Princess of Souls, page 33
My shoulders loosen, the weight of the world sliding gratefully from them.
“Now what do we do?” I ask. “No more enemies to fight.”
“There are enemies everywhere,” Lucian says.
Spoken like a true warrior.
“But that will come later. For now, it’s time we begin,” he says.
Selestra groans. “I thought we just ended.”
“We must begin the new order,” Lucian clarifies.
Selestra’s gaze cuts to him, a hard line casting across her brows. “We don’t want to give any orders,” she tells him. “The time for that is done.”
“A new world order,” Lucian corrects her.
He casts a hand across the beach and to the soldiers who eye us tentatively, waiting for proclamations or commands. Now that both of their leaders are dead, they’re looking to us like we have any kind of certainty.
Lucian steps forward and clears his throat.
“Lucian—” Selestra begins, but he breathes in sharply, ready to address the crowd of Polemistés warriors and Last Army soldiers.
They watch him eagerly, waiting to hear the new plan for their futures with wild impatience.
For so long things have been uncertain, caught on the cusp of war, but now the threat of peace hangs and not a one of them seems to know what to do with it.
“Bow,” Lucian calls out to them. To old enemies and allies both.
Selestra takes in a heavy breath and her eyes widen, like she senses exactly what’s coming.
“Bow to your new queen of the Six Isles, Selestra Somniatis.”
And they all do.
50
SELESTRA
Most of the bodies are lit on hastily built funeral pyres that line the southern shores of the island, by the sea battalion. It seems the most fitting for fallen soldiers, but the warriors of Polemistés prefer to be buried unburned, with their armor and their swords intact, and so the island is split.
Still, I make sure each and every soldier, no matter their birthplace, is given the same respect in the afterlife so they might find their River of Memory.
Each and every one of them is buried as an equal.
My mother’s funeral is the only one that differs in custom. I lay her on a raft of daisies and forget-me-nots, her hands threaded together.
Lucian said that used to be the custom for witches in Thavma.
I think my mother would like it.
I think it will give her some kind of peace.
I cry as she’s lowered into the earth and the soil cascades over her face like a current of fresh water. I’m not sure if it’s for my mother or for me. For the last witch of the Six Isles.
I cry for days, eyes red and swollen, and it’s only when Irenya reminds me of my mother’s stories about Asclepina and the afterlife that waits for all witches, where Eldara is probably waiting too, that my tears still.
If those stories are true, then I hope our goddess welcomes my mother with open arms and that she finds forgiveness in her.
As for Seryth, forgiveness isn’t an option.
His body is thrown to the water, far out in the depths of the Endless Sea, where it sinks straight to the bottom in a heap of nothingness. To be forgotten and lost to the wilds.
“All set?” Nox asks.
I nod as Lucian loads the last of our cases aboard Leo’s butterfly.
We were offered a ship to make our way back to Vasiliádes, with Micah’s body and the bodies of any Last Army soldiers who had family back home. But the butterfly brought us here and I think it’s only right it’s what carries us back across the Endless Sea.
It’s the only thing I trust for this journey.
“Is no a good answer?” I say to Nox. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for all that’s to come.”
I was relieved when most of the Last Army that we captured from Seryth’s attacking fleets agreed to join us willingly, grateful for the killing to finally be over and to not have to be snatched away to war for a wicked king. But not all of them were willing.
Nearly eighty refused to lay down their swords and had to be torn from the ships by force and held in the cells beside the warriors’ training grounds.
I know it’s the way it must be and that it will take people time to shift their loyalties, but still I feel a pang of guilt. A worry that they’re going to start thinking I’m just like Seryth. Just like who my mother became for him.
I fear that when we set sail for Vasiliádes, the soldiers who remained there will feel the same, turning their backs on me, but I know with time I can convince them. It’s part of the reason we’re going back. I want them to know that when we promised a new world, we meant it.
We’re heading to Vasiliádes, not just to return the dead, but to let them know what happened here and to show them my face, no longer locked behind the castle doors. With an entire fleet of Polemistés warriors coming with us, I’m anticipating it being quite the surprise when they learn that their king is dead and a new world is on the horizon.
A new queen.
“Don’t look so worried,” Nox says. “They need a new leader and you’re a lot prettier than the last one.”
“I’m not their leader yet,” I remind him, ignoring that last part. “I haven’t even been coronated and—”
“Relax, princess,” Nox says, his voice soothing my worries a little. “It’s going to be fine.”
“You say that now, but we still have to lead an army, prepare a bunch of stubborn warriors, and persuade some even more stubborn soldiers,” I remind him. “We have to motivate them to want to join hands when they’ve been at war for centuries and unite six islands under magic, when they’ve always been taught to fear witches.”
“Not to mention letting them know there’s no more Festival,” Nox says, pondering this with a frown. “People are going to hate not having an excuse to drink until the early hours of the morning.”
I scowl. “You’re not helping.”
Nox laughs and presses his hand over the top of mine. “I believe in you,” he says, and I know he means it.
