The High Mountain Court by A.K. Mulford

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Beams of sunlight warmed Remy’s skin as she opened her eyes. She lay in an enormous bed, a thick azure duvet pulled up to her chest. She must have kicked off another fur blanket in her sleep.

A book thudded shut. Hale sat next to her, leaning against the upholstered velvet headboard.

He beamed at her, relief washing across his face. Remy snuggled further into her soft pillow. Her rumpled white nightdress had slipped off her shoulder in her sleep. Hale traced a finger over her bare shoulder and pulled the strap up.

“This must be the afterlife.” She smiled.

“Why, because the bed is too comfortable or because your Fated is too good looking?” Hale grinned.

Remy placed a sleepy hand on his knee.

“My Fated,” she whispered, smiling into her pillow.

Hale took her limp hand and kissed it, trailing languid kisses up her forearm.

He paused to say, “Make me a promise, mate.”

Remy opened her eyes at that. Hale dropped her hand to cup her cheek instead.

“Promise me I will never have to watch you die again.” He said it as if he meant it to be a joke, but there was too much pain in his voice to pull it off.

“You know I can’t promise that.” Remy stroked her hand down his forearm.

“Lie to me, then,” he rasped.

Remy brushed a chestnut lock of his hair off his forehead. She loved this, that she could touch him freely, whenever she wanted, something she had long wished to do.

“I pray we go together, after a lifetime of happiness, in a big comfy bed such as this,” she said, stroking her hand across the satin pillow.

“Let it be so,” Hale prayed, swiping his thumb across her cheek.

Remy looked to the crackling fireplace, the floor adorned with ornate rugs, the heavy blue velvet curtains that matched the ones in . . . the Northern King’s throne room.

“Where are we?” Remy asked, sitting upright.

Someone had left a glass of water on the bedside table. She drained it and then refilled it from the pitcher nearby.

“We have taken control of the Northern palace,” Hale said, confirming Remy’s fears.

“Is it safe to be staying here? I know the King might be dead, but his people will not so easily bow to the High Mountain Court and . . .”

As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door. Hale looked to Remy and waited for her response.

“Come in,” she called.

Remy swept her tangled hair off her face and smoothed her crumpled nightdress. She pulled the fur blanket back over herself, covering her chest as she leaned on the headboard.

The door opened, and there was Bern, standing like a silver snow wolf, smiling through his icy blue eyes. He stood like a warrior, though dressed in his court finery, wearing a waistcoat the color of sea mist that matched his pale eyes.

He stood preternaturally still in the doorway. Remy smiled back, and his throat bobbed, the only sign that he was holding back his emotions.

“It is nice to see you alive.” He squeezed out a raw laugh.

He walked to her bedside then. All this time, he had been working for her brother, she thought. It was Bern who tipped off Hale about the red witches and the talismans. Bern had been working for Raffiel.

Remy thought of her brother and of Bern’s pained screams as he held Raffiel’s body.

“I did not know he was alive,” Remy said. Hale wrapped an arm around her shoulder as a sudden wave of grief flooded into her, warring with her disbelief. Raffiel was gone. Heather was gone. A white-hot poker stabbed at her chest. They were gone

“I did not know he lived either. Not for certain.” Hale’s eyes narrowed at Bern. Hale had been informed by the silver-haired fae about the red witches camping in the mountains, and about the location of the Shil-de ring now on his finger . . . but Hale was never told about Raffiel.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you everything, friend,” Bern said to Hale. “I couldn’t let the son of the Eastern King know of what we were up to, just in case.” In case Gedwin Norwood was not a true ally to the High Mountain Court as he had shown himself to be.

Bern looked back to Remy. “You did not hear the rumors?”

He faked his usual slyness, but it rang more of sorrow. He had dark circles under his eyes. His face looked weathered, and his hair was disheveled.

“I trust you were the one spreading those rumors,” Remy said, her eyes welling at the silver-haired courtier. “So Raffiel was the employer you were playing for at that card game in Ruttmore?”

