It had been barely a few moments since Evonia had passed. It was the strangest feeling to not have her guiding presence in my life. I had always thought that when I would finally have a piece of my rightful destiny that I would feel some sort of righteousness or empowerment, but that had yet to manifest. There was only an empty numbness for the person I had adopted as my new mother. I knew in my heart that when I heard of my true mother and father's deaths, I would not feel a fraction of what I did for Evonia.

  My grandmother had never stroked my hair when I was low or wrapped me in a warm embrace when I felt like I was never going to succeed, but that was not her way, nor mine. Her love did not require physical touch nor soft words, her actions showed how much she cared for me. She took me in, fed me, trained me, and handed over the future of our family line without ever wavering in her confidence in me. No matter how badly I fumbled in my training or it seemed like I might never become as powerful as her, she did not bat an eye and simply waved away the notion that I was anyone but the perfect choice for her heir.

  I had been by her side as she faded, it was a surreal experience to see someone who looked still like she could be my older sister fighting to hold onto life. It wasn't until her strength had finally waned that her true image was revealed to be a frail, white-haired old woman. I had looked away quickly to help preserve her vanity in her final moments until Mari could lend some of her own power to rekindle the glamour.

  As shocking as it had been to see her true form, part of me wished I had known the true image of her. She had looked wise and knowing, someone who had lived and aged well. I felt that she had earned her wrinkles and white hairs and they had not diminished her beauty but only changed it to be something a bit different.

  Perhaps it would have been easier for me if she had dropped her glamour, at least when the end was nearing. I had a hard time accepting that someone who had looked barely old enough to be my mother was dead, never to be by my side again. Seeing her as she truly was would have at least made some of it seem more natural. Though I supposed it probably made her feel better knowing she was frozen in time at what she considered her most beautiful. What she wanted justifiably surpassed my own wishes.

  “It is what she wanted, you know,” Mari said gently as we stood outside the bedchamber just after Evonia had taken her last breath. “She died knowing that you were here to take her place and continue with her mission. You gave her hope and security that you would continue on the Yser name with pride and dignity.”

  I gave a short nod of acceptance. I was afraid to open my mouth lest my emotions got the better of me. It felt like I should honor her by keeping up the strong leader aesthetic when not in private. There were servants waiting, heads bowed, to take care of whatever needed to be done to wash and prepare the body. I could not let them see me break my stoic expression, even as my heart was being ripped in two. Mari seemed to catch on and gave her own knowing nod.

  “How about I get a servant to bring us a couple of drinks and we'll discuss where to go from here in my bedroom?” she suggested. “A bit of privacy to talk and reflect may do us both some good.”

  I indicated my agreement and she let out the shrill whistle between her teeth that she used to call a servant to her. She ordered two jugs of the hard cider from last season to be brought to her room and we made our way to her chambers.

  Jugs in hand with the door closed to the outside world, I felt my face fall into a look of defeat. Evonia had been one of the only two people I truly trusted and felt truly loved me in return. It clawed at the back of my mind that Mari and Evonia were sisters fairly close in age, so it may not be long until I lost Mari as well.

  “You're thinking about my death,” Mari said suddenly with a wane smile. “I can see the distress and worry on your face. You look at me like I am already a ghost.”

  “Yes,” I admitted. It would have been useless to deny it, Mari could catch anyone in a lie. “How could I not?”

  She drew in a deep breath, then let it out as a sigh. Her eyes began to rim with tears. “I have to admit that I've been thinking about it too.” She let a halfhearted laugh escape her lips. “Kind of hard not to when your sister dies and she’s not much older. I feel like the cold hand of death will start to close around my own neck at any point.”

  I frowned and put my cup of cider down to rise and settle into the couch next to Mari. We had not been overly physically affectionate throughout the years, but she had saved me and given me everything. I wrapped an arm around her and gently squeezed. The gesture seemed to bring a real laugh to Mari's mouth and she shook her head a bit.

  “Here we are, the mistresses of darkness and we both need a cuddle,” she said softly. “If this gets out to the servants, they’ll never take us seriously again.”

  “Don't worry, I wouldn't dare tell anyone,” I joked gently as I leaned my head against hers.

  “I would kill you if you did,” she laughed, but it was airy and distant. “I do have an image to uphold after all.”

  “You would kill your new queen?” I asked, acting falsely taken aback.

  “You're not queen until Rafe performs the coronation,” she reminded. “For now, my queen still lies on her deathbed.”

  We went silent except for the sound of our sipping on the cider. It was difficult to know what to do or say from here. There was much we needed to do like arrange for a funeral and a coronation, but in the wee hours after a fresh death there was never motivation to do anything but sit and try to process how different life suddenly was.

