Page 94 of Wings of Starlight

“What point is there in pretending?” He sounded absolutely wretched. “I have thought of little else but you since we parted.”

This time, she did not bother to deny her worst impulses. She embraced him, and the cold of winter sighed against her bare arms. His heart beat fiercely against her cheek. Her fingers dug into the tops of his shoulders, probably harder than they ought, but she needed something to ground her.

“Me neither,” she said. “You made me believe I deserved this, and yet, you have made me feel like I would give anything to be someone, anyone, else. I would give it all back if I could.”

“Please don’t say that,” Milori murmured. “Youdodeserve it. You are going to do incredible things, Clarion. You already have.”

“And yet, I will be alone.” It slipped out, too quickly for her to stop herself.

Milori tipped her chin up so that he could meet her gaze. “You will have all your subjects to love you. And even if I am not beside you, you will still have me. There will never be a star brighter. I will always love you.”

Clarion choked on a sob. It was unbecoming of a queen, she thought distantly, but she could not bring herself to care. “As will I.”

She took his face in her hands and kissed him—briefly, selfishly, if only to commit him entirely to memory. The feeling of his lips, soft against her own. The way his breath hitched, no matter how many times they had done this. The pleasant chill of his skin beneath her touch. The scent of evergreen and crisp air. It brought her no relief when it felt so final—and so insufficient.

This was goodbye.

Reluctantly, she drew back just enough to whisper, “Remember to be free, Milori. No more haunting this border like a ghost.”

He gave her the most heartbreaking smile she had ever seen. “You, too.”

Impossible,she thought. As long as she lived, she would never be free of him. There would never be another. No matter. As the Queen of Pixie Hollow, she could shoulder this pain alone. That much was her duty. Slowly, she stepped back from him. She let her hands slide down his arms, then his wrists, until at last her fingers slipped away.

“Take care, Your Majesty,” he said.

She did not trust herself to speak.

When he turned away from her, a soft wind picked up. It danced through his hair and sent his new cloak billowing out behind him. She caught a bare glimpse of his wing. In the moonlight, it shone as bright and clear as a pane of shattered glass.

Clarion stayed on the bridge until he vanished into the tree cover, until the clouds overhead gave way and gentle rain began to fall. She stood alone in Spring as the scent of petrichor rose around her, staring out at the cold emptiness of Winter.

It would call her home for the rest of her long life.