Chapter 16 The Shadows Return
Two days before the wedding, I saw them.
I had been walking through the eastern corridor, the one that led to the conservatory. I had taken to visiting the plants there, they were the only living things in this palace that didn't look at me with fear or contempt. The gilded ones still drooped miserably, but there was a corner of the conservatory filled with night-blooming flowers that reminded me of home.
I was almost there when I heard voices.
"—shouldn't be here."
"I know."
"You said you would stay away."
"I tried."
Cardan.
I stopped. Pressed myself against the wall. The shadows around me instinctively deepened, hiding me from view.
They were in a small alcove off the main corridor, partially hidden by a tapestry depicting some ancient Aurelian victory. I could see them through a gap in the fabric. Cardan, his back against the wall. And Freya, her crimson gown replaced by traveling clothes, her dark hair pulled back from her face.
"I leave tomorrow," she said. "The northern territories. It's practically exile."
"It's not exile. It's a prestigious position."
"It's a punishment. And we both know it."
Cardan's jaw tightened. "Freya..."
"I'm not angry." She stepped closer to him, her hand rising to rest against his chest. "I always knew this would end. You're a king. You have duties. I was never going to be your queen."
"Freya."
"I just wanted to say goodbye. Properly."
She rose on her toes and kissed him.
It was not a chaste kiss. It was not the kiss of a woman saying farewell to a friend. It was deep and desperate and full of six years of history I would never be part of.
Cardan didn't pull away. Not immediately. For one heartbeat, two, his hands rose to her waist and held her there, and something inside my chest cracked clean in half.
Then he stepped back.
"Goodbye, Freya."
She smiled. It was a sad smile, a knowing smile. "Goodbye, Cardan. Try to be happy."
She walked away, her boots clicking against the marble floor. Cardan stood alone in the alcove, his head bowed, his hands clenched at his sides.
I waited until he left too. Then I turned and walked back to my quarters.
I did not go to the conservatory. I did not want to see the night-blooming flowers anymore.
\-—————————————-
The night before my wedding, I sat alone in my chambers and held the obsidian pendant in my palm.
It pulsed faintly, warm against my skin. A heartbeat of home.
Three uses, Eris had said. Use them wisely.
One use, and I could be back in Hel. One use, and I could see my brothers, my city, my people. One use, and I could escape this golden prison and the cold-eyed king who would never be mine in anything but name.
I could leave tonight. Slip away while the palace slept. Return in time for the ceremony, or not. Let them wonder where I had gone. Let them panic. Let Elowyn explain to the court why the bride had fled.
The thought was viciously satisfying.
But it was also cowardly.
I am the Princess of Hel, I reminded myself. I do not run.
I didn't run. But I also didn't stay.
I stood, the pendant still clutched in my hand, and walked to the window. Through the glass, I could see the moon hanging low over the city, fat and silver and indifferent to my misery.
Somewhere out there, Ash was flying free. Somewhere out there, my brothers were ruling Hel without me. Somewhere out there, Lady Freya was riding north, away from the king she had kissed goodbye.
And I was here. Trapped. Alone.
"I could come home," I whispered to the pendant. "Just for tonight. Just to remember what it feels like to be wanted."
The pendant pulsed in response.
But I didn't use it. Not yet.
Instead, I tucked it back under my gown and went to bed.
Tomorrow, I would marry a king who didn't love me.
Tomorrow, I would become a queen of a realm that hated me.
Tomorrow, everything would change.
But tonight, tonight I was still Nyx Andromeda Viveca Morrigan. Princess of Hel. Daughter of shadows. Heir to a throne of bone and obsidian.
And I would not break.
Not yet.
Not ever.
\-------------------------------
I woke on my wedding day to darkness.
Not the darkness of drawn curtains or enchanted spells, but the familiar, comforting darkness of home. The air in my chambers smelled of obsidian dust and night-blooming jasmine. The shadows on the walls moved in patterns I recognized, the lazy, affectionate curl of creatures who knew me and loved me.
For a moment, I thought I was still dreaming.
Then someone sat on my bed.
"Good eternal-darkness, little sister. You look terrible."
My eyes flew open.
Mazander Hollin Morrigan, professional nuisance, silver-haired disaster, and the most beautiful sight I had ever seen, was perched on the edge of my mattress, grinning at me like he'd just pulled off the century's greatest prank.
"Maz?"
"The one and only."
I launched myself at him.
My brother caught me with a startled oof, nearly toppling off the bed. His arms came around me, familiar and solid and real, and I buried my face in his shoulder and breathed in the scent of home, smoke and shadow and the particular sweetness of the honey-cakes he always stole from the palace kitchens.
"You're here," I managed, my voice muffled against his tunic. "You're actually here."
"I'm here. And you're crushing my ribs. Some things never change."
I pulled back just enough to look at him. He was dressed in formal Hel attire, a long coat of shadow-silk, deep violet trimmed in silver, his white hair braided back from his face. His violet eyes, the mirror of my own, were bright with mischief and something softer underneath.
"How, when, how?"
"That's a lot of questions before breakfast." He tapped my nose. "Eris and your handmaidens arranged it. Sent word through the shadow-network. Something about you being miserable and alone and in desperate need of your favorite brother."
"You're my only brother who's here."
"Which makes me your favorite by default. Eris sends his love, by the way. And his regrets, he really wished could be here. And approximately seventeen crates of gifts, which I'm told are being unloaded as we speak."
"Eris isn't coming?"
Maz's expression gentled. "Someone had to stay in Hel. The Crown Prince can't leave the throne unattended, not with the border tensions what they are. But he wanted to, Nyx. He nearly came anyway. I had to physically wrestle him away from the portal."
I could picture it, Eris, stoic and exhausted, trying to argue that his duty was to his sister, not his crown. Maz, for once serious, reminding him that Hel needed stability more than I needed a second brother at my wedding.
"He sent a letter," Maz added, pressing a folded piece of parchment into my hand. "I'm supposed to tell you it's very emotional and heartfelt and he definitely didn't cry while writing it."
"Did he cry?"
"Absolutely. It was embarrassing. I'm going to mock him for centuries."
I clutched the letter to my chest. "I'm so glad you're here."
"I know. I'm delightful."
"You're insufferable."
"Also true." He stood, offering me his hand. "Now. Are you going to stay in bed all day, or are you going to come see the rest of your surprise?"
"There's more?"
Maz's grin widened. "Little sister. We didn't come alone."