Etta left Alex once before. After Alex imprisoned Edmund for his magic, he’d asked her to break his friend out of the dungeons and get him somewhere he’d be protected. It was amazing how far the king of Gaule had come since then.
When she’d gotten free of the castle with Edmund and Tyson, Alex hadn’t known her true identity, and she hadn’t known the true implications of the curse. She hadn’t known that every moment she spent at a distance from her charge would be shrouded in agony.
She hadn’t planned to return, but instead to seek out La Dame and break the curse.
She’d been naive.
When Alex learned who she was and of the magic in her blood, he’d sent his men after her and the small string of hope she’d had for him had been broken.
She never imagined it would be restored, but it had.
Now, she stood on the border between Bela and Gaule next to Alex, unsure of any words with the power to make this anything other than the end.
Because it was.
After everything they’d been through, the imprisonments, the battles, the hushed words in the middle of quiet nights—this was where they broke. And this time, there would be no reconciliation, no reunion.
There was a harsh sting that came with the finality of goodbye.
Alex squeezed her fingers, refusing to let go of her hand.
“It’s time.” Duchess Moreau’s voice was soft.
To many, she seemed the only person who wasn’t losing someone to these wards. She wasn’t being separated from people she loved.
But those people only had to look her in the eye to see how wrong they were. The duchess had dedicated her life to protecting magic folk. She’d hidden them from the blood-thirsty soldiers during the purge. She’d given them good lives on her land. Allowed them to live freely without risk of persecution. She’d fought the old king every step of the way and worked to show Alex that they too deserved freedom.
In erecting the wards, they were admitting defeat. They’d lost. Gaule couldn’t protect magic folk from their own. The kingdom only moved in reverse.
Tyson was the first to step across the border after tearful hugs with his mother and Amalie. Ara was next.
Edmund gripped Alex’s shoulder. “Don’t try to die again,” he said. “Next time, we won’t be able to come save you.”
The words sounded light, as if Edmund had no cares, but Etta knew better.
Alex brought her hand to his lips and lingered there. “I love you,” he whispered.
She reached up to run her fingers along his jaw. “Stay safe, your Majesty.”
He smiled sadly. “You as well, your Majesty.”
He pressed a light kiss to her temple and then her lips before finally releasing her.
The deadline had passed and Belaens who had not yet left Gaule would have to fend for themselves. The Gaulean people would have their kingdom back as they’d always wanted.
Etta nodded stiffly and stepped across the border. Her power twisted and churned as if straining to be free.
She tested it, gathering every ounce of control she had. As planned, the group still in Gaule moved back away from the border. She hadn’t explained everything to them, but if her magic was too powerful for her, she didn’t want to hurt them. She reined in her emotions and sucked in a breath before letting the power leak from her fingertips. It hit the cold air and expanded as she shaped and molded it, invisible to all but her. She saw gold and light and everything good as it encompassed her before darkness started to creep in.
As she closed her eyes, she called forth an image of her father, separating the magic he’d possessed from any other. She saw them so clearly, the wards, a shimmering barrier only her mind knew. She didn’t know how much time had passed as the power trapped her in her own mind. It took every ounce of energy not to let it burst forth as she hesitated, unsure if she could protect Gaule as her father had, if she could accomplish this feat.
You’re strong enough for this, Persinette. Her father’s voice echoed in her head. Let the power free.
The magic was like tiny lightning strikes along her skin as it obeyed her, taking slightly more control than she ceded willingly.
Her body sagged to the ground, utterly spent, as she opened her eyes.
Nothing looked different. Alex stood in the distance, his hands clasped behind his back as he watched her.
Her lungs expanded painfully, and she exhaled.
“I hear it,” Tyson whispered.
The air itself buzzed. The magic swirled around them, inching along her skin.
“Yeah,” Edmund answered. “I do too.”
Ara whispered a few words that weren’t for their ears. When Alex nodded, Etta sat up on her heels.
“Magic works across the wards,” Ara confirmed.
“It doesn’t matter,” Etta said. “We can’t bring them into a fight.”
Edmund pulled her to her feet, and she walked to where their horses were grazing. Vérité lifted his head.
“Come on, boy.” She strained to pull her tired body into the saddle. “No time to look back at a different life. It’s time to go home.”
Time to remind herself that Bela was her home, not Gaule.
They had a long few days ahead of them, but then they’d be back among their people. She forced herself to push Alex into a box in her mind, not wanting to cry over what she couldn’t have.
Before winter was over, they had to get the new arrivals from Gaule situated, and then, they’d prepare for war.
Alex stayed until they were no longer visible across the border. Etta didn’t glance back as she rode away. Tyson’s eyes met his one final time and Alex wanted to run after them.
He understood why Tyson went. He needed to be part of the fight. But that didn’t make it any easier.
His mother appeared beside him and hooked his arm with hers. “Goodbye is never easy.”
“Tyson is still a kid, mother.”
She leaned her head against his arm. “Tyson has never been a normal kid. From the moment I had Viktor Basile’s child, his destiny did not run alongside ours.”
“Alexandre?” Camille said tentatively from behind them.
He turned to find his sister leaning on her cane, her normally cold expression flooded with sorrow. She flicked her eyes back to where Tyson had disappeared and for the first time, he remembered he wasn’t the only one who’d had to say goodbye to a brother. Camille hated Etta, but in her own way, she had loved Tyson.
He wrapped an arm around her. She might be defiant and harsh, but they had so little family left. Despite her feelings toward magic, she’d stuck by his side.
“I hate this,” she whispered.
“Me too.” Kissing the top of her head, he released her. “But now we have a peace to restore.” He considered her for a moment. “Will you join me in meeting with Anders?”
Her watery eyes widened. “You actually want my help? Not my husband or the duchess?”
Her surprise ate away at him. Had he really shoved her aside? She was a part of the royal family and knew more about ruling than he ever would.
He glanced at his mother who was watching them carefully before grabbing his sister’s arm to help her walk over the uneven ground. “Come on. We have a lot to do.”