once her mother was done with the Emperor and Empress, I wouldn’t be able to get Tritetia alone.

  I strode forward, my steps deliberate, and cleared my throat. Tritetia flinched, her eyes snapping to mine before softening in recognition.

  “Cyran,” she said, a small, relieved smile pulling at her lips. “I was wondering if I’d see you before I left.”

  I nodded, studying her carefully. She looked the same as always—soft-spoken and gentle, but there was something beneath the surface, a quiet weight in her expression that hadn’t been there before. Maybe she had seen something in her visions, or maybe she simply didn’t want to leave. Either way, I didn’t have the time to ease into the conversation.

  “I saw your ma.”

  “She’s pretty. I wish I had her red hair,” Tritetia looked away, pulling on a strand of her hair as she continued. “Mom says I get my hair and eyes from my dad, but I don’t remember him well. He died when I was little.”

  “You said you think someone is trying to force me to transform,” I spoke slowly, weighing how to voice my suspicions. I still didn’t know if I could trust Tritetia enough to tell her this was my second life, but I needed to know if there was another player that I didn’t know about. “Could… someone be trying to do the same to you?”

  Tritetia’s hand stilled before she shook her head, still refusing to look at me as she dropped her hand back to her side. “No. Mom dies because she can’t stop being the Sovereign. New Sovereigns are only chosen when the current one dies.”

  The soft, matter-of-fact way she said it made my stomach flip uncomfortably. We were both kids who knew our mothers were going to die, but Tritetia’s experience was very different from mine. I had the memories of my previous life that warned me about what was coming, but Tritetia was forced to see her mother’s death every time she looked at the woman she admired and loved. It was no wonder she was so desperate, why she was willing to ask for my help despite being afraid of what I could become.

  I frowned, unable to look up at her as I considered my suspicions of her. Of everyone around me, Tritetia was the least likely to try and control me; she was placing her hope that the same power that terrified her would be enough to stop her mother’s death from happening. From the way she framed it, the death was political, but since Tritetia wasn’t saying who killed her mother, there was a chance the vision didn’t show her who.

  “Here,” my thoughts were interrupted as Tritetia spoke, and I glanced up to see her holding out a bright blue crystal, the diamond shape catching the light. It filled the palm of her hand, but something about it felt… significant. I glanced between the crystal and Tritetia, narrowing my eyes slightly in confusion.

  “What is it?”

  “A way to keep in touch,” I watched as Tritetia reached into her dress, pulling out a similar crystal from a hidden pocket. “They’re linked. If you hold yours, mine will glow, and if I hold mine, yours will glow. We can talk through them, as long as we’re both holding them.”

  I took the crystal carefully, turning it over in my palm. The surface was smooth and cool, but the moment it settled against my skin, a faint warmth pulsed from within. Magic hummed inside it, subtle yet present.

  “I originally had them made because Valaine complains about me leaving at the end of every summer,” Tritetia let out a small, nervous laugh, shifting her weight as she continued. “But… we can keep just exchanging letters. Mom says my ability to see the future should be less fragmented as I get older so… in case I see something that might… help, I…”

  Her voice faded off, and I noticed the nervous way she clutched the crystal in her hand. We both knew the chance of her seeing something useful to me while she wasn’t in Naera was unlikely, but she could only potentially see more about her own mother’s death while she was home in Aehorus. I studied her for a moment, noting the way she fidgeted, her fingers lightly tapping against the remaining crystal in her palm.

  “Thank you,” I finally whispered, unsure what else to say. I understood that it wasn’t a gift, and yet it felt like something more than just a simple tool for communication. It was an acknowledgment—a quiet, unspoken understanding that we were both fighting against something larger than ourselves, that we both carried burdens neither of us could fully share.

  Tritetia shook her head quickly, a faint flush coloring her cheeks as she tucked her own crystal back into her pocket. “You’re the one doing me the favor. I… need your help more than you need mine.”

  “No, I–” I started to argue with her, but another voice interrupted both of us.

  “Prince Cyran? Princess Tritetia?”

  My blood froze as I recognized the voice. I clenched the crystal in my palm, schooling my expression before I turned. He stood at the edge of the garden, the sunlight catching in his dark blond hair and his ice blue eyes were schooled into a respectful expression. He stepped a bit closer, and I quickly realized he was dressed like a servant.

  “Princess Isadora is looking for both of you,” he continued, his expression showing no hint of malice as he bowed his head slightly. “The Sovereign will be here soon.”

  I didn’t react at first, forcing my body to remain still even as my mind reeled. The crystal felt heavier in my palm, a sharp contrast to the light, careful way Tritetia had handed it to me just moments ago. Yssac was standing there as if nothing had changed, as if I hadn’t spent days wondering how Caspian had ensured he stayed in Naera. But this… was far beyond anything I could have expected.

  He made Yssac his aide.