Adira led the way to Irene’s room, and we found the door already cracked open, a sign that the princess was waiting for us. A smile twitched at the corner of Adira’s lips before she eased the door open and crept inside.
Exhaustion crept into the corners of my mind, and I shook my head, intent on staying awake for as long as possible. I followed Adira into the room, which was similar to hers, but with fewer books. An assortment of porcelain dolls was arranged neatly on a series of shelves next to the four poster bed, where Irene was sitting up straight and facing the moonlit window.
Adira and I exchanged an uncertain glance before approaching.
“Irene?” Adira asked quietly.
The younger princess sat so utterly still that I knew something was wrong. This vibrant young girl was never this motionless.
Could she possibly be sleeping?
Adira came to the other side of the bed and stiffened, emitting a soft gasp. I followed, and my heart lurched in my throat.
Irene’s face was ghostly pale. And her eyes were completely rolled back, leaving only white. Her mouth was slightly open, her breathing slow and deep as if she were, indeed, asleep.
“What do we do?” Adira whispered.
“We need to be touching her,” I said, blinking the drowsiness from my mind as I tried to focus. “It’s the best way to link ourselves with whatever is enchanting her.”
“Is she—Is she—” Adira broke off with a shuddering breath.
“She’s unharmed, as far as I can tell.”
Adira nodded, sinking to the edge of the bed. With trembling hands, she gripped Irene’s fingers in her own, then winced. “Her hands are like ice.”
I sat on Irene’s other side and clasped her hand as well, jolting from the chill of her skin against mine. How was she still alive when her body was this cold? And the girl wasn’t even shivering.
“How long will it take?” Adira asked.
I hadn’t realized my eyes were closed until she spoke. They flew open, and my head jerked upright. “I’m not sure.” I stifled a yawn.
“Do you think she can hear us?”
“I doubt it. The spell takes away memories, remember?”
“Right.”
Silence fell between us, and I found myself gazing at the moon hanging in the sky. My eyelids drooped again.
“I’m terrified of becoming queen,” Adira whispered. Her voice was so faint, I thought I’d imagined it. “Because of decisions like that. Like what you spoke of earlier.”
I frowned. “You don’t have to make the same choices the Midnight Queen does, Addie. She may decide that the lives of soldiers are dispensable, but that doesn’t mean you have to.”
“That’s not the point. The point is, there will be difficult decisions to make. People’s lives will be entrusted into my hands. I don’t know if I can handle that responsibility.”
“You can,” I said at once. “I’ve seen you become that fierce warrior, Addie. You have it in you. You just… have to let her out a little more.”
“How?”
I sighed, struggling to maintain clarity in my thoughts as sleep dragged me down. “I’d wager your father doesn’t bring you in council meetings, does he?”
“No. He says it’s not my place.”
“It will be someday. And you’ll never learn if you don’t shadow him.”
“But he says—”
“To hell with what he says. You’re the future queen, Addie. If he won’t show you how to rule, how are you expected to learn? One day, he won’t be around, and you’ll have to figure things out without him. Don’t let that happen before you’ve learned everything you can.”
Adira was silent for a long while. Then, she huffed a laugh. “When did you become so wise, Mango?”
I tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a hum. My eyes were closed again. “Sometimes you see others more clearly than you see yourself. I’ve been watching you for years, Addie, thinking about the woman you’ll become.”
“I think I can understand that,” she said softly. “I’ve been watching you, too, Marek. And you’re far stronger than you believe yourself to be.”
I hummed again. “I’m not strong.”
“You are,” she said firmly. “You’ve spent your entire life training to become a soldier. And then, when you were wounded, you worked doubly hard to strengthen yourself so you could hold your own against others who were faster and bigger than you. You never relented. You never gave up. Even after your injury, I’ve seen you spar, and you are incredible.”
My breath hitched, and my eyes opened. Her words sent warmth spreading through my body, momentarily breaking through the haze of sleepiness. I turned to look at her and found her eyes on me.
“But I don’t just mean physically strong,” Adira went on. “And that’s where you don’t see yourself clearly. You think physical strength is everything because you know what it’s like to be weak. You’ve spent so long trying to prove yourself as a soldier that you’ve forgotten there are other, less obvious strengths to be proud of. You are fiercely loyal. You are clever and wise. And you are a powerful mage.”
“I’m not—”
“You just replicated a spell,” Adira snapped. “A complicated spell. I don’t know who this enemy is who’s captured my sisters, but they know what they’re doing. And you replicated that complex spell in a matter of minutes!”
My heart drummed an erratic rhythm in my chest. “I’m still not entirely sure if it will work,” I mumbled, but the words sounded feeble.
Adira laughed. “I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”
My eyes fixed on her. “And how do you see me?” I blinked sleepily, realizing the rest of my body had gone numb. But I was determined to stay awake, at least to hear her answer.
Her lips parted, and something deep and intense burned in her gaze. Something I had never seen there before. It made my stomach dip with desire, and another surge of heat blossomed within me.
“I see you… as my anchor. My strength. My flame, always burning and always lighting my way.”
I wanted to reply, to tell her what she meant to me, but at that moment, sleep claimed me, and darkness swallowed me whole.