“I’m glad,” Akeylah whispered, “that we decided to bury her in the same place.”

Ren was, too. Audrina never received the recognition or the position she so longed for in life. At least in death, she deserved to lie in her rightful place.

With a jerk, the carriage halted outside the Necropolis, a stone miniature of Kolonya City, made up of tombs. They rode through its wide gates, as far as the wagons would allow. Then they disembarked to continue on foot.

The sisters drew a handcart with the king’s coffin between them. Together they rolled him through the narrow corridors of the Necropolis, toward the Keep-shaped tomb where his sister waited.

By Kolonyan tradition, family must carry you to your final resting place in order for your spirit to reach the Blessed Sunlands. When they fit his casket underneath Yasmin’s, Ren said a silent prayer he would find her. Reunite with the other half of his mind.

Back outside, Ren alone marched back to the carriages. She had one more burden to bear.

Her best friend. Her worst enemy.

In the end, Audrina was both of those things and neither. Ren knew that in Aud’s own way, she’d tried to protect the throne.

Audrina had seen Ren’s and Zofi’s and Akeylah’s sins, and she’d made the same judgment call Ren did. She thought Kolonya would be better in her own hands.

Ren couldn’t blame her.

A surge of emotions struck when she accepted the handcart, laden this time with a smaller coffin. Audrina was lighter than their father. In her plywood box, she was easy to lift onto the lowest shelf of the royal tomb.

It was the least Ren could do. Carry her here. Audrina was her sister, after all—in some ways, more a sister than either Akeylah or Zofi. Before Ren had any idea who she was, Audrina had been there. A confidante, a friend.

She betrayed Ren, eventually. But first, she’d helped her.

Outside, beyond the walls of the Necropolis, the crowds sang funeral songs. Blessings to honor the deceased. Ren kissed her fingertips, laid them atop Audrina’s coffin, and prayed her sister would find the peace she’d never known in life.

Mama met Ren in the center of the Necropolis. As befitted a member of the royal family, albeit the extended one, Mama wore full mourning greens—a floor-length, wide-skirted gown and a veil nearly as long as the dress itself. It must have cost a fortune.

“I figure I’d best get use out of the tailors while they’ll still serve me,” Mama explained when Ren reached her side. She kissed Ren’s cheeks, one after the other. “Since my daughter has decided to surrender the crown that should rightfully be hers.”

“Don’t be dramatic, Mama. The tailors will still make any gown you like.”