  We had lost a person who tied us together, grounded us in the path forward. Now we were on a ship without a captain and the sails would take us where they may until I gathered the strength and capacity to take command. While I had been waiting and looking forward to taking over, now that it had happened I wanted to go back. At least for a while, until I could figure out how to be truly prepared and not feel so blindsided and lost.

  By morning, we had gone through what had to have been a sizable chunk of the cider stores. Mari had called for restocks of the cider a few times during the night and I saw no reason to stop her. It was probably for the best, because upon waking still slouched across the couch, I felt like I had slept deeply. Mari had dragged herself to her own bed at some point, though had never bothered to lift the covers to crawl underneath.

  While trying to orient myself and remove the crust from my puffy, swollen eyes I found myself watching her sleeping form and wondering just how she managed to keep up her glamour, even while unconscious. I was quite proficient in my magic, but I couldn’t fathom how to keep the conduits open and humming while not conscious. I supposed that she did have several decades of practice on me and perhaps that was just a plateau of magical understanding that I would have to reach, but it was also equally as likely she had found some trick. Later, when it was a better time, I would have to remember to ask.

  Opening the door to return to my own room, I nearly ran into a servant who had been working up the courage to knock on the door.

  “Oh, sorry Mistress,” she stammered, “but there is someone from the House Drak here to meet with you.”

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  My mind snapped to attention. They very rarely made the trip over, it seemed that they tended not to care much for the human world. Of course, they had arrived on a morning where I had slept in my clothes from the night before and was still disoriented from a night of careless drinking.

  “Please have them meet me in the grand sitting room,” I barely uttered out before speed-walking towards my room. I had no idea where they were in the castle currently and I desperately hoped that I wouldn't run into them on my way to look at least half-decent.

  Tearing apart my room for an appropriate outfit, I quickly realized that I would need a new, queenly wardrobe. I seemed to have dozens of pairs of training robes and basic outfits, but I needed to make an impression. I let out an exasperated cry as I tossed all the rejects onto my bed, cursing that I hadn't thought to have at least one worthy outfit for my first day as a monarch.

  Taking a deep breath in to calm my frustration, I looked over all the boring outfits and tried to formulate a plan. The obvious idea was to use magic to enhance or change some of the clothing, but unlike my grandmother and aunt, shape-shifting did not seem to be my strong suit. I could manage it, but it took a toll on me. There really wasn't anything else to be done, I would just have to hope that the meeting would be relatively brief.

  Grounding myself, I felt the magical energy flow through my feet and up to my hands. The hairs on my neck prickled in pleasure from the feeling of the power coursing through me. I willed a magnificent, monarchy-worthy outfit to take the place of one of the training tunics. I gave the magic no specific instruction, only intent, so it was a surprise when it began to manifest before me. The tunic had become a strapless, black silk dress that flowed like ripples of water to the ground. Holes had been cut out on either side of the torso, leaving only a teasingly tiny strip of fabric that would cover my belly button. It certainly would be a risky outfit for the kind of kingdom I had been born into, but I had a feeling that it would have done Evonia proud.

  Slipping on the garment, it just felt right. I would never be the kind of queen with elaborate ball gowns and jewels down to her knees. It always seemed like such complex outfits covered up insecurities about the extent of their power. In my mind, a truly powerful person did not need to warn or convince others of their power, the reputation should precede you.

  The member of the House of Drak waiting on me was not who I imagined. All of the House members I had met before had been demons wearing obvious glamours, this woman exuded power, but seemed to naturally look humanoid.

  “Greetings Lady Toria,” she said with a melodic and distinctly demonic accent. “I had hoped to meet you in better circumstances, but it is a pleasure all the same.”

  She was absolutely captivating. While human, her skin was the color of rich caramel that seemed to have almost a hint of a metallic sheen. Her eyes were dark enough to be mistaken for completely black and her ashen hair had been plaited in an overly complex pattern that stretched nearly to her knees. I felt myself stricken by her appearance, more so than any beautiful glamour I had seen before. Perhaps it was the fact that her looks appeared to be natural.

  “Greetings Lady...”

  “Mistra,” she replied and outstretched her hand.

  I clasp her hand gently with my own, my heart skipping a beat as our skin touched. It was always like an electric shock touching anyone demonic, like their magical presence recoiled slightly at the idea of connecting to a human. Her touch was not unpleasant, fainter with less of the sharp snap. Perhaps she was not quite as powerful as the rest of her family or she was doing something to intentionally dampen her magical aura.

  “I am so very sorry to hear about your grandmother,” she said sincerely, “she was well loved by our kingdom as well. My heart sank to hear the news. It felt like her presence would be eternal.”