“We have been gathering forces for some time in the mountains between Yexshire and the Western Court. Baba Morganna told us we’d find a red witch in Harbruck she called Little Sparrow.” Bern furrowed his brow. “She did not say it was you. We knew Hale was looking for a red witch, so we tipped him off. But when I went to that card game and saw it was you . . . our plans changed.”

Guilt racked her. Their plans changed for her, and now Raffiel was dead. Her capture had forced them to strike before they were ready. Her older brother came to her rescue only to be killed. Remy would never be ready to face that fact. She was responsible for her brother’s death.

“You knew who I was as well?” Remy tried to hide her broken heart as she frowned at her wrist. “Was it these bloody freckles again?”

Bern cocked an eyebrow at her. “You mean, I shouldn’t have been able to guess just by looking at you?” Bern raised his eyebrows at Remy. “Even in your witch form, the resemblance to your brother is uncanny. If only we had known you were alive, we would have come to find you sooner.” His forced smile faded as he looked in her eyes, getting lost in them for a moment. When he spoke, it was a whisper. “You both have those Dammacus eyes . . . as does your sister.”

“Rua,” Remy breathed, remembering her sister wielding the Immortal Blade. “Is she all right?”

“She is fine,” Bern said, albeit a little clipped. “We will send word to her that you are awake.”

“Did you know she was alive?” Remy asked.

“Yes, for several years.” Bern nodded. “A red witch hiding in the High Mountains told me Baba Morganna lived. She told me that Rua was with them, safe in the mountains across from us. We went to them as soon as we heard. We tried to visit the red witch camps as much as we could, but we had our hands full gathering the survivors of the High Mountain Court.”

Remy’s hands trembled, and Hale threaded his fingers through hers. Her sister grew up with the coven of their court, in the forests of their own homeland. On the other side of the mountains, Rua had lived this whole time.

“How many are left?” Remy asked.

“Four hundred or so,” Bern answered. “The numbers are always changing. Many aren’t originally Yexshiri but rather asylum seekers from other courts. We brought the strongest and best fighters with us when we came here.”

Four hundred.

It was more than she had hoped to dream, and yet it was devastatingly low compared to the tens of thousands who had once called Yexshire home.

“And the red witches?” Remy asked, remembering all the ones the Northern King had killed before he brought the remaining five before his court.

“We don’t know.” Bern frowned to the floor. “Baba Morganna and the other red witch left straight after the battle to head back to Yexshire. She said a few dozen witches had fled into the woods when they were captured. More might come out of hiding, those who have scattered to every corner of the realm, now that it is safe to do so.”

Remy swallowed. The numbers were disheartening, but there was a spark of hope, a spark she hoped they could coax into a flame.

“The soldiers and I are leaving tonight. We are setting up camp in Yexshire to oversee the rebuilding of the palace and the city. At least, that was Raffiel’s plan, but you are the ruler of the High Mountain Court, Your Majesty, should you wish to order the soldiers somewhere else.”

“We stick to Raffiel’s plan for now.” Remy pursed her lips. Bern had called her “Your Majesty.” For a fleeting moment, Remy thought she would not have to take the throne. When Raffiel died, that freedom ripped away from her again.

Bern looked to Hale. “I think you should go east to establish your presence in the court there.”

“I will not claim the East,” Hale said. “It was never mine to claim, nor do I want it now.” Bern went to speak, but Hale continued. “I also acknowledge we cannot leave Augustus and the fallen Eastern King’s advisors to rule instead. We can ride to the East and arrange an intermediary governance while we plan for a permanent sovereign. I can think of an excellent person to help oversee the selection.” Hale smiled.

Bern bobbed his chin. “I can offer you fifty of our soldiers to ride with you, but we will need the rest for the rebuilding of Yexshire.”

“I will summon my troops in Falhampton as well,” Hale said. “Augustus would be foolish to try to fight us.”

