POV Selene
We rode hard for three days through forests I half remembered and across plains that seemed both familiar and foreign. Casimir set a punishing pace. Every hour delayed was an hour Ari grew weaker, blood factors declining with mathematical certainty.
I kept up though my thighs ached and exhaustion pulled at me like weighted chains. But I gritted my teeth and endured. I had survived worse.
Casimir's men set up tents with military efficiency, posted watches against threats both animal and human. I would wake to find him studying maps and ancient texts by firelight, eyes red and face drawn.
On the third night I found him alone, staring at the mountains now visible in the distance.
"Second thoughts?" I asked, sitting beside him on the log he had claimed.
"Constant thoughts." "What if this is madness? What if I'm chasing fantasies built on legends while our son dies in the palace?"
"What if you're not?" I leaned against his shoulder. "What if the legends are true? What if we save him?"
"It's all we have."
"I keep thinking about Ari's face when we said goodbye. So trusting. So certain we would come back with the cure."
"Then we make sure we do."
We reached the Lysaran border at midday on the fourth day. "State your business," the captain demanded, hand on his sword hilt.
Before Casimir could speak, I urged my horse forward. "I am Princess Selene Ardent. This is King Casimir of Vespera. We seek audience with King Aldous."
"Princess Selene? But you were exiled by royal decree—"
"The exile has been lifted. Or didn't you receive word?" I let authority I had forgotten I possessed color my voice. "I am to be Queen of Vespera. Now let us pass."
Then he bowed. "My apologies, Your Highness. You may pass. The palace is half a day's ride north."
As we rode through familiar lands, I felt strange displacement. This had been home once. These forests where I played as a child, climbing trees my mother said were unladylike. These fields I rode through on my first horse. Now it felt foreign, belonging to someone else's memories.
We crested a hill and there it stood. The palace of Lysara. White stone with green-tiled roofs, surrounded by gardens my mother had designed.
My parents had died in that palace. My uncle had murdered them there—poison in wine, made to look like fever—and claimed the throne while I was away in Vespera at the Night of Silent Lanterns.
"Are you all right?" Casimir asked quietly, reading my face.
"No. But I will be."
We were announced at the palace gates. Servants scrambled, not expecting royal visitors. Courtiers whispered behind hands. Selene and Casimir were led through corridors I remembered from childhood, but everything had changed. My mother's tapestries depicting Lysaran legends were gone, replaced with my uncle's hunting trophies. Stag heads and boar tusks mounted like prizes.
The throne room doors opened. King Aldous Ardent sat on the green throne that had been my father's. He was fifty now, running to fat around his middle, with cold eyes and a mean mouth that had smiled when he exiled me.
Beside him stood a woman in expensive silks. His wife, Queen Maren, who had encouraged the exile. And behind them, a boy of perhaps twelve with Aldous's weak chin. Their son, Prince Torin, heir to the throne my father should have passed to me.
I entered alone. Casimir waited outside with his men. A strategic choice we had discussed. Let me face this first.
"Uncle," I said without bothering to bow.
"Selene." Aldous looked me over with undisguised distaste. "I heard you had found yourself a protector. A king, no less. Quite the recovery from disgrace and exile."
"I was never disgraced. I was exiled for refusing to abort my child as the Council demanded."
"Same thing in my view." He waved dismissively, rings catching light. "What brings you crawling back after six years? Need more money? Another handout?"
Anger flared hot in my chest. But I controlled it with years of practice. "I need passage through Cloudmount. For King Casimir and his men."
"Cloudmount? Whatever for? Those peaks are deadly, cursed according to local superstition."
"That's our business and our risk."
"Not when it's my territory." He leaned forward, enjoying his power. "You show up after six years of silence, demand access to the most dangerous peaks in the kingdom, and expect me to simply agree out of familial obligation?"
"I expect you to remember we are family, whatever else has passed between us."
He laughed, harsh and ugly. "Family? You're the daughter of the brother who would have kept me from the throne I deserved. The niece whose very existence reminded everyone daily of what I took. Family means nothing when power is at stake."
Queen Maren spoke up, voice sharp as broken glass. "His Majesty has been generous enough not to have you arrested for trespassing on royal land. Don't push your luck, girl."
Before I could respond with words I would regret, the doors opened. Casimir entered flanked by two of his largest guards, men who looked like they could break stone with their hands.
Casimir walked forward with absolute authority, every inch a king who commanded armies and respect. When he looked at Aldous, there was cold contempt that made my uncle shift in his throne.
"King Aldous." His voice could have frozen wine in goblets. "I am Casimir Ruvan of Vespera. Your neighbor. Your ally by treaty signed in your second year of rule." He paused deliberately. "And the man who could crush your kingdom without raising his voice or drawing his sword."
"Princess Selene is my son's mother. My future queen. And she will be addressed with the respect that station demands." Casimir's tone allowed no argument, no negotiation. "Do we understand each other perfectly?"
Aldous's face flushed red, then pale. "Your Majesty. Of course. I meant no disrespect to your lady—"
"You meant exactly the disrespect you showed. But we'll move past it for practical reasons." Casimir sat without being invited in a chair positioned near the throne. An insult and assertion of dominance that made courtiers gasp. "Now. About Cloudmount and our need for passage."
"What does Your Majesty need from those cursed mountains?" Aldous asked, trying to regain composure.
"That's confidential military business."
Aldous's eyes lit up with the greed I remembered from childhood. He always needed money, always overspent. "How generously?"
They negotiated. Casimir offered trade concessions that would benefit Lysara's merchants, tax relief on cross-border goods, and a substantial sum of gold delivered within the month. Aldous agreed readily, especially when Casimir mentioned the benefits of having Vespera's military support should border disputes arise.
"You'll have your access," Aldous said, practically rubbing his hands together. "I'll provide my best guides and whatever supplies you require."
"Excellent." Casimir stood as if dismissing himself. "We'll need accommodations for a few days while we prepare the ascent and gather intelligence. I trust you can provide suitable rooms for myself and Princess Selene?"
"Of course, Your Majesty. The best chambers in the palace."
As servants led us through corridors, I caught my uncle staring at me with cold calculation. He was already wondering how to use this situation to his advantage, how to extract more from Casimir's need.
That evening, servants showed us to our chambers with elaborate bowing. I walked through the door and stopped.
These were my old rooms. My childhood bedroom with the window seat where I used to read. The walls where my mother's paintings had hung. The floor where I had played with wooden toys my father carved.
Someone—my uncle, certainly—had put me here deliberately. To remind me of what I lost. To make me feel small and powerless.
I stood in the center of the room surrounded by ghosts of who I used to be. A princess who believed the world was good. A daughter who trusted her family. A girl who thought love conquered everything.
I realized standing there that I needed to confront my past before I could move forward. Before I could climb that mountain and save my son, I needed to face what my uncle had taken from me.
The room felt like a test. And I refused to fail it.