Perhaps more than anyone else, Nox has faith that I can unite our world.
“People want change,” he promises me. “They want freedom from tyranny and to live their lives knowing they don’t have to sacrifice their souls so they can wish for medicine for their children, or enough gold to feed themselves for a little longer. You won’t hold their health and their lives to ransom. You’ll rule with kindness,” he says. “And I’ll be right by your side the whole time.”
“Promise?”
Nox squeezes my hand, the feel of his skin warm and rough on mine. I don’t have to ache for it any longer: not just Nox’s touch, but the feel of a hug from Irenya or a clap on the back from Lucian. I can reach out a hand for the world, without worry.
I still have my visions, but they’re easier to command now. I know my powers and I will control them instead of letting them control me.
My magic doesn’t make me scared anymore. It makes me fearless.
“We’ll do this together,” Nox says.
“Together,” I repeat.
It’s all I need.
With Nox by my side and the trust of the greatest warriors in the Six Isles, I feel strong and supported. I don’t doubt myself or let my past plague me with guilt any longer. I know that what I was isn’t important anymore, it’s what I am and what I will do that matters.
Like Nox said, we can’t change the past, but together we can change the future. We can forge a new world, filled with peace and hope, with magic and wonder.
So that’s just what we do. Together.
51
SELESTRA
Epilogue
“Souls, Selestra, are you ever going to learn to keep still?” Irenya asks.
A pair of scissors are clenched between her teeth as she adjusts the fabric of my dress, trimming the ribbons that flow down my bare back.
“I thought escaping the castle meant I escaped your dress fittings,” I say.
“You should be so lucky.”
“Can’t I fire you?” I ask.
“No,” she says simply, stepping back to admire her handiwork.
“I’m pretty sure I have the power.”
Irenya snorts and puts the scissors down on the small side table. “Not even you are that powerful,” she says.
I let out a laugh and look in the mirror at the dress she’s created.
Irenya has truly found her calling these last few months in Polemistés, creating the most wonderful gowns I could imagine. After seeing her designs paraded around on me, she has a waiting list of future clients over a mile long and it’s easy to see why.
For tonight’s celebrations she has created a masterpiece.
The gown is a pale lavender, embroidered with gold and silver falling leaves and flower petals. They dance down the corset and onto the sweeping train of the skirt, fitted with pockets deep enough to hold at least two daggers each. Then there are the soft ribbons, which tie at my shoulder and cascade down my arms and over the lines of my back. I can tell she drew inspiration from the rainbow of colors we saw in Armonía.
And unlike the gowns I was forced to wear back in Vasiliádes, I can actually breathe in this one.
“How is it?” Irenya asks, fanning out the skirt. “Does it look okay? Do you feel okay? Do you think the light hits it just right on the embroidery?”
She peppers me with enough questions that I nearly fall off the small square platform.
“Irenya, it’s beautiful,” I assure her. “Why do you sound so nervous?”
“It’s a big day,” she says. “What if you fall on the train? Trip, right in front of everyone.”
“Thank you for putting that thought inside my mind.”
Irenya grins and throws herself onto the plush yellow sofa at the corner of the small dressing room. “It would be interesting at least,” she says, face relaxing. “Something to brighten up the event.”
“Are you saying it’s going to be dull?” a voice asks from the doorway. “Don’t tell me I came all this way for a bad party.”
Nox leans nonchalantly against the doorframe, his arms crossed against his broad chest. My heart races at the sight of him. It’s been only hours since we last saw each other, but I’ve missed him more than I care to admit.
He adjusts his uniform as he straightens, the perfect blend of a Last Army soldier and a Polemistés warrior. It was Irenya’s idea to create something new from the pieces of old, uniting the factions of our islands under one uniform.
It’s the perfect outfit for today’s celebrations, marking the official union of our people.
“You’re late,” I say, but I can’t help but grin at him.
“Looks like you’re the one who’s late,” Nox says, walking across the room to meet me. “At least I’m dressed.”
He takes my hand, helping me step from the platform. The feel of his fingers laced in mine, without the barrier of my gloves, still feels strange and new, tingling across my skin.
Nox presses his lips to mine, soft and tender, but I can feel his ache for more in the way he lingers against me. It mirrors my own desire.
“You look beautiful,” he says.
“Thank you,” I say, at the same time Irenya says, “You’re welcome.”
I turn to laugh at her. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Actually yes.” She gathers up her bag. “I have to go and find my date for tonight.”
I raise my brows, surprised. “You have a date?”
Irenya nods. “With that rather fetching new guard you have.”
She wriggles her eyebrows.
“Does she know what she’s in for, dating you?” Nox asks.
Irenya tosses a pillow at him and I laugh, about to step in between them when someone clears their throat.
“It’s time, Majesty,” Lucian says, appearing at the doorway in a blink.
I swear sometimes that man is like a ghost.
“Really, Lucian,” I say, somewhat scolding. “I’ve told you not to call me that.”