“And what of the Northern Court?” Remy asked.

“Renwick will rule the Northern Court,” Bern said.

“What? The Witchslayer?” Remy straightened, nearly jumping out of the bed. “You would leave a Vostemur on the throne?”

“I realize it may seem unreasonable, but Renwick has been our ally for some time, Remy,” Bern said. “He has had to walk a fine line of allegiances for many years. He is the one who brought me into play. He is the one who slipped you that dagger.” Bern cocked his head toward Remy’s dagger that lay on her bedside table. “His people will listen to him far more than they would a High Mountain fae too.”

“He could be double-crossing us.” Remy balked. “He could have just been securing the throne for himself or hedging his bets . . . we cannot trust him.”

“I have reason to believe we can . . . ,” Bern said, but before Remy could interject, he continued, “I agree we must be cautious, though, which is why Rua is going to stay behind and oversee his transition to power.”

“Rua?” Remy protested. “You would leave my little sister behind with our sworn enemy?!”

“She volunteered for the job.” Bern laughed. “And I need not remind you that Rua is in possession of the Immortal Blade. She is a fearsome warning, and her presence along with the Immortal Blade will make any Northerner think twice of mutiny.”

Remy grimaced. It was true. Keeping the Immortal Blade in the North would be a clever act of intimidation. She hated that her little sister had to stay with it, though. Did Rua even know how to use a sword?

“So you go to the mountains,” Remy said looking at Bern, “I go east, and Rua stays in the North. Scattered through the courts once more.”

“Hopefully not for long.” Bern smiled sadly. He grabbed something out of the pocket of his satin waistcoat. “Here.”

He produced a long gold chain holding a heavy glowing red stone: the amulet of Aelusien. Remy shook her head at first, but Bern pressed it into her hands.

“You should have it. You did, after all, nearly die obtaining it.”

Remy looked to Hale, smirking at her. He must have told Bern the story of how the amulet of Aelusien came into their possession.

“And it will add a nice bit of pressure on the East too,” Bern added, cocking his head.

“Were you his general? Raffiel’s?” Remy wondered, looking at Bern. The male’s face caved again at the sound of her brother’s name.

“No,” Bern said. “I was his Fated mate.”

* * *

Remy exited the bathing chamber and returned into the opulent room. She tied her hair up in a burgundy scarf and wore a fresh golden tunic with red embroidery, fitted trousers, and riding boots. The amulet of Aelusien hung heavily around her neck.

Hale had pushed for them to stay another night in the Northern Court. Remy had denied him, insisting they leave for the East at once. They needed to intervene before Hale’s supposed brother, Augustus, and the late King’s advisors had time to regroup. Word of what happened the night before would reach them soon enough, and Hale and Remy needed to be right behind the news, ready to take control of the Eastern Court.

Hale had cleaned up as well. He stood over a basin of water, his white shirtsleeves rolled up. He had shaved off the beard from his dungeon days. He looked the princely warrior once more. He shifted his hair out of his eyes. His chestnut brown hair needed a trim too. The sides had gotten long, and the top now stretched past his nose, forcing him to swipe the locks back.

“Ready?” he asked, rolling down his sleeves.

Remy walked to him and wrapped her arms around him. He smiled into her shoulder and gave it a kiss.

“I love you,” Remy whispered into his hard chest.

Hale’s arms enveloped her, squeezing tighter for a moment before releasing her. He moved his hands to frame Remy’s face. Remy didn’t think she would ever get used to the way Hale looked at her. She could stare into those smoky gray eyes forever.

“I love you too.” His face was so open and beautiful at that moment.

He leaned forward, his lips meeting Remy’s in a soft, slow kiss. It was a kiss that promised many sweeter, slow kisses to come. It promised many nights when they could take their time passionately exploring each other’s bodies . . . though Remy did not mind their rushed and frantic lovemaking either. She wanted it all with this gorgeous male in front of her. She wanted a lifetime with her Fated.

