Astrid
The pyres hadn’t stopped burning since Elira died.
It blanketed the ground in silence, muffling footsteps and muting voices. The entire courtyard shimmered under a veil of black clouds as if Castleburg itself mourned.
Her body was laid beneath the ancient willow in the northern grove—a sacred place once reserved for vampire priestesses, queens, and those who had died with honour. I made an exception for her.
She had died serving me. That was enough.
A path of torches lined the clearing, silence covered everywhere, but the quiet was not out of reverence. It was fear. They knew Elira’s death was not the end, but the beginning.
I stood at the head of her grave, the wind tugging at my cloak, the silver circlet on my brow heavy with sorrow. My child shifted within me as if sensing
