test in its own right. I could either crumble, or I could seize control—the way a true leader would. If I could control the Vanir, I could save the Night Elves in the caverns.
The Vanir and the High Elves were still deadlocked in a tie. If the Vanir could still win the final tiebreaker—with me at the helm—freedom would be ours at last. My mind was whirling a million miles a minute, but I had to get control, immediately.
Swallowing hard, I raised myself to my full height. I schooled my features into a serene expression. “Do not speak to your Empress that way, witch,” I said firmly. “And do not doubt me. I stabbed your Emperor in the heart. He was dead before he began to burn. You have sent assassins after me twice, and you personally tried to kill me on the practice field. All three attempts failed.”
A hush fell over the hall.
The seidkona’s eyes widened. “But she is a Night Elf!”
“The law is clear,” said the Regent. “And we will not amend it. She killed the Emperor and withstood three trials. The Night Elf is heir to the realm.”
Hope swelled within my chest like a sea breeze filling a sail.
In a rush, the Vanir warriors surrounded me, shouting my name and banging their swords on their shields. The noise was deafening, but I had to focus. We still had a Winnowing to win.
“Stop!” I said.
Immediately, they fell silent.
“You accept me as your Empress?” I asked.
“Yes!” the warriors shouted in unison.
“We are at your service!” someone shouted.
“Our lives are yours,” said another.
I locked eyes with the Regent. I knew the seidkona wasn’t about to let this go. “We must speak in private. In an hour. And between now and then, I want you to send warriors to look for Galin.”
An hour later, I was sitting in the Emperor’s chambers dressed in fresh clothes: black leather pants and a dark silver shirt.
I sat at an oak table by a window that overlooked rolling fields. On the table before me was wine, hot venison stew, and a salad of tomatoes and dandelion greens. I was starving, but before I could bring myself to eat, I needed answers.
“What is the news of Galin?” I asked the Regent, my heart hammering.
The Regent shook his head. “He has not been found. At your request, one of our warriors flew to the bottom of the well. He retrieved the body of one of our men, but that is all. Galin, it seems, did not fall to his death.”
I loosed a sigh. Good. Now, my stomach started rumbling, and I dug into the rich meal. Gods, it was amazing. “And you locked the seidkona away, right?”
“As you commanded, Empress,” said the Regent. “But these are not the most pressing matters.”
I beg to differ.
He shook his head again. “We need to make your position as Empress official. We must arrange for a coronation.”
“Why?”
“It will ensure your safety. The Vanir will not touch you once you are crowned.”
I felt blindsided, my mind still on the Winnowing. I didn’t feel like an empress—still like a soldier who had a final battle ahead of me. “Can we make this coronation fast? After the ceremony is over, we must prepare for our final trial with the High Elves. We must win the Winnowing. Can we go down to the throne room and do this coronation now?”
“There is no throne room, Empress. Your power comes from the land—from Vanaheim’s mountains, plains, and forests. You must ask them personally that they recognize you as Empress. Then, you will be secure.”
I sighed. “How exactly does that happen?”
Eight great stones ringed us. Nearly as tall as the treetops, they towered over the grass of the meadow. Beyond them, the verdant forest stretched out over rolling hills. It had rained recently, and I could smell the fresh pine and wet earth. Clouds hung low above us, misty and gray. The air was completely still. It felt like the world was holding its breath. Waiting for what was to come next.
Meanwhile, impatience was rising within me, my mind still on the Citadel.
The Regent stood before me, his cloak pulled tight. He held a simple wooden crown in his hand. With a slight nod, he indicated that I should kneel. Then, holding the crown above me, he spoke in a clear voice.
“Astrid, daughter of Volundar. With this crown, you become Empress of the Vanir. You take up the mantle once worn by our gods: Freyja, Freyr, and Njord.”