  “Thank you, she will be sorely missed. Especially by Mari and myself,” I replied.

  She nodded understandingly. It was strange to be speaking with someone I knew to be a Drak while also feeling like their emotions and expressions were genuine. Typically the demons did nothing to try to mask that they were only going through the motions of displaying emotion, usually the opposite of how they truly felt.

  “Pardon if this seems out of turn,” I began, “but you do not seem like the others in your family.”

  She laughed lightly and nodded in agreement.

  “I am certainly not quite like the rest of the Draks, that is true. I am only half-demon. My mother was a human, thus I am less cold and calculating and more... well... human.”

  “I had no idea that the two could interbreed,” I said in shock. The idea that it was possibly seemed extremely far-fetched, almost as fantastic as the idea of a lion and a zebra.

  “I don't believe that my father thought it possible either. To say the very least, I was a bit of a surprise,” she said with a light laugh.

  “It must be amazing to be something so rare and exotic,” I complimented. At least it was meant to be a compliment, though as soon as it left my mouth I regretted saying it.

  “Exotic? Usually that word only is used on me when someone finds me particularly attractive.” A knowing smile crept across her sharp features.

  Unsure how to recover, I instead turned my attention to offering us to take a seat to be able to talk more comfortably. I desperately wished that my glamour skills were easier to use on the fly so that I could cover the reddening of my cheeks in a sneaky way.

  “What gives me the honor of hosting a member of the House Drak?” I offered, hoping to change the topic.

  “Well, being the only member with a true sense of decency, I felt it necessary to personally offer my condolences and extend an offer of assistance if you should find yourself in need of it.”

  “That might be nice, I have no idea what to do from here,” I admitted. “I have never had to organize a funeral before, let alone a royal one.”

  Sure, we had talked a lot about what it took to keep a castle running and the servants in line, but it had been an awkward topic to speak about what would happen when Evonia died. Though awkward, I really wished that we would have pushed through the odd feelings to establish what I was to do. I knew she deserved an elaborate ceremony and burial, but I didn't know where to even start with organizing it.

  Mistra nodded understandingly and breathed in deeply as she thought. “Well, I guess the first place to start will be to establish what day you would like the burial to be. I assume that you will not have to worry about preserving the body as Mari should be more than capable of preventing any unwanted changes.”

  I couldn't stop myself from shuddering at the idea of Evonia's body needing to be preserved. This was someone who had raised me for the most meaningful years of my life. I owed her everything and it felt gut wrenching to think of her as just a husk.

  “Sorry if that was too explicit,” she apologized, “but unfortunately during these times sometimes we need to push through the unpleasantness to make necessary progress.”

  Letting out a sigh, I agreed and indicated that I would appreciate it if she continued.

  “Then you will need to dedicate a spot for her body, cement the plans for the actual burial ceremony, and then the wake feast. I would be happy to offer the services of our house cooks to help put together the feast,” she generously offered.

  “Thank you, I think Mari will be the one to talk about the feast,” I replied. “I need to start delegating tasks now that I am bound for coronation.”

  Mistra nodded and patted the back of my hand gently, again eliciting small pulses of energy with every touch. Whether she intended to or not, the little jolts helped to bring me back to more center and less lost in the corners of my mind.

  “Don't worry about that too much,” she said soothingly, “since you had agreed to continue the merger of our Houses, it is my father's duty to arrange that. We will just need to establish a time for that as well. In actuality, I don't think you will have as much on your plate as you probably feel like you do now.”

  I let out a held breath. It still felt like a lot, but at least I wouldn't be responsible for everything. Being a monarch really should come with a manual of some type. Or at least a cheat sheet. Hopefully, far in the future, when I would realize that my reign would come to an end, I would remember this feeling and leave some sort of guide.

  “Then what is there for me to do?” I asked.

  A soft smile spread on her lips and she nodded to acknowledge the wordless admission that I felt lost. “You learn what it means to you to take your grandmother’s place and you take the time to mourn your loss. Mourning can be a full time job if you try to force it down and away. You must face it head on and confront it, only then can you learn to work past.”

  There was pain in her voice, though her face remained steady. She was giving me advice based on her own experience.

  “Thank you for coming to share your condolences and offer your assistance,” I said while rising to my feet. She followed suit and rose as well. “Please tell your father I put the coronation in his capable hands. I will let Mari know that your cooks are at her disposal as well.”

  She lowered her head in reverence and gave me a last compassionate look as she bid me farewell to return to the demon realm. There was a strange feeling left in her wake. Though demonic, I was not left feeling confused or exhausted from trying to peer through their manipulation and tactics. Her words and expressions were honest and sincere and I found myself wishing I could ask her to return.