Hale pulled back from the kiss, leaving Remy wanting. His half-hooded eyes snagged on the Shil-de ring on his right hand, resting on Remy’s cheek.

“You should not have put this ring on me, Remy.” His voice filled with lament. “It belongs to you and your family, and now I cannot take it off.”

“You are my family, Hale,” Remy whispered.

Hale’s eyes darted to hers, raw and vulnerable. His entire family had been a lie. He was just a pawn in his adoptive father’s bigger plans. He had never treated him like a son. “I don’t really know what family even means.”

“Neither do I,” Remy said with a sad smile. “I don’t know if I’m meant to feel closer to the sister I haven’t seen in fourteen years. I don’t know how much of a familial bond will carry us through. But I do know something that Heather . . .”

Remy choked on her tears. They sprung up so abruptly when it hit her again: Heather was gone. The grief washed over her anew.

Hale swiped away the tears that fell down Remy’s cheek with his thumb. She loved that Hale felt unburdened by her tears. He stood there, letting her feel it all, giving her time to use her voice again.

“Heather was my family.” Remy hung her head as her voice shook.

A wave of regret hit her once more. She wished she had been kinder to Heather. Remy wished she hadn’t directed her anger at her guardian all the time. She wished she had called her “Mother” because that is who she truly was. Heather was an unknown brown witch who had steadfastly defended Remy and raised her with all of a mother’s protection and love. Remy set herself a silent intention that once they returned to Yexshire, she would place Heather’s burial stone behind the Castle of Yexshire, along with the rest of the family she lost. And on every Day of the Spirits she would visit both of her mothers.

Resting her hand over his heart, Remy looked to Hale.

“I do not know all that the future will hold, but I know this: I am your Fated, and I am your family.” Remy held her mate’s eyes as she watched her words crack him open.

His throat bobbed as he nodded. She knew he could not speak.

Before Remy could ask what he was doing, he unknotted that red thread around his wrist. With his teeth he ripped it in two. It had survived a poison lake, imprisonment in a dungeon, and a battle. Yet there it was. She had put it on him and told him he was hers.

“I plan on buying a much nicer ring in the East,” Hale said, bending down onto one knee, “but I cannot wait.”

Remy’s mouth dropped in surprise. Hale held up the two equal lengths of thread. He was her soul mate, the person she intended to live the rest of her life with, and somehow this still came as a surprise.

“Remini Maescia Dammacus, Queen of the High Mountain Court . . . will you marry me?” Hale’s smile made Remy want to buckle at the knees. It was a rare smile, so bright and hopeful.

Remy’s chest felt like it might burst open.

“Yes.” She wasn’t sure if it was a laugh or a cry.

Hale leapt to his feet, that beautiful smile widening further as he tied that length of red string around her finger. Remy made quick work of knotting the second length onto his.

Hale pulled her face to him, crashing their mouths together. Remy threaded her fingers through his soft hair, pulling him in closer.

It was a desperate kiss, the horror of all they had seen mixed with the hope of a brighter future. As the chaos of the past collided with what was to come, that kiss was the only thing that mattered.

Hale removed his lips to trail kisses down Remy’s neck and collarbone, shifting his hands to her hips, pulling their lower bodies together.

“How did you know my middle name?” she said, recalling his words.

Hale pulled away a mere inch and smiled at her.

“I looked it up in the private libraries of the Eastern Court the last time we were there.” His grin turned sinful. “I wanted to know your full name before I proposed to you.”

“You were planning on proposing to me even then?” Remy blanched.

Remy remembered that day on the boat, crossing the Crushwold River. She remembered that kiss in that inn in Ruttmore too. She had wanted Hale for a long time as well. But to know he had wanted to marry her for so long . . .

“I have wanted to marry you from the moment you almost crushed me with that pine tree way back in Harbruck,” he said in that delicious, rolling purr that made Remy’s stomach clench.

