Page 143 of Crowned By Roses

Did my mother ever hold me like this, tight against her chest, warm in her arms? Was it ever love, or was it only that twisted version she presented as love when I was older?

I don’t know. I’ll never know. But I hold her, tight against my chest, warm in my arms, anyway.

There’s a familiar hitched breath, and I look up to see Wrenley staring at us, eyes rabbit-wide. I gesture for her to come and sit beside me. She shakes her head, then backs up, legs trembling, before disappearing behind the breadth of the princes in their armor.

My throat tightens, but I don’t call after her. Instead, I gaze down at my mother’s face.

Her eyes are glassy but still focused on me. A small smile creeps over her lips, and her hand strokes my face, fingertips soft. “At least,” she breathes, “I got to make…one beautiful thing.”

Each heartbeat seems to echo in an empty cavity within my chest. I could tell her that if I’m beautiful, it is because a man and a woman in the desert taught me about family and a smart-mouthed half-fae child made me a brother. And if I’m beautiful, it’s because of Kel’s strength and Farron’s generosity and Dayton’s friendship and Ezryn’s forgiveness.

Or if I am beautiful, it is simply because I am loved by Rosalina and her beautiful heart.

But I don’t say any of that. I lower down to kiss her forehead, letting my tears wash over her face, and I cradle her in my arms until her heart stops. Even her blood and bones are too weak to remain in the Vale, because the fragments of her whisk away into ash until there is nothing but air in my arms.

I sit there, hands out as if still holding her, eyes wide and unblinking. Rivers of tears stream down my face. I can’t move.

“Caspian.” Keldarion’s voice washes over me, and then I’m being pulled to my feet and clutched tight in his embrace. “She’s gone, Cas,” he murmurs. “She’s gone.”

“I did it,” I whisper. “I survived her. I survived her as me.” I just never expected freedom to feel like grief.

Keldarion clutches me tighter, and I realize I’m shaking. I grasp him back and let him keep me together in his arms.

“What’s wrong, Rosalina?” Farron’s voice shakes me from my numbness, and I look over Kel’s shoulder.

Rosalina’s standing a few steps away, facing the battlefield. Farron, Dayton, and Ezryn stand beside her. To the side, Wrenley chews on a fingernail and paces like one of the animals trapped behind bars in the menagerie.

“Look. Do you see it?” Rosalina’s voice is strained. “They’re…dying.”

I pull away from Kel and follow her gaze. She’s staring at my mother’s creations. The various creatures stumble around the battlegrounds, their faces filled with confusion. A goblin cries out, then falls to his knees, finger stretching at the dawn. His body withers, like a plant left without water, before crumbling to ash. A troll makes a heartbreaking moan, wobbling on his huge legs, before the wind takes him too.

I make eye contact with a nearby underfae. Her horns are the color of a blushing sunrise, her eyes like golden coins. “Help me,” she whispers before her body trembles into ash.

Rosalina’s throat bobs, and tears streak down her face. “What’s happening?”

“They’re not connected to the Vale. They were only tethered to Sira,” Anya says.

“That means the underfae…” Farron begins.

Wrenley storms over to us. “The underfae?” She grabs Ezryn by the shoulders and shakes him hard. “Where was Kairyn? Where was he?!” She turns in a frantic circle before sprinting to the edge of the moat. “Kairyn!”

“Wren—” a weak voice calls, and a hulking figure staggers out of the fog.

Wrenley rushes forward and grabs Kairyn’s shoulders before he sinks to the ground. His skin is ashen, the tips of his horns breaking apart.

“I wanted to see you,” he rasps, “one last time.”

“Don’t say that,” Wrenley hisses, shaking him, but it only causes more pieces of him to crumble away to dust.

“Kai.” Ezryn’s voice is hollow as he stumbles over to his brother.

Rosalina kneels beside Wrenley. Her gaze drops to the ground, then to each of us, a fire burning behind her eyes. I know that look. “I have an idea.”

Tears streak down Wrenley’s face, and she shakes them away. “What sort of idea?”

Rosalina pulls something out of her pocket, clutches it tight in her palm. “One that could save everyone.”

Of course Rosalina has a plan. She is my mate, after all.