As they stepped into the courtyard, the gilded caravan sat waiting in front of the sovereign spire—golden wagons covered in emerald highlights and jewels that glimmered in the morning light. Beside them stood Lord Vermillion, holding open one of the doors to a carriage in the middle of the procession.
"Your Majesty," he said with a bow. "This way."
Layla returned his gesture with a small nod and glanced behind to ensure Dara was still trailing close. The crowd at the front of the spire pressed tighter as she moved toward the wagon, their cheers rising as the door shut behind her. Layla's pulse quickened at the sound, her veins burning as she thought of what lay ahead—the fact that there was no turning back now. Dara's face remained neutral, her hand resting on one of her daggers whenever Layla was exposed to the crowd. A sharp crack echoed from the front of the carriage, followed by a sudden jerk that set them rolling on their journey—a journey Layla still didn't think she was ready for.
"Do you think they'll all be waiting when we arrive? The other kingdoms, I mean." Layla's eyes fixed on the small window above the door, watching patterns of trees blur past as they traveled the heavily worn path through her kingdom. Her kingdom, she thought, the words still feeling foreign on her mind.
"Oh, the sun king's definitely going to be there. Pretty sure Helios has been asking about you," Dara said, studying Layla as she seemed lost in the passing scenery.
"I'm sure he'll be delighted to see his future bride." The words jolted Layla from her reverie.
"Bride?" Layla's eyes went wide.
"Caught that one, huh?" Dara flashed her friend a wicked grin. "Look, we both know Helios has been trying to merge Auroris and Solares for decades. First time he's seen you since the funeral and all that. I'd bet good coin that he and daddy dearest are going to push hard for some kingdom bonding. That's half the point of this whole mess—keeping everyone from killing each other."
"I'm not marrying him," Layla said firmly. "And you don't need to make me any more anxious than I already am. It's bad enough I have to be there without having to fend off his advances. You have my permission to relieve him of his tongue if he becomes too persistent." She cast a small smile at Dara.
"Now, now, Lay. Remember, that's no way to make them like you. Besides, how's your future husband supposed to propose without his tongue? A finger maybe, or even a toe, but I think people might notice when the golden prince can't speak."
"Very funny," Layla countered, settling back in her seat and smoothing the edges of her ceremonial dress. "Maybe they'll blame it on Umbra. They have a reputation for their cruelty and not wanting anything to do with any of the other kingdoms."
"Malachai's going to just love that," Dara said with a dry laugh, thinking of the Umbra King coiling shadows around would-be victims over the next seven days. "Though honestly, can you really blame the guy? I mean... seven centuries of doing gods know what in those shadow lands ever since his wife was killed."
"I thought she killed herself?" Layla's smile faded completely.
"That's what they say. But Malachai didn't see it that way. Come on, she died right before his challenges started? Convenient."
The timing had always seemed strange to Layla, but then again maybe the queen simply couldn't take the darkness anymore and needed a way out.
"I think his son took it the worst," Dara continued. "You know, he took a whole squadron of Umbra soldiers and slaughtered a camp of human sorcerers right outside the Lunaris capital. Just killed them all—they were some kind of diplomatic party being escorted by Lunaris forces and poof, all gone."
"Because of his mother?" Layla's eyes went wide at Dara's words.
"Something about one of Queen Nimuria's servants saw one of the proclaimed human warlocks coming out of the Umbra queen's chambers... blah, blah, blah. I don't know, it's all kind of fishy. Anyways... the Prince of Shadow was reprimanded for his actions by his father and the Queen of Lunaris and was bound to serve her for two hundred years to repay the life debt of her soldiers."
Layla turned away from her friend, watching the sun sink below a frozen mountain peak in the distance, knowing they were nearly at the Nexus Sanctum. The weight of all these political undercurrents made her stomach tighten—and she was about to walk right into the middle of it all.
"I can see it," Dara said, pulling aside the small velvet curtain, small bits of light filtering in as she adjusted the onyx dagger at her waist. This was both Layla and Dara's first time at the sanctum, something Layla had dreaded for so long. Layla moved to sit beside her friend, her breath catching as she took in what lay before them. Golden and silver spires shot into the sky, coiling up from around the center of the sanctum. It looked like a small city, surrounded by gardens and shimmering lakes—it was beautiful.
"Gods, it's massive," Layla whispered, her stomach twisting as the reality of being there hit her.
"Look at those spires," Dara said, checking the strap on her second blade while pointing. "They curve like twisted fingers around the center."
Layla stared as they drew closer, the cobblestone seeming to crack under the carriage's weight. The spires did look like fingers of a massive hand reaching for the moon that lingered above the city, slowly curving inward at the top. They seemed to spring from the earth, surrounding some kind of pit in the middle.
"How many people do you think—"
"Each wing looks completely different from the others," Dara interrupted, still fiddling with her weapons.
Four distinct wings for four distinct realms. Layla's mouth went dry taking it all in—the large building in the middle, the four wings, all of it—as she realized she'd be sleeping surrounded by the other kingdoms, sharing meals with them, being watched by them constantly.
"That must be the Convergence," Dara said, drawing Layla's attention to the palm of the hand-like structure. Layla kept silent, looking at the rows and rows of seats that surrounded it.
All those seats. Her stomach dropped as the reality sank in—it wasn't just the other kings and queens who would be watching, sneering or laughing over the next week. Those seats would be filled with Fae from all corners of the four kingdoms: servants who would gossip through the halls at every stumble, guards who would be reporting her every move to their lords, family members with their own political agendas. All of them watching, judging, waiting to see if the young Queen of Auroris would prove herself worthy of the crown or crumble under the pressure. The thought of all those eyes on her as she entered the Convergence made her sick.
"Hey, don't worry," Dara said, noticing the color drain from her face. "First night's just settling in and getting acquainted. We have until tomorrow to prepare you for the real festivities. One step at a time, remember?"
"Easy for you to say. You're not the main attraction," Layla replied, swallowing hard as the carriage lurched to a halt and she heard boots hitting the ground around them.
The door opened. Her heart nearly stopped as Lord Vermillion reached inside and told her it was time—time to show the rest of the world the true beauty and power of Auroris.