“Then you will be the first to commit treason against me. Would you betray me, Father?”
“Would you punish me, Daughter?”
Heat rushed through my heart, hardening it. “Believe that I can, and I will. You will be an example to the people, either showing them how to kneel to me, or the consequences of failing to do so.”
His shoulders slumped further. “Then I was right all along. Lord Endrick is not dead after all. He lives and now goes by the name of Kestra Dallisor.”
I raised my hand, furious and fully aware that with the powers that I had absorbed from Endrick, I could kill Darrow where he now stood, or do anything else short of that.
Yet wasn’t that his point, that I could now do everything that Endrick could have done?
And that with these powers, I would do everything that Endrick had done.
I was still myself, but I suspected if I looked in a mirror, the eyes that stared back at me would have a reflection of Endrick in them. Would that be so wrong?
Endrick’s rule had been fierce, but except for the Coracks, Antora had been at peace for a generation. There would be peace under my rule as well, after I crushed the rebellion.
“Leave me alone,” I whispered. “Never return. Your daughter as you once knew her is dead to you. And the Kestra Dallisor that she has become will not forgive you twice.”
Harlyn stepped forward, raising her sword. “Then the Kestra Dallisor that you have become will have to fight me.”
I smiled. “Fighting you is no more effort than crushing a mosquito.” As Endrick had once done to me, I waved my hand through the air, and Harlyn was pushed along with it, swept out the back exit of the throne room and out of my sight. I didn’t care what happened to her after that. The air already smelled better without her sharing in it.
“What have you done?” Darrow asked, shaking his head. “Forgive me, Queen, but I will go and attend to that girl you just … whatever you did to her. I must see if she is all right.”
Maybe she was and maybe she was not; I hardly cared. Instead, I cared that Darrow didn’t even look back as he left my throne room. Did he know how that broke my heart?
I took a deep breath and shook it off. No, Darrow could not be allowed to crush my heart any more than I would have allowed Endrick to do, or as Simon had done. I would have a heart that could not be crushed.
Which meant I must have a heart that could not be touched.
Which meant I would have to cease to feel anything for anyone.
It was the only way I could ever survive.
Darrow left the room, and in his place, Joth entered. He walked up behind me, placed his arms around my waist, and kissed my cheek. “We did it,” he said. “We won.”
“I won,” I told him. Though if this was winning, I found no joy in it. Not even the Scarlet Throne of Antora was grand enough to heal the despair within me.
Joth had described the scene outside the palace walls as one of chaos, but until leaving the courtyard, I had failed to appreciate the exact meaning of the word. Thankfully, the snow had stopped falling, but that was the only good news. It might’ve been a dark night but for the many fires set both within and without the walls. I didn’t know whether our soldiers had set them, or the Dominion Loyalists who had come to defend their ash and smoke. Ironhearts were tripping over each other in their bid for freedom, and citizens of Highwyn were attempting to protect what little they had with weapons that were hardly more threat than sticks and feathers.
The Brill appeared to be the only group to have retained their lines, but for the worst possible reasons. A thick row of bodies went straight through the center of their numbers, and most of the survivors seemed afraid to move.
“Is that because of Joth?” Trina asked. “Are they—”
“Dead,” Gabe said under his breath. “Joth and his half-lives tore through them within seconds. He could do the same to any of us, without warning, and we’d have no defense.”
Both looked to me, and I wished I had any answers to offer them. But before I could speak, Basil rode toward me with his halberd in hand. He was still too thin and weak for battle, but I respected his choice to be here. “Is it true?” he asked. “Is Endrick gone?”
“He’s gone.” Though if battling Endrick had been a windstorm, now a season of tornados had begun. “Where is Captain Tenger?”
Basil grimaced, then cocked his head to the left. “Come with me.”
I followed him outside the palace walls to a field of trampled snow. In the center, Imri Stout was standing over two other Brillian soldiers. One of them, a woman with long eyelashes so translucent white they almost glowed in the darkness, looked up and shook her head.
Imri turned to me with a vacant expression. “Even our technologies cannot heal him.”
I pushed through the group to find Tenger on the ground. There were no visible wounds, but his eyes were rolled back in his head and he was mumbling incoherently.