Page 87 of Wings of Starlight

“Will I see you again?” he asked, so softly she almost did not hear him.

“I’ve decided I want my coronation to take place whereallmy subjects can be in attendance, on the border. So if you’ll come…”

“Of course,” he replied. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

For a moment, they held each other’s gaze. Clarion tore hers away first, if only to keep herself from weeping anew.

When they arrived on the border, a group of fairies was waiting for her on the Spring side. Scouts flitted up and down the riverbank, and there, a bright beacon of gold in the darkness, was Elvina. Even from this height, Clarion could make out shouts of surprise and alarm. It almost made her smile. How sad that none of them would ever know the friendship of an owl.

Noctua landed silently. When Clarion slid off her back, a quiet awe fell over the warm fairies. Clarion wanted to sink to her knees in the snow. She wanted to be alone, if only to allow herself to feel the full weight of what she had done.

But her subjects needed her.

With her shoulders drawn back, she stepped onto the bridge. And when she crossed into Spring, she did not turn around. If she did—if she felt that invisible tether between them snap taut, calling her back to his side—she might just change her mind. But this, she knew, was for the best.

One day, she hoped she truly believed that.

All the way back to the palace, fairies fixed her with curious looks—and, perhaps for the first time in her life, spoke to her unprompted. The scouts escorting her and Elvina back to the Pixie Dust Tree began peppering her with questions she did not—or could not—answer.

“What is the Warden of the Winter Woods like?”

“How did you manage to defeat them?”

“Will the spell be broken?”

The barrage lasted until they arrived at the palace—until they crowded around the door to Clarion’s quarters with their bright, eager eyes.

“Let your queen rest,” Elvina said, with a glower that could curdle cream. “You will have quite enough time to interview her later.”

With a hurried chorus of “Yes, Your Majesty,” they scattered.

Clarion shot her a look of gratitude. With a knowing smile, Elvina ushered her inside. The door fell shut, and Clarion wasted no time in dragging herself to bed. She shucked off her winter coat, letting it pool on the floor at her feet, then flopped face down onto the mattress. It dipped beneath Elvina’s weight as she sat beside her.

Even without looking at her, Clarion knew she was waiting…for whatever would come out, she supposed. In truth, she herself did not know what she would say until she spoke: “It’s finished.”

And it was: both the Nightmares and whatever she’d had with Milori. Right now, she felt mercifully numb.

When Elvina did not reply, Clarion turned her head enough to look up at her. It was not pity in Elvina’s eyes but an ancient, terrible understanding. It was strangely comforting—and strangely beautiful, to be known without having to speak a word.

There was so much Elvina had not told Clarion about the workings of their world. There was so much more she had not told Clarion aboutherself. Had she been hurt like this, too? It seemed impossible to imagine that Elvina had fallen in love—even more so that she had ever made any sort of fatal mistake or miscalculation. But she’d admitted her wisdom had not come easily.

The gulf between them had felt nigh impossible to bridge for weeks, but now, this shared pain bound them together. Perhaps, with whatever life Elvina had left, she would guide her forward.

Of all things, that was what finally broke the floodgates.

Her tears flowed down her face, hot and relentless. Her sobs racked her body. To her utter shock, Elvina enfolded Clarion in her arms and let her weep in her lap like a child.

“I made many mistakes with you,” Elvina said quietly. “Perhaps even with myself. How terribly sad that I can see it only at the end of my life. You were here for only a blink, and yet, you have taught me so much.”

“Don’t go,” Clarion whispered. “Please, please, don’t go.”

She heard Elvina’s soft intake of breath. “Even I cannot defy the stars. But you will be fine without me, Clarion. I feel very confident leaving Pixie Hollow in your capable hands.”

Clarion’s chest constricted painfully. All her life, she had longed to hear those words. How sweet, to finally have the assurance she’d craved. Only, she was not so certain she deserved it. She had saved Pixie Hollow. She’d mastered her own magic. But she would live the rest of her life with the stain of her mistakes. How could she ever teach new arrivals to fly? How could she dare to unfurl their wings with the tenderness they deserved when she would always remember the ones she had broken?

Elvina’s voice cut through the fog of her despair. “It’s good to have a connection with Winter. Unifying the seasons is a very strong way to begin your reign. You will have to apologize to your Warden of the Winter Woods on my behalf.”

Hers.No, she did not have the right to claim him any longer. “I don’t know if I can see him again.”