Keryth grabs my elbow when I move to obey. He gives me a doubtful look. I don’t blame him for being worried, but if I have a chance to hear my father’s last words, I’m going to take it. Maybe he’s having a moment of clarity at the end of his life.

Besides, he can’t hurt me anymore. His strength is draining by the second.

My drenched dress gets even more dirty than it already is when my knees sink into the sand. I’m not sure what to do with my hands. I reach out to touch Father, but it might hurt him. So I settle for clasping them in my lap.

The heaviness of the tragedy sucks the temper out of me, and the fire dissipates from the sky. It starts to rain, and the cool drops wet my hair and my arms. Hopefully, they also put out the forest fire.

Fog floats low to the ground, and I’m not sure if it’s waterfall mist or smoke. Maybe both.

Letting out a gurgling cough, Father crooks a finger at me to lean forward.

When I get close enough, he yanks the crown off my head, taking a few of my hairs with it. “This doesn’t belong to you.”

Shocked, I grab for it, but he moves it out of reach. “It does. Mother gave it to me.”

“You’ll never be her. You’re not worthy of this crown.”

Ouch. I was wrong. He can still hurt me, and he did.

Tossing my most prized possession into the forest, he laughs maniacally. I cry out when several vines wrap around it, pulling it away until it disappears into some thick bushes.

“Mother would hate the way you are now,” I seethe down at my father.

Brief emotion flashes in his eyes at the mention of his soul mate. Yearning? Remorse?

I know he doesn’t really mean the cruel things he’s saying and doing. The father that raised me loved his children.

But he’s an empty shell.

Keryth pulls me up. “We must go.”

“My crown…” I gaze longingly at the wilderness.

“I’ll get you another one. The most beautiful crown in all of Valora.”

As nice as the promise is, it wouldn’t be the same. It wasn’t the aesthetics or the value that made it special.

“You better leave now, unless you want to see a beheading.” Zarid unsheathes his sword and does a practice swing.

At least he’s going to end our father’s misery. For that, I thank him before letting Keryth take me to the sky.

The last thing I hear as we fly away is my father requesting, “Bury me next to Lynea.”

CHAPTER 10

Keryth

My poor mate.