voice barely audible over the sound of hooves and paws on gravel, of bird cries in the air. "I don't know how to explain it."
"There's this kind of flavor—no, energy, on the battlefield on the last day," Cresswell murmured. "It's the feeling of change, I think. One night, I would fall asleep with the sense that the fighting would never end, and the next morning, I'd wake knowing and not understanding how that it would be the last day. You don't know if you're about to win or lose, you just know it's the end."
"Is that what I'm afraid of? That I'm—that these people are about to lose?" I asked. Because no matter the fact that I could claim a second nature now, it would never change the fact that the moment I transformed back into a woman, I could immediately stop any injustice I might've suffered as a two-natured, and that these people around me lacked that power.
Cresswell stopped us, Aric, Thao, and Wendell butting up against us, letting the parade of creatures continue to pass by.
"Yes, Bryony, that's what you're afraid of," Cresswell said with a small smile, dipping down to kiss my brow.
"And the fear won't change the outcome," Aric said. "So we'd better keep moving."
We could've walked into the palace, gone to find my mother, to hear the words from her first. Instead, we followed the steady path of the two-natured around us through the main palace gates, up the path through the gardens, to stand on the yard beneath the balcony. We were near the back of the crowd, but it parted easily for me, letting me walk forward, my gaze fixed upon the figure at the balustrade.
My mother was so small. Soft and rounded and petite, surrounded by the taller figures of men. It was evening and the sun was setting, but there were lamps resting on the edge near her.
"Do you think the council talked her into stricter measures?" Thao whispered to Wendell, who hushed him in answer.
My mother was searching the faces of the animals and people, and it wasn't until we'd reached the front of the crowd that she found me. There was sorrow in her expression, pain and a little resentment, like how she'd looked at my grandmother when she'd asked why she'd been given the crown so young.
In truth, I didn't know if my mother would ever have been ready to rule. I wasn't even always certain that ruling was something one should feel prepared for.
Please, I thought up to her, my heart pounding, eyes burning. Please do the right thing. For me. For them.
My mother's hand lifted, and hush sank over the crowd like a blanket, her gaze still holding mine.
"My people, my beautiful Kimmerians," she said, pausing as she stared at me another moment, before lifting her gaze away. "Forgive me. I hear your voices now as if my ears are uncovered for the first time. I see your trials. You have been treated without care or justice.
"No citizen so exquisite should be forced to hide. From this moment forward, the classification of two-natured will be stricken from our legislature. The registries burnt. The laws abolished."
A brilliant scream of victory rose up around us, even Cresswell huffing with shocked laughter. I held my breath instead, watching my mother. Who had given her these words? Jack McCallum? Who'd given her the strength against the rest of the council? Michael? He was there in the background with her other Chosen.
"The only law regarding the two-natured will be one that ensures your place of safety and respect with every other citizen of Kimmery!" My mother's voice wavered, unused to her own clear tone, the volume of authority. Her eyes widened as the crowd screamed again. We were jostled, my Chosen and I, as bodies surged and celebrated.
My mother smiled briefly, but the sunset caught on the tears tracking down her cheeks.
"We need to get inside," I said to Aric, who was watching the dancing crowd with a smile. His eyes flicked to me, brow furrowing slightly in confusion, but he nodded, catching the attention of the others and pushing me forward to the veranda doors.
"What's wrong?" Cress asked, seeing the tension on my face.
"I don't know. Maybe nothing."
But it wasn't nothing I'd seen on my mother's face. I didn't know what that pain meant, only that this victory wasn't as sweetly won as most of my mother's support.
Amos was waiting in the doorway, ushering us inside, a deep scowl carved