Crush the King (Crown of Shards #3)(124)

That night, everyone gathered in the throne room to enjoy music, dancing, drinks, desserts, and more. It was a joyful occasion, and for once, everyone seemed to put their petty differences and scheming aside and just enjoy the evening. I even spotted Fullman and Diante having a somewhat amicable drink together.

Everyone was still talking, dancing, and drinking, but I wanted a moment to myself, so I grabbed a glass and a bottle of cranberry sangria from one of the servants, slipped out of the ball, and made my way outside to the royal lawn.

It was a chilly December night, and the wind brought the scent of impending snow along with it, but I welcomed the cold quiet after all the heat, noise, and commotion of the throne room. I wandered around for a bit, soaking up the silence, then headed over to the wall that cordoned off the lawn from the steep drop and jagged cliffs below. I opened the bottle, poured myself a glass of sangria, and sipped the sweet, fruity liquid.

I also pulled my sword from its scabbard and laid the blade out flat on the wall. The seven shards in the crown crest embedded in the hilt glimmered like midnight-blue stars. I traced my fingers over the symbol. With everything that had happened during the Regalia, I hadn’t had time to think of a name for my sword, as Paloma had suggested. But now that I was back home at Seven Spire, a name had finally come to me.

Evermore—the same name as the main, center bridge that led from the palace over to the city. Evermore had been the first bridge built across the river, and it had weathered the test of time, just like I had weathered all the obstacles that had threatened to overwhelm me.

“Evermore,” I whispered, testing out the name.

For a moment the crown-of-shards crest seemed to glimmer a little brighter, as though the tearstone pieces liked the name as much as I did. I took it as a good omen.

I lifted my gaze from the sword and stared out over Svalin. Across the river, lights burned throughout the city, making the gold, silver, and bronze spires on the rooftops gleam like bright metallic swords. I had always loved the view from the royal lawn at night, but never more so than this night when I knew I had finally avenged my queen, my family, and my kingdom against Maeven, Maximus, and the Mortans.

My thoughts turned to Maeven, as they so often did at quiet times like this. I wondered what she was doing. If she had returned to the Mortan capital yet. If she had secured her throne.

If anyone had tried to kill her yet.

But I had no way of knowing the answers. Besides, Maeven was a worry for tomorrow. Tonight was about me and everything that I had achieved over the past year.

I had killed a queen, protected a prince, and crushed a king.

But most of all, I had survived.

Oh, there were still plenty of threats and challenges to face. I might have blunted Maeven’s power, but she would eventually hatch a new scheme against me. And I couldn’t forget about the Fortuna Mint and why Seraphine had seemed so eager to get her hands on me.

And perhaps it was foolish, but I still hadn’t given up hope that another Blair had survived the same way I had, and that I would one day find that person, and together we would rebuild the Blair family legacy—

Something cold stung my hand, interrupting my thoughts. I looked up and realized that it had started snowing. Big, fat, fluffy flakes poured down from the night sky, quickly covering the royal lawn, falling on the city, and making the view even lovelier than before.

By morning, the snow would cover Seven Spire with a solid sheet of white, making everything seem fresh and clean and new again. Maybe that’s what being a Winter queen was really about—giving everyone a chance for a better tomorrow.

“Sleep well, Bellona,” I murmured. “Sleep well.”

I lifted my glass in a toast to my people, then stood there in the snow, sipping my sangria, and staring out over my kingdom, just as so many other Bellonan queens had before me.

Long live the Winter queen.