AVERY
I watched Irisâs face light up with wonder. Her wide eyes took in the grandeur of the ~Lignum Virtutis~, its golden leaves shimmering under the glass dome.
She was spellbound, just as I had been the first time I saw it.
âThis is the Lignum Virtutis... the Tree of Power,â I tried to explain.
What else could I say? That this tree was connected to the ruler of Antaris... she wouldnât understand.
No ordinary tree... Its trunk was snow-white, and its leaves shimmered in a soft golden color, as if they had been forged from the finest metal. They barely moved, as if time was slowing down around it.
A narrow ring of glittering threads in every imaginable color floated around the tree, sometimes deep purple, sometimes bright blue. They whirled slowly through the air as if they were following an invisible melody.
A tree, I said... but it was no ordinary tree and she was aware of that.
Jadeâs laughter echoed through the hall, and Iris flushed, clearly embarrassed.
I shot Jade a look, but she only grinned. She whispered something to Iris before dragging Noah away.
She had probably read Irisâs thoughts again. A gift she had as a witch, but it was only useful on certain beings.
For us magical beings, it was almost useless. We learned to lock our minds early on.
Something that Iris couldnât do.
Her grip on my hand tightened as we ascended the stairs. She was nervous... understandably so.
This world was nothing like the one she came from.
I tightened my grip, hoping to steady her. Her fingers trembled slightly.
Alvar greeted us warmly, his usual stern demeanor melting away. He clasped my shoulder, relief in his eyes.
âGlad youâre back in one piece,â he said, smiling.
âWelcome to the big court,â he added, looking at Iris, who only glared at him in silence.
Alvar stood there as he always didâtall, broad-shouldered, a warrior carved from legends. But the moment his eyes landed on me, that usual sternness melted away, replaced by a grin so bright it could have rivaled the sun.
It was a rare sight, one that reminded me of simpler timesâwhen we were just boys training in the courtyard, dreaming of battles and glory.
His hair, a cascade of gold woven into intricate braids, carried the stories of every fight weâd survived together. And those eyesânot the cold, piercing blue of winter, but the kind that made you think of high mountain lakes under open skies.
Clear. Endless.
Iâd never had reason to envy him before. But then I saw the way Iris looked at him.
Her gaze lingeredâjust a second too longâon the way his smile softened his hardened features. In the way his fingers brushed the hilt of his sword, casual yet deliberate.
The way his presence seemed to fill the space around him effortlessly.
And for the first time, I felt something sharp twist in my chest.
I couldnât read her thoughts. I didnât need to.
Her eyes told me enough.
Was she admiring him? The thought shouldnât have bothered me.
Alvar was my closest friendâloyal, fearless, the kind of man people naturally respected. But the way Iris studied him, like she was seeing something Iâd long taken for granted...
It made me grip her hand a little tighter. Just to remind herâIâm still here.
I introduced Iris, and she managed a small smile.
âTell our father weâre here,â I heard Ava say.
âYes, princess,â Alvar replied. âKing Elior is already expecting you.â
Princess... King...
Irisâs fingers twitched, then she yanked her hand away like sheâd been burned.
The hurt hit me harder than I expected.
Did she really think so little of herself? That she wasnât worthy of standing beside us?
âDonât ever do that again,â I said, reclaiming her hand before she could retreat further. âYou are my... you are one of us.â
Her eyes flickered with uncertainty, but she didnât pull away.
Then the doors opened, and we stepped into my fatherâs court.
The grandeur of the hall never failed to impress, but Irisâs reaction was what held my attention. Her breath hitched as she took in the towering pillars, the golden chandelier, the intricate carvings.
She was drowning in it all, until her fingers found mine again, squeezing lightly.
~Iâm here. Youâre safe.~
Father entered, his presence commanding yet warm.
He embraced Ava and me, then turned to Iris.
âYou look like your mother...â Father said softly.
Iris glanced at me, her eyes questioning and uncertain. Then she turned to my father againâand bowed.
A cold shadow passed over his face.
My father had always been an imposing presence. Not just because of his size, but because of the way he dominated every room without saying a word.
His black hair fell silky over his back, slightly wavy, as if the wind itself had shaped it. However, it was his eyes that mesmerized everyone.
Not just purpleâthey shimmered golden, sometimes deep like a nighttime ocean, sometimes translucent like amethyst in the light.
The crown on his head was not a heavy diadem, but an elaborately woven hoop of gold, as natural as if it had sprung from the branches of the holy tree. It only emphasized what was already obvious: here stood a man who knew who he was.
His posture revealed strength, his shoulders were straight, his gaze fearless. A power emanated from him that didnât seem forced, but was deeply rooted within him.
And yet...
In this moment, it was not the king who stood before us.
It was ~my~ father who was watching the bow of a young woman with narrowed brows, obviously not realizing that she didnât have to be submissive here.
âYou will not bow your head before me, Baldurâs daughter,â he said firmly.
My father spoke the words with a gentleness that sounded irrevocable.
His fingers lightly touched her chin, lifting it gently until Iris had to look him straight in the eyes.
I saw a wave of goosebumps run down her arms, her breath catching for a moment.
His touch was not commandingâit was something ~else~. Something that wavered between tenderness and an ancient duty.
And then, as she straightened up, I realized the moment it hit her...
He knew her. Not only her name. Not just her history.
But ~her~.
Irisâs lips trembled slightly as she tried to say somethingâbut no words came.
Just this one, silent understanding that spread between them, as if my father had just given her something back that she hadnât even known she had missed.
And then... he hugged her.
Not a formal greeting, not a polite nod. A full embrace, like she was family.
Iris froze, her eyes wide. But slowly, ever so slowly, she relaxed.
Father guided her to the table, his voice gentle as he spoke. âThere was much you didnât know, Iris.â
She looked so lost. So small. Like her entire world had been ripped out from under her.
I wanted to tell her everything would be alright. That she belonged here, with us...with me.
But words wouldnât be enough. So instead, I kept her hand in mine, a silent promise. ~Iâm not letting go.~
I watched Iris listen to my father with breathless devotion. Her fingers clutched lightly at the armrests of her chair, as if she couldnât hold on otherwise.
Every word he spoke seemed to pull her deeper into her seatâas if she feared the truth would tear her away if she didnât grip tightly enough.
âOpen your heart, Iris. Trust your instincts...thatâs the only way youâll understand everything,â I heard Father say.
He spoke with a voice that was always both gentle like a summer breeze and relentless like the tide. I knew this tone.
It was the same one heâd used to teach me my first lessons about responsibility as a child. Back then, I hadnât understood why his words had shaken me so.
Now I could see it in Irisâs eyes. She just nodded, silent, but her whole body was tense like a string.
As if not only her ears but her whole being was trying to close around each sentence before it faded away.
Ava leaned forward slightly. Her hand almost reached out as if to touch Iris, but then she changed her mind. I understood the impulse.
It was hard to watch her feel so alone at that moment, even though we were all sitting around her.
Then my father started speaking. His voice filled the room like a warm stream, every word carrying a weight that was impossible to ignore.
Irisâs breathing was shallow, her eyes widened...