Swallowing, she left Jace's embrace and took a step forward, allowing her fingers to hover over the crown. And then, with a steady breath, she picked it up.
And as the ancient power surged through her, the whispers finally became clear— "The heir has returned."
The golden light surged through the chamber, crackling like lightning, filling every shadowed corner with an overwhelming radiance.
The weight of the crown in Grace's hands sent a pulse through her veins like an electric hum—It was neither painful nor gentle, but something in between.
Jace watched transfixed, not knowing exactly what to do at the moment. "Grace—" he began but for some inexplicable reason stopped himself.
Grace didn't answer. She was obviously in a world of her own, completely cut off from the people around her. Her heart was thudding too loudly in her ears, and the moment felt split between dream and revelation.
