POV: Ravenna
Two weeks after Father clears Theron, he summons me to his study with a suggestion that sounds suspiciously like a command.
"Aetherwyn," he says. "Your mother's homeland. Queen Thalassa has been sending invitations for years."
I blink. "My grandmother."
"Yes." He looks uncomfortable. Talking about Mother's family has always been difficult for him. "She's written every year since you were born. Asking to meet you. Asking you to visit." He pauses. "I always made excuses. But now—now that you've awakened your water element, your healing gift—I think it's time."
"You want me to leave Cindravale?" My stomach twists. "Now? When House Ashford is still—"
"That's part of it," Father admits. "Let political tensions cool. Let the gossip die down. Give everyone time to accept the hearing results." He meets my eyes. "And let you learn about your mother's heritage. Learn from water kingdom healers. Understand the gift she gave you."
Oh.
When he puts it like that...
"How long?" I ask.
"A month. Maybe two." He hands me a letter. "Thalassa has extended a formal invitation. She wants to meet her granddaughter. Wants to teach you about your mother's people."
I open the letter. The handwriting is elegant, flowing like water. The words are formal but underneath I sense... hunger. Grief. Desperation.
My grandmother lost her daughter twenty-one years ago and never got to know her granddaughter.
"I'll go," I say.
"Good." Father looks relieved. "Take Theron. Morgana. Saren can guide you—it's his homeland. He hasn't returned in fifteen years but he knows the routes, the customs."
"When do we leave?"
"Three days."
Three days to prepare for a journey to a kingdom I've never seen. To meet a grandmother I've never met. To learn about a mother I never knew.
No pressure.
***
We depart at dawn on horseback. Small escort—just six guards plus the four of us. Theron refuses to let me go without him, bonded mate instincts and personal stubbornness combining into immovable determination. Morgana volunteers because apparently I "need someone to keep me from doing something dramatic." Saren leads because he knows Aetherwyn better than anyone.
The first day is long. We ride south through volcanic plains that gradually give way to rolling hills. The air changes—less ash, more salt. I can smell the ocean before I see it.
That night we make camp near a river. The guards set up tents while Morgana starts a fire. I help—badly—until Theron gently takes the kindling from me and does it properly.
"I could have figured it out," I mutter.
"I know," he says. Not mocking. Just patient. "But we'd like to eat before midnight."
Morgana snorts. "She once tried to cook eggs and somehow set water on fire."
"That was ONE TIME."
"It was impressive," Morgana admits. "Scientifically improbable but impressive."
I throw a stick at her. She dodges, laughing.
Saren watches us with amusement. "You three are very different from the formal court I remember."
"Court is performative," I say. "This is real."
"Real is better," he agrees.
We eat around the fire—dried meat, bread, cheese. Simple food that tastes better than palace feasts somehow. Maybe because I'm not being watched by hundreds of nobles. Maybe because I can actually RELAX.
"Tell us about Aetherwyn," Morgana says to Saren. "What should we expect?"
Saren stares into the fire. His expression is complicated—longing and pain and something like fear.
"It's beautiful," he says finally. "Built into cliffs and harbors. Architecture that flows like frozen water. Blue dragons everywhere—their scales reflect light like ocean waves." He pauses. "The floating markets are incredible. Boats tied together forming temporary streets. You can buy anything. Fish caught that morning. Pearls from deep divers. Silks from across the channel."
"Why did you leave?" I ask quietly.
He's silent for a long moment. "My father wanted me to be a merchant like him. Expected me to take over the family business. But I wanted to be a warrior." His jaw tightens. "We fought. I left. Came to Cindravale and never went back."
"Fifteen years," Theron says. "That's a long time to stay away."
"I know." Saren looks at me. "But your father needed guards for you. And I—" He swallows. "I needed somewhere that wasn't home."
"Will your father be there?" I ask. "When we arrive?"
"Probably." His voice is carefully neutral. "He's an ambassador now. Represents Aetherwyn's merchant guilds. He'll definitely attend any formal functions."
Oh gods. This trip just got more complicated.
"What about Queen Thalassa?" Morgana asks. "What's she like?"