It was real. It had always been true and inevitable. Her Fated.

Remy broke her hold on Hale and walked to their bedroom door. She snicked the lock as she looked at him.

“What about leaving at once for the East?” He grinned wickedly.

“The East can wait,” Remy said, prowling back to her Fated, her fiancé. The world could wait. The only person that mattered right now was Hale, and she needed him in every way. She needed their bodies as intertwined as their souls.

* * *

The caved-in ceiling opened up to a hazy, gray sky. Hale and Remy walked through the snow-filled corridor, navigating around the rubble. The castle was mostly ruins after the wrath of Baba Morganna. They winded toward the front entryway, where a caravan of carriages waited to ride back to Yexshire. The haunted halls were empty, the aftermath of the battle evident every few paces—splatters of brown dried blood, dented armor, abandoned shoes dusted in snow.

“Remy!” a whooping shout came from behind them just as another echoed, “Hale!”

She didn’t have time to brace for the impact as three fae warriors barreled into her, squashing her and Hale against the wall, the hood of her cloak flying off. Grabbing the Eagles and Carys, she pulled them into a tight hug, a potent mixture of joy and sorrow coursing through her as she clung to them.

“You were incredible,” Talhan exclaimed, looking to Hale. “Did you see her? She fought off five armored soldiers with that one little dagger!”

“I taught her everything she knows,” Bri said, clapping her on the shoulder. “You didn’t die, Rem.”

“I did,” Remy muttered as Carys slung her arm around Remy’s waist and pulled her into her side.

“I am so sorry about Heather, Remy,” she said, her voice cracking as the group sobered. “She was an amazing person and she will be deeply missed.”

They pressed in closer, arms tightening around each other, mourning the loss of the brown witch.

“And Raffiel,” Talhan said, his golden eyes filled with lament. “They have been washed and dressed, ready to take back to their final resting place.”

Remy bit her lips between her teeth to keep the tears from flowing. She would bury them in the hills behind the ruins of the castle in Yexshire. She would give them the burial her parents never received. Fresh white flowers would always adorn their graves. She would make sure their sacrifices were never forgotten.

“The High Mountain crowns have been loaded into the carriages too,” Carys said, her blue eyes darting between Remy and Hale. “Your crowns, now.”

Bri’s gaze dropped to the string on Remy’s finger. She smacked her brother hard in the chest. “I told you, didn’t I? She was his Fated.” She beamed at Remy with her cat-like grin. “I totally guessed it.”

Talhan guffawed. “She had no idea.”

“So we ride to Yexshire,” Remy sighed, looking at Hale and then back to her friends. “And where will you go?”

“Someone needs to head east and get control of Wynreach until a new sovereign is chosen,” Carys said. “We will go keep the peace.”

“We just got back together,” Talhan whined.

“We will come visit you in the East, Tal,” Remy said, leaning her shoulder into Hale. “After we lead our people to Yexshire.”

“You are free of your oath to me now.” Hale’s voice dropped an octave as he stared down at his hands. “I am not a Prince of the Eastern Court.”

Bri snorted. “No,” she said. “You’re the future King of the High Mountain Court.”

Talhan grinned, looking between Hale and Remy. “We’re with you. Always.”

Remy swallowed the lump in her throat as she smiled at them.

“Come on, let’s get to the carriages.” Bri pulled them down the corridor. “I need to take a nap.”

“It is mid-morning.” Remy chuckled, smelling the lingering scent of ale and moonshine on their breaths.

“Exactly.” Talhan wrapped his hefty arm around Remy’s shoulder as he guided her down the hall. “Time to sleep.”

Their laughter reverberated off the cold stone walls, their joy so at odds with the destruction around them. Remy glanced up at the crumbling wall towering above her. Even through the depths of their losses, there was a feeling of awe too. Against all odds, they had survived.

