(eng) Michelle Sagara - Queen of the Dead 03 by Grave (retail)

Author:Grave (retail) [Grave (retail)]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

THE SKY IS CLEAR.

This is the day Reyna has dreamed of for so long now she only barely remembers the first time she made the wish. She can’t remember the details; she is certain that details existed, in the long-ago village in which her life almost ended.

What did she dream of, then?

She frowns. Eric’s arm is beneath her hand; it is stiff and cold. He walks by her side, but he stares straight ahead. He is wearing a ring on his hand. He is wearing a ring that she did not give him. Today, of all days. She wants to tell him to take it off. She wants him to understand how painful it is to see it there. She has crowned him. She has opened the heart of her citadel to him—as she always intended. He has never really listened to her. He has never understood what she was trying to build.

Oh, in the past he had questions.

She answered them. For some reason he refused to accept those answers, twisting them into ugly things instead. He has always been better with words than Reyna.

Her hand tightens as they approached the gates. She remembers the stream and the tree against which she used to lean. She remembers the warmth of the sunlight; the shadows warm in a different way. She remembers, then, that her mother was alive. Her sister. She wanted to marry Eric.

She wanted to live in that village.

It was a small village. It was small, primitive, and ultimately savage.

What she has built for Eric—for the two of them—is so much better. There is knowledge here. There is safety here. They could love each other without fear of censure. Without fear of death.

But . . . for some inexplicable reason, she misses the trees.

She almost stumbles and casts a glare over her shoulder—but her train, her skirts, are perfectly placed. The stones beneath her feet are flat and smooth; there are no roots, no pebbles, nothing on which to trip.

This is not the dress she would have worn had she married Eric when her family was still alive. This is not the day she would have had. It’s better. Surely it’s better? This is something that Reyna has built for herself, with her own power.

But she remembers Eric’s smile. Or perhaps the way his smile made her feel. She hasn’t felt that way about anything in a long time. Not since Eric. Not since those days in the village when she fell in love and was loved.

She remembers sneaking out of her room when it was only barely dawn. She remembers the excitement, the giddiness, and the fear of her mother’s anger, should she be caught. She remembers running all the way to the tree—but stopping a hundred yards away, because she didn’t want to look pathetic to Eric.

But Eric was always there first. She would try to approach quietly, so as not to disturb him. She liked to look at his face, his expression, the half-closed eyes with their fan of lashes.

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