Page 216 of The Witch Queen

Silence follows and I’m sure that they’ll reject me. That all this will have been for nothing. But then—

“Aye!” Roland knocks the end of his spear on the floor. “The Dwarves stand with the queen!”

He motions to the others and they nod their assent, raising their weapons in salute.

“Long live Queen Blodwyn!” Another cheer goes up.

The palace guards bang their fists on their shields. Dwarves toss their hats in the air. The witches conjure sparks in celebration. My attention lands on one in particular—Ayleth. I recall the moment in the courtyard when I made my announcement to begin the trials. The fear and suspicion and even hatred in her eyes.

This time, all I see in their glimmering depths is pride.

Chapter Sixty-Three

Ayleth

Margaret’s army arrives a few days later. Between their numbers, our own forces, and the restored alliance with the witches, the Rycinthian war fizzles within a matter of days.

Tension in the realm itself, however, is another matter.

Much of Riven celebrates the dawn of a new age, its citizens eager for the ruler they call theWitch Queenand the power that promises to protect the realm for years to come. But, as ever, there are pockets of dissent. Within a week, we hear of Follower groups rearing their heads again, declaring Blodwyn’s power an abomination. Warbeck and his allies are still slinking about court, no doubt hatching their own schemes. But Blodwyn handles such situations with patience and grace, far better than I ever did. With Margaret’s assistance, she charms the nobles and establishes strong alliances. She orders food and aid be sent to all areas affected by Malum. Adds Roland and other Dwarves to the council. There’s even talk of representatives from the common people being invited to join their meetings. Warbeck and many of the other nobles will hate that idea, just as Callen would have. But I have little doubt that Blodwyn will tame them. That, in time, they will all come to respect her—and Riven will be better for it.

But I’m still not sure of my own place in this reforged realm.

“Will the throne room be ready in time?” Joan asks, bringing me back into the present.

I’ve been keeping myself busy with planning Blodwyn’s coronation, an event that seems to grow larger and more elaborate every day. We’re in Joan’s study. Fitz is cowering under the desk as Nettle leans over the edge to swat at him.

“Should be,” Roland replies. “Have my crew working on it ’round the clock. And here—just got these sketches in.”

He unrolls a sheet of parchment, displaying a drawing of Blodwyn’s crown. It’s a stunning piece with scrolling white-gold metalwork and a myriad of jewels. Some are apple-shaped, representing the princess’s line. But there are other elements as well. Special gems gifted by the Dwarves. Runes for protection and strength engraved by the witches.

“It’s beautiful,” I comment, running my fingertips over the ink.

“Surprised to hearyousay that,” Roland comments.

“Why?”

“New crown. New queen,” he says with a shrug. “Can’t imagine it’s easy for you.”

If I didn’t know better, I’d say Roland was concerned. And he’s not wrong. At first, I did feel that old sting of jealousy at watching myself be replaced. But I’ve learned by now the cost of feeding such instincts.

“I’m happy for Blodwyn,” I say, earning a skeptical eyebrow from Roland. “Really. Besides, I never actually wanted my own crown.”

He scoffs. “Well, that’s a fine thing to figure outnow.After all that mess.”

“Roland,” Joan scolds.

“He has a point,” I allow. “I did make a mess of things. There’s much that I regret.”

Not all of it, though. Shadows shimmer in the corners of the room.

“We’re here now,” Joan says kindly. “The rest is in the past.”

Roland just grunts. “And what are you going to do, Mistress Witch? Stay at court? Cozy up with the nobles?”

The question presses on a sore spot. I’d been hoping to discuss such plans with Jacquetta. But I’ve seen very little of the other witch sincethe night of the battle. She and Sindony and the rest of the former coven witches retreated to a nearby Sanctum in order to talk about what’s next for them. Given my history with the witches, it was decided that I shouldn’t join. Jacquetta promised that she would let me know when I’d be welcome. But it’s been weeks and I haven’t heard from her at all. With each day that passes, I’m starting to wonder if I ever will.

“I’m not sure,” I admit.