They had traveled through every court in Okrith together, save for her home court. She hoped there would be nights of drinking and storytelling around the hearth of the rebuilt castle in Yexshire. She hoped they would all go up to the rooftop of Lavender Hall again and sip honey wine in the gardens of Saxbridge. But above all, she hoped that their future adventures would be together more often than apart.

Pulling her fur-trimmed cloak tighter around her, Remy followed Hale out into the blizzard. A carriage waited outside the doorway. Behind them, the Northern castle was all but ruins, only a small part of it remaining untouched by the wrath of Baba Morganna. Two servants from Bern’s group were ready to help Remy into the carriage.

Bern sat downhill on horseback. Surrounded by fifty of his soldiers, he readied his troops to march south into Yexshire. Carys, Talhan, and Bri moved toward the saddled mounts, waiting to head east.

This was her life now—carriages, servants.

Even in the camps of Yexshire while they rebuilt the castle, they would treat her like a queen. She was the queen, though a coronation would have to wait for now.

This was her destiny laid out before her.

For the briefest flicker of time, Remy had thought it wouldn’t have to be her, that Raffiel would take the throne and she could relax and live her life with Hale. But that wasn’t the truth that had been gnawing into her gut these fourteen years. She knew that, for Yexshire to rise again, she would have to take her place on the throne. She knew no one would come in and do it for her.

The world would not make her, she would make the world.

One soldier broke from the gathering up ahead. He was a head taller than those around him, long and lean, though filling out. Remy’s feet were moving before she could stop herself.

Fenrin.

Remy caught the brown witch before he could move into a bow and threw her arms around him. She squeezed him like a vice, willing herself not to cry. All the eyes of her people were on her, but she did not care. Let them see her hugging the witch.

“Don’t torture yourself for it, Remy. It was her choice, and she made the right one,” Fenrin said, knowing the guilt Remy felt for Heather’s death. She didn’t have to say one word for him to know from that squeeze that she loved him, appreciated him. “You know she’d always make that choice.”

Remy bit her lip so hard she was sure it would draw blood. She would not cry again in front of the people who had risked their lives to save her. She needed to show strength.

They released the hug and surveyed the gathering caravan of people and horses heading to Yexshire.

“It’s too much, Fen,” Remy said, surveying her people.

“You always were a queen, Remy, always. You just are letting other people see it now too,” he said.

“I will have need of a brown witch in Yexshire. I’m sure many of my people will need the help of a palace brown witch. Would you care to take the position?”

“Of course,” he said, eyes lighting up. Then he smirked at her. “I have many suggestions of how you can design your palace.”

“Excellent.” She smiled. They had been imagining building a home in Yexshire since they were twelve. If anyone knew what she wanted in a palace, it would be Fenrin.

The brown witch looked over her shoulder. “Your Fated is a good man, Remy, I’m happy for you.”

She loosed a long-held sigh at that. Not knowing how much she needed to hear that, she was grateful that Fenrin had released her from his feelings. She wanted Fenrin’s approval of Hale. Remy hoped Heather would have approved of him too.

“Your Majesty.” Carys coughed from her horse behind them.

Remy turned and saw, standing in the arched stone doorway of the palace, her sister. She hustled up the hillside, snow sticking to her black hair.

Rua stood stoically in front of her, her hand resting on the ruby hilt of the Immortal Blade. She looked so much like Rivitus. She had the same smattering of dark freckles across her golden-brown skin, green and brown eyes, and highlights of strawberry blonde in her wavy, dark hair. Her looks were willowy and ethereal, but her countenance was rock hard. She stood perfectly, shoulders back, chin up. At eighteen, she looked like she could conquer the world.

Remy hesitated for a moment before hugging her sister. She dropped heavy tears as she hugged Rua. She couldn’t contain them, hugging the only member of her family who lived. She never thought she would see Rua again, and here she was, beautiful and strong. Rua lifted one arm and rested it tentatively on Remy’s back, the other remaining on her sword.

