“Oh, I see,” she whispered, the weight of sadness descending on her being with that terrible truth.
“I tried to wield the crown, thinking it would help me defeat the Warlock King, but every time I wear it…” Braxton paused, his chest sinking with the burden. “I can hear them scream inside it.”
Asher squeezed Skylar’s shoulders to give her some comfort while she slowly nodded, truly understanding the situation. “That is why you want to block it… What about your magic?” she suddenly asked, hopeful. “Can it block theirs?”
“I couldn’t hold it long enough to attempt it. They are fighting me and it’s excruciating. That is why I need your help.”
“What about removing the crystals from the eyes,” I offered. “Is that something you can help us do? Could we take these off and place a replica in their place?”
“I suppose that in theory we could. The issue is that I’m not sure I could reverse the magic that secured them inside it in the first place.” Her troubled gaze lifted to me. “We create, not undo.”
“I understand, Larie,” I offered. “We would still appreciate you trying.”
“Of course,” our friend assured. “I will give it my all.”
“If that doesn’t work, that would leave us with one other option,” Braxton admitted. “Recreating the Dragon crown so I can wear it when we fight him.”
The light immediately changed in Skylar's eyes, realization spreading through her until we could almost see the gears turning. “It will unnerve the Warlock to see the crown again after so many years. Especially on you, his enemy. You’ll have an instant advantage over him.”
My mate and I grinned; she was indeed Kingston’s daughter.
“That is the plan, but I also need you to help make something else.” Pausing, Braxton took out a drawing from his pocket, handing it to her. “Do you think you could recreate this for our elevated warriors to wear?”
Appalled, her eyes snapped up to us, Imogen, Kingston, and even Asher, our request clearly disturbing her. “Why would you ever want to wear one of these?”
Braxton’s lips slowly stretched into a mischievous smile. “It’s called psychological warfare, and we are going to rage it against his sentries.”
Her expression gradually changed as she looked at her father, who nodded in assurance.
“There are those who worship him, but even they feared Raithian like our people do,” her father confirmed. “This shall give us another advantage during the fight.”
The horror in her eyes transformed to appreciation, and recognition. “Brilliant.” Skylar glanced past us to the two set of guards still talking to Thea outside. “Are they all willing to do this?”
“They are committed,” Harper assured, since we had spoken to her and Asher about it after he returned from helping his mother settle. Thankfully, all the Elevated Warriors were on board with our plan.
“Then you can count on me to make them.” Nodding, she stood. “Thea! We have work to do.” When her attention returned to Braxton and me, she paused. “How many do you need?”
“Seventeen,” Asher was the one to answer, calling her attention to him. “Enough for our two guards, us commanders, the Chief, and Imogen.”
“We are all in,” Imogen vowed.
“Eighteen,” I corrected. “I’m wearing it too.”
Braxton’s lips tilted into a crooked smile, like my resolve was the sexiest thing in the world to him, and he kissed my cheek. “Yep, she is.”
Eyes widening in consideration, Skylar sat back in her chair. “Nineteen,” she concluded. “You didn’t think you were doing this without me, did you?”
She raised a single finger, stopping her father’s protest before it even began.
“And one more thing.” She wiggled her eyebrows at her king, elation coloring her face. “I want a Dragon too.”
The rest of the day vanished while we explored the market for the remaining elements of our plan.
Through it all, our people’s grace and warmth towards Braxton, their new king, truly took me aback. It didn’t much surprise me that they were kind to him after what happened during our unity ceremony, it was their capacity for self-reflection, repentance, and understanding—even in the face of terrifying evil—that truly made me thankful for them.
Our kin had been able to put themselves in our shoes and rise above their fears, choosing to trust the people we showed them to be above anything else. It wasn’t an easy feat, but they did it for us.
Yesterday had been an awakening for me as well as my kingdom. The most powerful lesson gifted to us, not all things are as they seem.
Once everything was found or made to order, we decided to turn in early. Braxton needed to meet Raithian for training first thing the next morning, and I wanted him to have a good night’s rest. We had recently learned that magic was a lot more consuming than we imagined possible.
“Are you okay?”
Braxton’s voice pulled out of my thoughts, and I turned to see him already turning down the bed while I still stood in the middle of the room. Blinking, I nodded, wiping my hands over my skirt. “I’m fine, there is just a lot in my mind.”
“I can imagine—” He paused when he lifted my pillow to fluff it, and my father’s letter fell on the floor.
Sighing, I walked towards him and retrieved it. “I was reading it the other day,” I explained, shaking my head, and placing it on the night table.
“Well?” he asked as though he couldn’t believe I hadn’t told him about it. “What did it say?”
“The expected… That they love me, and they know I can win this war. That I was born to be the queen and fight for my people. That they believe in me.”
A troubled expression captured his features. “Not that it isn’t a beautiful message, but was that all? It kind of seems like adding pressure on your shoulders during an already stressful situation.”
“I didn’t finish it.” I shrugged. “I already know what they expect from me. I’ve known my entire life.”
Becoming pensive, Brax took the envelope from the table and opened it.
“What are you doing?”
“Your parents wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of writing you a secret letter and saving it in the back of their painting, knowing it would only be found after I discovered the accord, just to tell you to ‘fulfill your duty’.”
Sighing, I folded my arms over my chest and watched him read from the start. His eyes seemed confused while he found exactly what I had told him it said, but then suddenly widened. He turned the page, disbelief growing over his features, and making me drop my arms. “What? What is it?”
Emotion gleamed in his eyes when he finally finished, handing me the page. “I think you should read it yourself.”
Reaching for it, I found the place where I had stopped last time.
“Evie, I want you to know that your mother and I are extremely proud of you for carrying our legacy. We love you as our caring daughter, as the strong and selfless woman that we are certain you became, and the benevolent queen we know you will be. The Queen of the People.