DARIAN
The silence in the royal wing was suffocating.
I stood by the balcony of the East Tower, the wind cold against my skin, but not colder than the weight sitting on my chest.
My mother was gone, just like that, after weeks of steady recovery. She closed her eyes yesterday and never opened them again. I hadn’t even said goodbye. They said her heart gave out and that it was her time, but nothing about her death made sense. Nothing.
Especially not when she was getting better, not when her energy had returned and her appetite had improved. I clenched the edge of the balcony until my knuckles went white.
I didn’t remember leaving the balcony. Somehow, I ended up in the war room where the high Lords had gathered in grim silence. I felt Lyra’s eyes on me as I entered. I didn’t look her
