Chapter Seventeen · No Coin, No Crown

“If everything went as planned, Lyra should have reached Sonareth by now… Why hasn’t there been a message?”

The Queen paced the Turquias Chamber, stopping now and then by the window.

Beyond it, there was only the night sky.

“Unless something’s gone wrong…”

She closed her eyes, shook her head, and forced herself still.

“No. I can’t wait any longer.”

She turned toward the doors. They opened.

The King stepped in. Her gaze lifted at once.

“Your Majesty, have you heard anything about Lyra?”

Eryndar gave a small nod, but did not answer.

He placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Don’t worry.”

“Your Majesty…”

His hand rose to her cheek, brushing it lightly. His eyes moved over her face and lingered there.

“I have always valued what you’ve given up.”

“Your Majesty…”

Something was wrong. She studied him more closely.

He said nothing, only looked at her as if trying to hold the moment in place.

A quiet breath left him.

“If the palace ever grows too small… you should return to Sonareth.”

“What are you saying? How could I—”

He touched a finger to her lips and turned away.

“Lyra is safe. She’s in Gemariel.”

“Gemariel…” Her voice faded. “How could that be…”

She stood there, as if she had forgotten he was even present.

I told her to go to Sonareth…

“Velaria.”

He shook her gently.

“Velaria.”

She looked up. He drew her into an embrace.

“She’s grown.”

He said nothing more.

Unease stirred in her chest. Now was not the time to press him. She would understand soon enough.

She rested her head against his shoulder. Together, they looked out into the distant night.

There was so much Eryndar wanted to say, but facing her, the words weighed more than any council he had ever held.

The crescent moon above the palace was no different from the one over the Mining Town.

On a rocky rise not far from the clustered houses, a tall tower held one of the few lights still burning deep into the night.

Lyra wandered the streets, her stomach aching with hunger. Her grip on the reins had begun to slip.

Wooden houses clung to the stone on either side, stacked along the slope.

Most doors were shut. At this hour, the town seemed asleep.

Then a voice called from behind her.

“Lady, are you looking for an inn?”

The horse stopped. A young man hurried up from the dark, his clothes rumpled, his loose hair curling around his face. Something about him reminded her of Orlas.

Lyra hesitated.

“Do you know one?”

He smiled, easy and open.

“There’s one nearby. I can show you.”

She nodded. Exhaustion was catching up to her. She just needed somewhere to lie down.

For the first time since arriving, she felt a flicker of relief.

In the dim light, he took the reins, straightened the saddlebag, and led the horse down a narrow path.

A large, brightly lit inn came into view, its entrance marked by a small pond shimmering in the moonlight.

The horse came to a stop. The young man let go of the reins.

“That’s it. I’ll be going.”

He said only that, then vanished into the dark.

Lyra did not even have time to thank him.

She did not have the strength to call after him anyway.

She slid down from the saddle, unsteady on her feet, then reached for the coin pouch Obewich had hung at the side.

Her fingers searched the place where the pouch should have been.

Nothing.

She froze.

Her heart began to pound. Her hands moved quickly over the saddle.

Not here either.

The pouch was gone.

I’ve been tricked.

He took it.

Lyra went still, her throat tight.

It had been the only thing keeping her alive outside the palace.

She glanced toward the inn. No one she knew.

Her thoughts began to scatter.

How did it come to this? Her stomach twisted with hunger.

Back in Moontis Palace, she would be eating warm lamb stew.

Then sleeping beneath soft feather blankets.

But this was Gemariel.

Mother. Obewich.

What am I doing?

Should I try to make my way back to Sonareth? At least my grandfather was there.

Lyra lowered her head against the horse, gripping the saddle tight.

No. If I go back, I’ll only drag Sonareth into this.

Her brow tightened, her face close to breaking.

A deep, aching loneliness rose in her chest.

Her limbs went weak. The ground tilted beneath her.

The inn’s lights blurred into scattered sparks.

Voices drifted somewhere far away.

Then everything went dark.

The night passed without her knowing it, until the faint smell of toasted bread and smoke drifted to her.

She frowned slightly. An unfamiliar light slipped through the gap in the curtains.

Her heavy eyelids opened slowly.

A wooden ceiling.

Not Moontis Palace.

Lyra lay still for a few seconds, listening to voices drifting up from below.

Then the memories rushed back.

The street at night.

The young man with the curls.

The empty saddle.

She sat up, her hand going at once to her side.

Her sword was still there. Her fingers tightened around the hilt.

“Where’s my horse?”

The door swung open. A stout man stepped in, carrying a tray of bread.

“You’re awake? Come, have some breakfast.”

Lyra blinked, still trying to understand why she was in a bed at all.

“Where… is this?”

“Luminas Inn.”

The man smiled and stroked his curled mustache.

Lyra’s gaze dropped to the bread. Her stomach growled.

Would he give it to her for free?

Her hand moved to her stomach.

“But… I’ve been robbed. I don’t have any money.”

“That’s all right.” The innkeeper waved a hand. “Happens all the time here.”

He set the tray down.

“Gemariel’s a place to make coin.”

He pushed the plate toward her.

“Eat. Work the mines a few days. Bring me the money later.”

He paused.

“And buy back your horse.”

What?

He has my horse.

So that was it. Not kindness.

That horse was worth a year of food and lodging.

He didn’t even ask me.

Then again, out here, she could no longer live as a princess.

If she told him who she was, he might hand her over to the palace.

For a brief moment, Lyra understood.

This world was not gentle.

Everything would have to start again, with her own two hands. No one left to shield her.

Her hands trembled slightly, but she wasn’t afraid.

First, learn how to survive. Everything else could wait.

She reached for a loaf, took a bite, and chewed slowly to quiet the hunger.

Then she asked.

“Where are the mines?”