I paced the halls of the castle, my footsteps echoing through the stone corridor. My heart was heavier than the crown upon my head; a weight we had been meant to carry together. I chewed my lip, wishing for Kathera’s arms around me, her voice telling me everything would be all right. Instead, I walked alone, trying to understand why our kingdom stood still.
“Lyrian, the council is waiting for you,” Briar said softly.
Kathera’s mother stood at the far end of the hall, her eyes heavy with the same sorrow that lived in mine. The oak doors behind her loomed like a final trial.
For a moment, the hall felt endless, a cruel reminder of the weight I bore. I finally approached the door. The guards pulled it open, and stale air greeted me.
The council chamber smelled of dust and old grief. I paused at the threshold, the crown pressing into my brow. For a fleeting heartbeat, I imagined Kathera walking beside me, our hands brushing as we entered together.
The doors closed behind me with a heavy thud that echoed like thunder. Inside, impatience hung in the air like smoke. The high ceilings felt suffocating. I glanced at the golden pillars circling the room. How was I supposed to rule this world alone? It was almost too much.
“Solve this!” Sil bellowed, his jowls shaking with rage. He slammed a fish down on the table, the whole room stinking of rot. “The rivers haven’t moved in years.” His voice hovered on the edge of panic.
“I feel like I’m going mad. I plant the seeds, and nothing grows,” Rwin mumbled, his voice trembling slightly.
“Finding meat is becoming increasingly difficult!” Glyrin yelled, more worried than angry.
Their words crashed together, echoing like waves in a tomb. I could hardly hear them over the roaring in my ears, the memory of Kathera’s laughter, her promise: We’ll fix this together.
“What will you do, my Emperor?” Gergi, the oldest councilman, said, his long gray beard quivering as he stood. “We need a solution now!”
The chamber tilted slightly. I steadied myself against the table and forced the words out. “How long will our stores last?”
“Two moons,” Castor, Kathera’s father, replied, his voice roughened by grief.
His dark hands hovered near his sword, as if he could fight this stillness with steel. His face was carved with the kind of pain only a father understood. “Soon we will all be asking where to find bread; anything to fill our bellies.”
“Then we ration by family size,” I said. “Send search parties into the wilds. Something must grow out there. As for our Empress…” My voice faltered. “We continue the work to bring her back. She is the key to unfreezing Celentra.”
“You’ve said that before!” Gergi yelled, “And yet nothing changes!”
Before I could answer, a sudden gust snuffed out half the candles. Shadows leapt across the walls. The doors groaned, then swung wide with a shudder.
Ami strode through the flickering light, her cloak sweeping across the floor like a storm front. Behind her walked a short woman with dirt-streaked feet and blood drying at the corner of her mouth, her eyes wary, as if she had stepped into a dream she did not trust.
“We have found the Soulbearer of Kathera,” Ami declared, her voice ringing like struck metal. “We can bring her back.”
The room erupted: shouts of disbelief, gasps, the scrape of chairs. I could barely breathe.
Who was this woman to carry Kathera’s soul? The soul of my fierce and fearless Soulfated?
Could she truly hold something so vast inside one body?
Would she be strong enough?
Fearless enough?
I faced Ami and the stranger. “How do we bring her back?”
But the question wasn’t for the council, or even for Ami.
It was for the space beside me, for the woman I loved.
And for the first time in years, the air tasted like hope.