Page 59 of Fallen Nocturne

Something warm moves through my chest. Pride rises through the fear lodged inside me. My people are frightened, but they are still standing. They have endured invasion by wyverns and the destruction of their capital, yet their first response is still to find a way to protect one another.

“We can’t return to Völundr tonight,” Rainer says, glancing toward the gaps in the damaged wall.

I follow his gaze. The sun hangs low above the ruined capital, painting the broken stone in shades of orange and gold. Our noctral mounts cannot travel fast after sunset. Darkness will fall before we can prepare for the journey.

“We’ll have to remain in the capital tonight,” I say.

“Shade and I have some business to attend to this evening. We are meeting with the local lords about the rebuilding efforts. Will you be all right on your own?” He looks at me carefully, waiting.

Lady Deirdre hasn’t come. She stayed in Völundr with my handmaidens, Tallulla and Lenna. Blaire is trying to contact her husband, the Orc Prince Vayne, hoping he can convince his brother, King Mavren, not to join the Fae King’s assault. My knights were called back to Völundr by an unexpected security matter shortly before the council began. Only Cedwyn Niemroht accompanied me, but as my scribe, he has spent most of the day carrying messages and recording reports for the regional lords.

I will be alone.

“I’ll be fine,” I say.

Rainer doesn’t look convinced. “Shade will assign two Grimsbane to guard your chambers tonight.”

“Go. Do what you need to do. I only need some rest.” I give him a reassuring smile. “Thank you, Uncle.”

The smile is not entirely false, but I already know that two Grimsbane will not keep me confined to my room. I learned how to slip past far worse things in Astefar.

He nods reluctantly and leaves with Shade, who materializes from wherever he’s been lurking.

I stand alone in the council chamber, staring at the maps and markers from our plans.

Arescaine’s presence behind me feels like a weight. A shadow I can’t shake.

“You can go too,” I say without turning around.

His voice comes from the darkness, low and smooth. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

Footsteps cross the chamber behind me. The door opens and closes with a quiet click.

I am finally, blessedly alone.

I stay there for a long time, studying the map as if it might reveal some answer I’ve missed. But there is nothing. Perhaps a miracle might save us all.

Eventually, I force myself to leave.

I slip out of the palace as evening settles over the ruined capital. As promised, two Grimsbanes wait outside the chambers assigned to me. They are excellent guards, alert and positioned so that no ordinary person could leave without being seen.

But Astefar taught me not to move like an ordinary person.

I wait until a passing servant draws one guard’s attention, then move with the silence Astefar carved into me. My steps make no sound against the stone. I remain close to the walls, passing through the edges of their vision before slipping down a narrow servants’ staircase. Neither Grimsbane turns.

I reach the lower corridor and nearly collide with Cedwyn as he rounds the corner carrying a stack of sealed correspondence.

He stops abruptly. “Your Highness.”

“Cedwyn.” I glance at the letters in his hands. “Were you able to send our appeals to the dwarven lords and King Mavren?”

His expression tightens. “Yes. The replies arrived this afternoon.”

Something in his voice tells me the answer before he speaks it.

“The dwarven lords have all pledged themselves to the Fae King,” he says. “They have not forgotten the centuries of war with Aelfheim, nor the famines that followed when elven rulers cut off supply through the mountain passes. Many still blame our kingdom for the near destruction of their people during the Age of Conquest. King Mavren of Myrkheim has not changed his position either.”

My heart sinks. “And the demon lords?”