He bows in response and I shake my head.
After healing from his wounds, Lucian has taken over my training these last few months, and as one of the five reigning Polemistés champions, he’s a worthy teacher. He’ll never be a replacement for Asden, but I think my old mentor would have approved.
“You’re not so formal when you’re punching me in the face,” I say to Lucian now.
“This is a big day, Majesty,” Lucian says. His head stays bowed. “We must afford it the proper ceremony.”
He’s right.
Not just about the coronation, but our true plans for the future. Seryth stole a lot from the Six Isles, but most of all he stole their identity and their customs. We want to bring those back. To restore Vasiliádes, Armonía, Nekrós, Flóga, and even Thavma.
And now that the Endless Sea is no longer cursed into a boundary, we’ll send expeditions to find whatever other kingdoms may be out there, waiting for us to join them.
We will spark magic and exploration back into the world.
I now know that if you think something is meant to be, then you have to find a way to make it happen. Destiny doesn’t come to you.
You have to take it. Demand it. I plan to do just that.
“Ready, princess?” Nox asks.
I press my lips tightly together to mask my nervous heart.
“That’s queen to you,” I say.
Nox takes my hand and all the nerves slip quickly away with his warmth. “My queen,” he says.
I smile at him.
Then the doors open and together we walk through.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Writing a book always feels like the hardest thing in the world. No matter how many times you do it, how many tricks and tips, or how much wisdom (hah) you seem to gain, it never really gets easier. There are always sleepless nights, coffee-ridden and backaching as you hunch over your laptop, and there are times when you’re sure nobody has ever written as many plot holes as you have before.
And yet there is also something else in the midst of it all: a world of fun. There is laughter and camaraderie and endless excitement.
Writing a book is hard, but it is made so much easier, so much more joyous, by all the people who help make it possible. My support systems: My friends, my family, my publishing teams who work so tirelessly, and you readers who continue to have faith in my stories and fall in love with my characters and the worlds they adventure through. Every person who leaves a wonderful review, or sends a kind message, or posts a beautiful picture of my books. You make this journey so incredible.
So thank you to my team at Feiwel & Friends, who always have my corner and whose passion and love for my stories is more than I could ever ask for. To Holly West, the most phenomenal editor who always knows exactly what story I’m trying to tell and how to get there. To Kat Kopit and Kelley Frodel and Jessica White for being my eagle eyes. To Dillon West and all the other readers who helped perfect this book. To Morgan Rath, who is hands down the greatest publicist in the world. To Celeste Cass, Liz Dresner, Teresa Ferraiolo, Brittany Pearlman, and of course Jean Feiwel and everyone else at Feiwel & Friends/Macmillan Children’s who have supported and helped me, not just on this book but on all my others. You are the most wonderful team and I am so grateful.
Thank you also to Goñi Montes and Aurora Parlagreco for the most magical cover I have ever seen. It’s surreal. You truly brought Selestra and Nox to life!
Thank you to my agent, Emmanuelle Morgen, and the team at Stonesong, as well as Whitney Lee, for championing this story, as always, and helping to bring it to as many corners of the world as possible. You guys rock.
Thank you to BookTok and Bookstagram and all the bloggers out there who continue to blow me away with your passion and ability to keep my stories alive and help find new readers, even years later! What an awesome community.
To my wonderful friends in and out of the publishing world, who have been my shoulders to cry on and my biggest supporters, reading my stories from their very first iterations and screaming from the rooftops with support. Thank you to Sarah Glenn Marsh, N.J. Simmonds, and Tricia Levenseller for being magical CPs.
Of course, I also have to thank my family for being so supportive and getting excited whenever I have a new book out. Plus, they bear with me when I attempt to explain the plot and end up rambling for an hour. And especially to Nick, for always believing in me, and for also believing I’ll eventually name a character after him. Dream big!
To Daniel, for being my guiding light and making so many of my dreams come true. I love the life we’ve built together and could not imagine being a little weirdo with anyone else. Thank you for making me smile every day of our lives.
And, as always, lastly but never least: Thank you to you. To all the readers and adventurers who found Selestra and Nox’s story. Writing Princess of Souls felt a bit like coming home, returning to a world of fairy tales, with a princess determined to fight for her own destiny in the face of the destiny others have carved out for her. I hope this book made you smile and brought as much fun into your lives as you have all brought into mine.
Thank you for reading this Feiwel & Friends book. The friends who made Princess of Souls possible are:
Jean Feiwel, Publisher
Liz Szabla, Associate Publisher
Rich Deas, Senior Creative Director
Holly West, Senior Editor
Anna Roberto, Senior Editor
Kat Brzozowski, Senior Editor
Dawn Ryan, Executive Managing Editor
Celeste Cass, Production Manager
Emily Settle, Editor
Erin Siu, Associate Editor
Foyinsi Adegbonmire, Associate Editor
Rachel Diebel, Associate Editor
Liz Dresner, Associate Art Director
Aurora Parlagreco, Associate Art Director