Saren hesitates. "I only met her once. At a distance. She's... intense. Beautiful. Cold. They say she's never recovered from losing Queen Elara. That she keeps your mother's chambers exactly as they were. Like a shrine."
Something cold slides down my spine. "That's not creepy at ALL."
"Grief does strange things to people," Theron says quietly. His hand finds mine. "She lost her daughter. Never knew her granddaughter. Now you're coming home. That's—that's huge for her."
"I'm not coming HOME," I say. "I'm VISITING. Cindravale is home."
"I know," Theron says gently. "But to her—after twenty-one years—this might feel like getting Elara back."
Oh.
Oh no.
"That's a lot of pressure," I say.
"Yes," Saren agrees. "Which is why you'll have us. To remind you that you don't owe her anything. You don't have to be Elara. You don't have to stay if you don't want to."
"Promise?" My voice comes out smaller than I want.
"Promise," Saren says firmly. Morgana and Theron nod agreement.
The fire crackles. Stars overhead. The river rushing nearby. Everything is peaceful and beautiful and I should feel relaxed.
But all I can think is: What if my grandmother sees me and I'm not enough? What if I don't measure up to the daughter she lost? What if she expects me to fill a hole I can't possibly fill?
"Stop spiraling," Morgana says. Reading my face. "You're meeting your grandmother. Learning about your mother. Training your gift. That's IT. No pressure. No expectations. Just—" she waves her hand "—family stuff."
"Family stuff," I repeat flatly.
"Okay, slightly complicated family stuff," she amends. "But still. You've survived worse."
She's right. I've survived assassination attempts, competition sabotage, dragon combat, a murder hearing, and finding out my mother was murdered by a shadow organization.
I can survive meeting my grandmother.
Probably.
"How long until we reach the coast?" I ask Saren.
"Four more days if the weather holds." He glances at the clear sky. "Should be fine."
Four days. Then a ship across the channel. Then Aetherwyn. Then everything changes. Again.
***
The next morning we pack camp and ride. The landscape continues shifting—volcanic rock giving way to lush greenery. Trees I don't recognize. Flowers in colors that don't exist in Cindravale. The air is different. Humid. Heavy with salt and growing things.
"It's beautiful," I say to Theron.
"It is," he agrees. "Different from home."
"Do you miss it? Cindravale?"
"I miss the familiar," he says. "But I'd follow you anywhere."
My heart does something complicated. "Even to a kingdom that might hate you for being fire-born?"
"Even then."
"Theron—"
"Ravenna." He looks at me. Those amber eyes serious. "You're my mate. My bonded. My—" he hesitates "—my love. Where you go, I go. End of discussion."
I should probably argue. Should probably tell him he doesn't have to put himself in danger for me. Want to maintain some kind of independence.
But I'm so tired of pretending I don't need him.
"Thank you," I say instead.
"Always," he says simply.
We ride in comfortable silence. Morgana and Saren ride ahead, arguing about something. The guards follow at respectful distance. And for the first time in months—maybe years—I feel... free.
Not trapped in the palace. Not performing for court. Not defending myself against accusations or investigations or assassination attempts.
Just... traveling. With people I trust. Toward something new.
It's terrifying and exciting and strange.
And I realize: this is what life could be. Should be. Without the constant threat. Without the political maneuvering. Without the weight of expectations crushing me.
Just me and the people I love, moving forward.
"What are you thinking?" Theron asks.
"That I like this," I admit. "The traveling. The freedom. The—" I gesture around "—being away from everything."
"We could do this more," he suggests. "After you're queen. Travel the kingdoms. Meet people. See the world beyond Cindravale."
"Together?" I ask.
"Always together," he confirms.
I smile. Real and genuine and possibly the first un-sarcastic smile I've given in weeks.
"I'd like that," I say.
And I mean it.
Four more days until we reach the coast. Four more days of this freedom.
Then Aetherwyn. Then my grandmother. Then training and learning and discovering who my mother was before Cindravale.
But for now—
For now I'm just a girl on a horse, traveling with her bonded mate and best friend, watching the landscape change and feeling like maybe, finally, things might actually be okay.
At least for a little while.