“This also means, Lady Rielle,” said King Bastien, “that once you are anointed Sun Queen, you will take on not only the privileges of the position but also the responsibilities. You understand what this means.”
Rielle shook her head. “No. I don’t agree to this.”
“I beg your pardon?” asked the king.
“I’ll accept your generous offer regarding the wind trial, my king,” she said. “I survived my fall; I’ve suffered the wind’s wrath. Fine. But”—she looked to Tal, imploring—“I must complete the fire trial.”
The Archon frowned. “But, Lady Rielle, we have decided that is not necessary.”
“Forgive me, Your Holiness,” interrupted Tal, “but Lady Rielle is right.” He gave her a small smile, then addressed the king. “Some in the world will be satisfied with four trials and a fall off a mountain. But not all. Some will insist Rielle fight the only element she has not yet faced. And that is fire.”
Rielle blinked, startled. Did you tell him what to say?
I nudged him that way, Corien replied. Your teacher has a remarkably open mind, easier to slip into than most.
Please, don’t. Rielle swallowed hard against a sudden tilt of fear. Not him. Not any of them.
Corien fell silent. Then, his voice coy and curling: Shall I tell you what secrets I sensed in that pretty blond head of his?
“Is this what you want, Rielle?”
The entire room was staring at her. It took her a moment to realize that Audric had spoken. She gathered her scattered mind.
“It is,” she replied. “Not only to show the world that I have mastered every element but also because…my mother died in a fire. Of my own creation.”
To her left, her father tensed. She reached for his hand, her heart in her throat.
After a moment, he curled his fingers around her own.
The part of Rielle that had come alive when her father embraced her now grew wings and took to the skies.
“I would like,” she said, “to prove to myself, and to my father, that I am no longer that girl of ashes and ruin. I am stronger than she was. I am stronger than any flame that burns.”
• • •
That evening, Rielle skipped dinner and instead paced through her rooms.
“Are you sure you don’t want something to eat, my lady?” asked Evyline from her post by the door.
“I’m quite sure, Evyline, thank you.”
Evyline glanced out at the terrace. “Do you think your beastly friend will be with us for long, my lady?”
Rielle grinned to see the chavaile there, sleeping curled up on the dusk-lit stone terrace as happily as a cat.
A very large, very horse-like cat.
“I don’t know the ways of godsbeasts,” she told Evyline. “But I certainly hope she stays.”
Evyline tugged at her collar uneasily. “Do you think, if I asked, she would let me pet her?”
“Why, Evyline, I’ve never seen you so bashful.”
A knock on the door interrupted them.
“Lady Ludivine here to see Lady Rielle,” called out Dashiell from the corridor.
All joy vanished from Rielle’s heart. “Please let her in, Evyline.”
Evyline looked dubious but obeyed, her hand on her sword.
Ludivine entered, looking utterly wrung out—her hair a mess, her face red and swollen.
“Hello.” She could not meet Rielle’s eyes. “I wanted to see if you were all right.”
“Well, I’m alive,” Rielle said shortly—then winced. “Sorry. I’m fine. Just resting.”
Ludivine nodded slowly, sitting on one of the hearthside chairs. “I see.”
A terrible silence filled the room.
At last, Rielle blew out a breath and took the seat opposite Ludivine. “Lu, I don’t know what you want me to say or do right now, but I won’t apologize for—”
“I don’t want you to apologize,” Ludivine snapped. Then she scrubbed her hand over her face and sighed. “Do I wish you hadn’t tried to kill my father? Yes. Do I wish he hadn’t been sent home?” She paused. “No. I’m glad of it. I’m so furious with him I can hardly think straight.”
She shook her head, staring into the fire. Then she moved to kneel before Rielle, gathered Rielle’s hands in hers.
“Am I glad you are alive?” Ludivine whispered. “Oh, my darling.” She pulled Rielle down into an awkward hug. “I love you so much I feel I might break from it. I’m so glad you’re all right.”
Rielle helped Ludivine rise and walked her to the bed. She drew back the covers and helped Ludivine lie down, then snuggled close beside her. Resting her cheek against Ludivine’s shoulder, she let Ludivine cry herself out, and when at last Ludivine stopped, Rielle looked up with a smile.
“You’d better not wipe your nose in my hair.”
Ludivine let out a shaky laugh. “Can I stay here tonight?”
“I insist that you do.”
Another knock on the door: “Prince Audric to see Lady Rielle.”
“Let him in,” said Ludivine and Rielle at once.
Audric entered, then hesitated when he saw Rielle and Ludivine in bed. “I can come back later.”
“Don’t you dare.” Ludivine patted the pillows. “Come. We’re having a party.”
Audric approached cautiously. “Are you crying, Lu?”
“Yes, she is,” answered Rielle, “and if you don’t hurry up and get over here, she’ll start all over again, and you’ll feel terrible about it.”
Audric rubbed a hand through his hair. “Is this really the wisest thing to do? I mean, considering…”
“Audric, calm down, there’s not anything wrong in it. I almost died today. I thought I’d never see either of you again, and I’d like my friends near tonight. Come lie down with us.” She sat up, extended a hand to him. “Like when we were little?”
His expression as he took her hand was unbearably fond. “We’re not little anymore.”
“Pretend it for me. We used to play pretend all the time. Remember?”
Ludivine laughed. “I recall a certain prince obsessed with pretending he was a horse day and night, running down the halls on all fours and banging up his knees.”
Audric settled in the bed beside Rielle, above the blankets. Disappointment nettled her, but she bit her tongue to keep from teasing him. She would be satisfied with his nearness and the solid heat of his body.