Camelot's Crow | ✓ [BOOK 3]

~ 49 ~

HOME NO LONGER FELT like home to the Summer Princess. The people were dancing once again, singing songs of the sun and causing meaningless mischief in both their own world and the other. Trees grew tall and green and music rang through the town square, just as it did long ago. But everything Namyra once longed for now felt too foreign, too empty. She had duties at home, though, and Morgana had insisted she take a break to visit her family.

Her family felt like strangers to her now. There was no light in her father's ancient eyes, and her mother looked as fragile as the shell of an egg, threatening to crack the moment she felt too much of anything. The only one with any feeling anymore was her younger sister, Elvyra, but even she looked as though her youth had been sucked dry.

"I'm sorry I haven't been here," Namyra told her over dinner. She spoke as though their parents weren't there. They were still enough, she could pretend that much was true if she tried. "I never even checked on you. How have you been managing?"

Her sister's eyes told her everything she needed to know. She looked at her dinner as though it was something to mourn over, too. "You did what you had to. I'm managing the kingdom well, but I have lost all energy in trying to bring them back to who they were."

"They're so old," Namyra said. "I don't think there's a point. Just focus on our people. If they turn to dust, we will mourn them, but to me, they are already dead."

There came no response from the King and Queen, not even a reaction. They were bodies barely clinging to their heartbeats and nothing more. Titania ravaged them, and Namyra didn't think she'd ever be able to find peace about that, no matter how much she wanted to. They were already old, but now they looked as ancient as the earth itself.

Silence had befallen the room, but Namyra broke it again after several moments of consideration. "Can I ask something of you?"

Elvyra shrugged. "If you'd like."

"If something happened to me, and you became the heir to the throne, would you be able to do it?"

"Namyra, why are you asking this? Is something wrong?" Elvyra's urgency was enough to cause their father to glance upwards, but he continued to say nothing and returned to picking at his food.

"El, just answer the question, please," Namyra said with an exasperated voice.

She frowned. "I suppose I could. Really, though, why are you asking this? Are you in danger?"

"No," she replied. "I'm not in danger. I just... want to be sure."

Elvyra glared at her. "Fine. But if you ever are, you need to tell me. You're all I have left."

Namyra gave a sad smile. Truthfully, she wanted to continue her work at the palace. She didn't like the idea of Morgana handling the kingdom alone, especially when he couldn't possibly care as much as she did. He didn't know how, and he didn't have her passion for it. The crown would never choose her, but she wanted to serve her people as best she could.

But she also didn't want to leave Elvyra with the burden of the Summer Court if it wasn't something she could handle on her own. However, the younger princess seemed confident enough in herself, she'd kept the kingdom together this long, after all. Namyra thought that maybe, she would be alright in the end.

Their conversation was cut short by a messenger, who stood awkwardly next to Namyra with a letter. "It's for you," he said. "It's rather urgent."

Namyra knew the moment she saw the black wax seal just who'd sent the letter. She only knew one faery who would even consider black. She popped open the envelope, pulling the letter from within it. There were only two sentences, written in the center of the page and signed just beneath it.