Mina’s eyes stung and she turned away. She still wasn’t used to these pangs of the heart that brought tears to her eyes. Once, she’d thought she couldn’t cry at all, and now it seemed she couldn’t stop. She took in the mosaics on the wall, the changing seasons that she had missed so much since coming north. Home. I’m going home.
She turned back to Lynet, who was waiting patiently for Mina to recompose herself. “Do you accept the position, then?” she asked with a growing smile.
We still have so much to do together, Lynet had said to her when she’d been bleeding to death in the snow. And she was right—there was more to be done. Mina could never earn back the devoted worship that Lynet had felt for her as a child, but Lynet wasn’t a child anymore, and for the first time since she’d realized how quickly Lynet was growing, Mina believed that they could build something new, something even stronger than before. It would take time, but she had time now. She had more time than she’d ever had in her life.
Mina nodded, her voice only slightly trembling as she said, “Yes, I gladly accept.”
* * *
Early the next morning, greeted by freshly falling snow, Lynet walked down to the lake where Sybil’s statue had once been. She had to admit that the grounds already seemed cheerier without the weeping statue overlooking them.
She had moved to a new set of rooms now that she was queen. Not Mina’s, of course—those would remain for her whenever she chose to visit Whitespring. But the new rooms were larger than her old ones, and she couldn’t help feeling small when she stood in the middle of them, surrounded by so much space, so many expectations.
But she had become queen without dying, without transforming into her mother, without losing her sense of self. She had felt the crown’s weight on her head without fearing that it would break her neck. There was so much to be done, and she was relieved Mina had accepted the position of governor. Lynet was sure they could work wonders together—they already had.
“It’s strange not to see Sybil there anymore,” Nadia said from behind her.
Lynet had left Nadia a note last night to meet her here in the morning. She had left a note for Mina, too, but she had wanted to talk to Nadia first. Lynet felt the familiar pull as she turned to Nadia, the link between them strong and clear now. But she couldn’t forget the reason she had called Nadia here, or ignore the worry that came with it.
“Come walk with me,” Lynet said.
They walked together along the edge of the lake, their hands finding each other, fingers entangling. These casual touches weren’t heavy with meaning, as they had been before, but Lynet found an entirely different kind of pleasure in the lightness of them, the ease with which she could lean in and brush her lips against Nadia’s cheek.
At the coronation banquet last night, Lynet had placed Mina to her right, Nadia to her left, and no one had said a word to oppose her. Lynet knew the court was still too amazed that she was alive to find fault with her now, but she was sure she would hear the Pigeons cluck in disapproval eventually—because Nadia was a commoner, or because they still didn’t like Mina, or for whatever reason they chose. Lynet didn’t care; she knew now that she was strong enough to fight for the people who were important to her, and so she was ready for that day, should it ever come.
But fighting for the people she cared about didn’t always mean keeping them. Her hand tightened around Nadia’s.
“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?” Nadia said quietly.
Lynet halted, her hand slipping away. “I want to ask you something, and I want you to answer me honestly,” she said. “Do you promise?”
Nadia smiled. “Do you still trust my promises?”
“I’m serious,” Lynet said firmly.
Her smile faded away, and she said, “Yes, I promise,” giving the words a special weight.
“I’ve been thinking of ways to bring more progress to the North, not just short-term relief from the snow, but something lasting,” Lynet said. She had been so scared of being a queen, but right now being a queen was easier than being Lynet. Her voice was firm, her stance solid, and she wondered if she looked like Mina. “One of my plans is to build a school here, something small at first, but that could eventually mirror the university in the South—”
“Lynet, that’s a wonderful idea!” Nadia said, her face blooming with excitement. Snow was falling on her loosely braided hair and on her collarbone, and Lynet’s fingers itched to brush it away, looking for any excuse to touch her. It would be so easy to pretend she didn’t have anything more to say.
“Well, actually,” Lynet continued, tearing her eyes away from Nadia to the small lapping waves of the lake behind her, “I thought maybe you’d like to be a part of that, to use what you’ve learned to help others. But … but I also know how much you wanted to leave the North, and I wouldn’t want you to stay just for my sake. So if you wanted to go south again, instead, if you wanted to stay there … I would understand.” She swallowed, and finally she glanced back at Nadia for some hint of her preference, but her face revealed nothing. “Do you want to go?”
Nadia blinked, and then she looked away, a sad smile on her face. “Lynet…” she said. And then she shook her head and pulled a familiar purse from the pocket of her trousers. “I brought this to give back to you,” she said, holding it up, the coins jangling faintly inside. “I wanted to tell you that I wouldn’t need it, because I don’t intend to go anywhere.”
“But I thought—are you sure?” Lynet said, hardly trusting her own relief.
Nadia laughed, her face open and bright, with no shadow to mar her joy. “I would like to go back south someday to visit. But when I said I wanted to go before … I thought going south would make me feel less alone, but I was still so lonely there. The only time I didn’t feel lonely was … when I was with you.” Her eyes fluttered down, a shy smile on her face. “If I had left Whitespring after you were poisoned, I would have made the same mistake as when I agreed to spy on you. I would have been chasing ghosts and memories instead of fighting for something real.”
She pressed the purse into Lynet’s hands and bent her head to lay a gentle kiss on Lynet’s mouth. “That’s why I still choose you,” she said, her lips brushing against Lynet’s. “I want to stay with you and help you heal the North.”
Lynet leaned in, and for a while, neither of them spoke.
“Keep this,” Lynet said, giving the purse back to Nadia. “In case you ever change your mind. It’s only snow, after all.”
Nadia hesitated, but then she took it. “I’ll save it for the new school,” she said with a grin. “I can’t think of a better way to honor my parents than to teach others what they taught me.”
They walked back toward the garden, discussing plans for their school, Lynet’s step lighter than before.
A few minutes later, Mina came striding across the grounds, still every bit a queen. She offered a civil nod to Nadia and then she turned to Lynet with a smile as warm as summer.
“Now that you’re both here,” Lynet said, “I wanted to show you something.”
Nadia and Mina both spoke at the same time. “What are you—”