Aftershocks

The week after Voss's fall was the strangest of Elara's life.

She had spent ten years hiding in shadows, and now she walked through the palace in daylight, her Twilight nature visible for all to see. The silver-gold eyes that marked her as something new and different drew stares wherever she went. Some were fearful. Others were hopeful. Most were simply confused.

The political situation was chaos. King Aldric had emerged from his chambers for the first time in months, blinking like a man waking from a long dream. Without Voss's influence, he seemed smaller, sadder, more human. He had wept when Kaelen told him about the curse, about the Order's lies, about his mother's true death.

"I failed you," the old king had whispered, holding his son's hands. "I failed her. I let them control me because I was afraid."

"We all were," Kaelen had replied. "But we do not have to be afraid anymore."

The Order was in disarray. With Voss destroyed and their corruption exposed, many Luminaries had fled. Others had surrendered, claiming they had only followed orders. A few—the true believers—had barricaded themselves in the Basilica, refusing to accept that their god had been a lie.

Elara left them to Kaelen and Maren. She had other concerns.

Lyra had moved into the palace, installed in rooms near Elara's own. Their reunion was ongoing, complicated by a decade of separation and secrets. Lyra wanted to know everything—where Elara had been, what she had done, why she had never revealed herself.