My parents rode with me back home.
I didn't want to stay in the capital after what happened. I needed distance from it. I needed safety.
"Nyra, we'll be downstairs in the guest room," my mother said gently. "Don't worry about breakfast. We'll cook something for you."
They both pulled me into a hug before guiding me upstairs to my room. They waited outside while I undressed, then came in once I was settled. My father held a steaming cup in his hand.
"I brewed this," he said. "It will help you sleep."
I sat on the edge of my bed and drank. The warm liquid soothed me almost immediately.
My mother shook her head, her voice tight. "I can't believe Kaelith would—"
"It wasn't him," I interrupted sharply, louder than I meant to. "It was all Caol. He drugged me. He was going to—"
I stuttered and stopped. Even thinking about it made my skin crawl.
"Kaelith saved me. He hurt him, and he… he—"
I couldn't say it.
But he killed both of those guards.
I hadn't seen their faces, but the way their heads… I couldn't get the image out of my mind.
"That's a serious accusation, Nyra," my father said carefully. "What you're describing is a grave crime—for all parties involved."
I let out a long breath as exhaustion finally hit me. The cup was still half full.
My mother noticed my drooping head and gently took the mug from my hands. "Sleep. We'll worry about this tomorrow."
"We're right here," my father added. "We won't go anywhere until you fall asleep."
"Thank you," I murmured. "I'm sorry I'm such a burden… such a troublesome daughter."
My father groaned softly as he lowered himself into the chair beside my bed. He leaned close and whispered,
"You have never been a burden. You have always been our greatest gift."
I didn't know how I was supposed to sleep. There was too much on my mind.
Kaelith was in prison—gods knew where. Roland was probably with him.
Caol… I didn't even want to think about Caol.
Whatever my father brewed must have been strong.
I fell asleep almost immediately.
I felt weightless.
When I opened my eyes, I was floating in a black void. Pure darkness stretched in every direction.
"I'm sorry."
The voice came from behind me—quiet, shaking, tearful.
I twisted around and saw a little girl with long dark purple hair. She wore a simple white dress, barefoot, curled tightly into herself. Somehow, I was suddenly able to walk. I stepped toward her.
She lifted her head, eyes still shut, sobbing openly now.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I'm sorry the monster found you," she said between shaky breaths. "I tried so hard not to let it see you."
"Monster?"
A low growl echoed behind me.
Cold dread crawled up my spine. The sound was too familiar—just like the creature from my nightmares.
"You have to wake up," the girl said, standing now. "You have to wake up now."
She pressed both her tiny hands over my ears. Her eyes remained closed, yet somehow, she was looking directly at me.
The growl thundered closer.
I shut my eyes.
—
I gasped for air.
My eyes flew open. I was back in my room. Darkness pressed against the windows, and my body was drenched in sweat. I threw the covers aside, heart racing.
"Why won't this day end?" I whispered.
I needed air.
Wrapping myself in a blanket, I stepped onto the balcony connected to my room. Cold night wind rolled in from the sea, helping dry the sticky sweat clinging to my skin.
It was just a nightmare, I told myself. Nothing more than my mind breaking under the weight of the day.
I stared out at the ocean.
Then I noticed something wrong.
A massive fog bank—too large, too dense—was shifting unnaturally across the water.
I watched, uneasy.
The fog thinned.
A ship emerged.
Then another.
Then another.
A whole fleet.
My eyes darted to the banners.
My heart sank.
There was always one banner that everyone was taught to look for.
One banner that meant you didn't fight.
You ran.
Rimor was here.