When they pulled away, Rua’s face was unchanged, unaffected by that long embrace. It stung. Remy wondered what had happened in Rua’s childhood to make her this way . . . or maybe the sword had done something to her sister.

Renwick appeared, lingering in the archway, as Remy wiped her tears. She narrowed a hateful look at him, and he huffed out a laugh.

She looked back at her sister. “You do not have to stay here. You could come back home with us.”

Home. It felt so good to say.

They were going home. Remy and her people would rebuild their homeland. The future of their people was promising once more. Let the realm know what it meant to be a High Mountain fae. She would lead her people back into the light of a new age.

“I will be fine,” Rua said. There was no anger or frustration in her voice, only a stoic coldness that worried Remy more than any emotion. This was not the same girl who was shaking and screaming while Northern soldiers cut down witches beside her.

Rua looked back to Renwick with a snarl. Good. At least there was something there, then. “I will let them know the power of the High Mountains.”

Remy stared at Rua for another moment. Her little sister was fearsome. Remy wondered what her life had been, growing up with the red witches in hiding. She imagined being raised by red witches in the woods was wholly different from the way Heather raised her in taverns. Whatever her upbringing, it had molded her into the person standing here now. She quaked to think what her sister would do with that blade.

“I will be in touch through fae fires. Regularly. It won’t be long until Winter Solstice, which I hope you come home for, you . . . and Renwick,” Remy added with a drip of disgust that made her sister smile. At least they could agree to hate him, then. Maybe they could bond over that. “Please contact me whenever you can.”

Rua nodded, and that was her only response. Her sister didn’t bristle under Remy’s sad stare. This was not the reunion Remy had hoped for.

She felt someone standing beside her. A worn leather pack thudded to the ground. She looked over and saw Bri.

“I’ve had enough of the East,” Bri said, looking at Remy. “With your permission, Your Majesty, I’d like to stay behind and offer my protection to Princess Ruadora.”

Remy sagged with relief.

She could cry all over again that her friend had offered to stay. She didn’t trust any of Bern’s soldiers to stay behind. She didn’t know any of them. She didn’t feel like she could order Hale’s warriors around either. She supposed she would have to get used to ordering people around. But Bri had seen her distress and volunteered.

“I do not need your assistance,” Rua said.

“I know you don’t need it,” Remy said to her sister. “You’ve proven your power and skill,” she added, trying to puff her up. “But the North is still rife with those loyal to the fallen King. Even with that sword, you still need to sleep. Let one more pair of eyes guard your back. Please.”

Remy hated that she had to beg. She knew she could demand it and her sister could not refuse, but she wasn’t willing to throw down that gauntlet, not when they had just found each other again.

So she pleaded. Let her sister think she had a say. This relationship was already more tenuous than Remy had hoped, but with Bri there, at least she would know Rua would be safe.

“Fine.” Rua drifted those green-flecked eyes to Bri. The Eagle matched it with her own golden stare. These two were going to be an interesting pairing.

Remy gave one last half smile to her sister and turned. That was that. She plodded to the carriage where Hale waited. He stood proudly, looking at her.

He threaded his warm fingers through her hand. She felt the red thread tied around her ring finger.

“Give her time,” he mumbled.

Remy held onto his hand tighter.

Her Fated saw it all, how desperately she wanted her sister’s love, how badly she needed that connection.

It would come. Hale was right. Rua had been through an unspeakable trauma. She just needed time. At least, Remy hoped that was all she needed. She hated leaving her in the North, but she didn’t want to leave Renwick unchecked either. At least Bri would stay behind.

Remy scanned out over the swirling white blizzard. It would be a long trek through this weather, but she could not wait. She knew her people could not wait either. They would rather trudge through a snowstorm to reach their homeland than to wait another night in the castle of their enemy. It was only the beginning for them. The new day their world had been waiting fourteen years for was dawning. And it would be Remy who would usher in that change, with her King by her side.