Page 43 of War Queen
But it had felt so real.
She wiped her face. Mikael’s cloak lay around her. He must have come back to check on her. How long had she been there? It was still night.
“Norah.”
She jumped at the voice behind her and turned. “Adrian,” she said breathlessly.
His face was pale and hollowed from grieving, his eyes without the light they normally held. Her heart broke for him. She rose from the bench beside Alexander, ignoring the stiff ache in her muscles from sitting all night.
His eyes traveled over Alexander’s body, then back to her, and his nostrils flared. The ache in her heart grew to a pain as her pulse quickened. She tried to form some kind of apology—where could she even start? But as her mouth struggled to shape the words that didn’t exist, his face twisted in a silent grief, and he swept forward and pulled her close, embracing her tightly. Her body shook, or maybe it was his. She didn’t know.
They stood, holding each other in their loss. She didn’t know for how long. She didn’t care. That he would embrace her at all brought another wave of emotion—she hadn’t lost him too.
When their tears ran dry, they both sat on the bench by the table, clasping each other’s hands. Silence filled the room. She was glad the keepers had cleaned Alexander—glad that Adrian didn’t have to see him again in that state. But she’d never be able to clean the memory from her mind.
Adrian finally spoke. “You can’t let them take him,” he whispered.
She looked at him, but his eyes were fixed on Alexander. “What?”
“You can’t let them take him to the pyre. You can’t send him to the gods. He needs to stay here—he belongs in Mercia.”
“Adrian,” she said softly. “You would chain his spirit here?”
“He would want to stay, to watch over Mercia. To watch over you.” His lip trembled slightly. “And he wouldn’t leave me.” He clutched her hands. “Don’t send him,” he begged as he turned to her. His eyes welled again. “Don’t send him.”
Norah didn’t want to send Alexander to the gods, but she couldn’t make that decision right now. She only clutched Adrian’s hand tighter, and they both surrendered to the silence.
Adrian left just as the faint light of morning peeked over the horizon. Norah knew she needed to go clean up; she still had Alexander’s blood on her skin.
She could only stare at him lying on the table. What would she do now? She’d never imagined her life without him. A life apart from him, yes, but never a life without him. Adrian’s ask came back to her. Would she send him to the gods? Would Alexander want to go?
“What do you want me to do?” she whispered.
He’d always been a man of faith.
“Surely you want to join the gods. You deserve to join them, to bask in glory.”
But Alexander had never been a man for glory. He was a man of duty, of sacrifice. He wouldn’t want to leave Mercia, but could she really keep him from the gods? And what would she do otherwise? Mercia didn’t bury their dead. She couldn’t put him in the Hall of Souls—the tomb of Mercia’s kings and queens.
How could she decide? That she needed to decide at all made anger flash through her.
“Damn you,” she whispered. “I’ll never forgive you for this.”
Tears threatened again, and she laid her head forward onto his shoulder. This couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be gone. The bewilderment of grief was overwhelming, and exhaustion still pervaded her. All of it was too much, and she couldn’t be there anymore.
Norah walked out of the mortium and into the rising sun, her legs numb. She kept her head down, shielding her eyes from the brightness. Bhastian and Kiran were at her side in a moment, but she waved them back.
“Please,” she said softly. Space. She needed space and quiet and stillness. And darkness. It was too bright outside.
She didn’t remember the walk to her chamber, only that when she reached it, it was empty. No one would have expected her there.
Norah stood. It was the first time she’d been back in her chamber since she’d returned to Mercia. When she’d been there last, it was before she’d fled. When she’d been there last, Alexander had been alive. She pressed her eyes closed—she couldn’t think about that right now. She needed to hold herself together.
Norah glanced around the chamber and the adjoining bathroom. She desperately needed a bath, but the energy escaped her. The bed was too inviting, and she let herself fall back onto it. Just for a moment. She closed her eyes and gave in to her sorrow again.
A whisper stirred in her spirit, and she opened her eyes. She blinked, focusing. She lay in her bed in the middle of a tree-lined path. Slowly, she sat up. It was summer. Norah loved the summer. Was it summer already? She couldn’t remember.
She dropped her legs over the edge of the bed and stood. Her mind was in a haze. Was she dreaming? Where was she? Flowers of all colors surrounded her. She closed her eyes and breathed in, but she couldn’t smell their fragrance. Almost, but not quite. Puzzled, she opened her eyes again, and she saw him.
