Through Fire and Water

By Kyla Shinder

Now Queen of Esteopia, the welfare of Tympany’s kingdom and the safety of her husband, Blekket Elrod, rest heavily on her shoulders.

As war between the kingdoms continues, Tympany’s determination to protect Blekket leads her to regrettably join forces with her eldest sister, Hadestia. Hadestia wants to destroy Kylantis, home of the Gods. While Hadestia helps Tympany develop her powers beyond what she imagined possible, Tympany’s sister’s methods of teaching send her down a spiralling path. A path from which not even Blekket can save her.

When tragedy strikes and Tympany loses everything, she must recommit to the family she turned her back on to bring Hadestia down once and for all. Will Tympany save her people and her husband from the threat Hadestia poses? Or will she end up the closest to death an immortal goddess can get—alone?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Apr 26, 2024
• ISBN: 9781035830015

Kyla Shinder

Kyla Shinder grew up and currently lives in New York City. She is a graduate of Sarah Lawrence College and is now working towards an M.S.E. in school counselling, at Fordham University. She has won multiple awards for her writing. Through Fire and Water is the sequel novel to Until the Last Drop. Kyla is the proud mother of a beautiful Cavachon puppy named Tippi.

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About the Author

Kyla Shinder grew up and currently lives in New York City. She is a graduate of Sarah Lawrence College and is now working towards an M.S.E. in school counselling, at Fordham University. She has won multiple awards for her writing. Through Fire and Water is the sequel novel to Until the Last Drop. Kyla is the proud mother of a beautiful Cavachon puppy named Tippi.

Dedication

For the incredible readers: reach for the stars. Don’t settle for the roof.

Content Warning: Depression, miscarriage, death, discussions of

suicidal ideation.

Copyright Information ©

Kyla Shinder 2024

The right of Kyla Shinder to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781035830008 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781035830015 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2024

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

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E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

I’ve dreamt of publishing a book my whole life. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be able to say I published a series to completion. I’ll forever be in debt to Austin Macauley Publishers for taking a chance on me and this series, and wanting to see it through to the end with me. This story, and these characters, have changed my life forever and will always hold a special place in my heart. While Tympany and Blekket’s story might be over, this is only the beginning for me.

I want to start this off by giving a special shoutout to two very important men. The first being Edward Adelson, my grandfather who passed away the same week I was offered a contract for Through Fire and Water. Zaida, you were the greatest grandfather a person could ever ask for. Our real life music man and the embodiment of sunshine in shoes. In our last conversation, you made me promise that I’d never stop writing. I swear to you with every fiber of my being, I will never stop. Your entire career as a cardiologist was predicated on your desire to help people, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do with my writing, to be able to touch someone the way my favorite books have touched me. I honor you with this book and every other book I publish in the future (I hope there are many, many more). I love you, my Zaida.

The second man who gets a shoutout is my childhood family dog, Lev. My brother. My littlest angel, who was diagnosed with Lymphoma for the second time the same week I signed the contract for this book with Austin Macauley Publishers. My sweet boy, I really hope you’re still here by the time this book is published, but if you’re not, you are forever immortalized in these pages. Even though I killed off the character you’re named after (sorry about that), it’s not a reflection of how much I love you. Loving you over the past fourteen years has been so easy. It’s the reason I was able to write Tympany and Blekket’s love story. Because of you, I know what it feels like to truly love something. Because of you, I understand why having something and potentially losing it is still better than not having had it at all. I wouldn’t trade the last fourteen years with you for anything. I love you forever, my Levy.

To Kjersten Piper-Gresk, the best beta reader there ever was. Thank you for always being so supportive of me and my writing. I love you, my friend.

To Jess Renz, because I quite literally wouldn’t be here without you.

To Tippi, my beautiful fur baby. Mommy loves you so much, my sweet girl. You’re still my muse.

To my incredible family: my mom, Robin, my dad, Jeff, my step-mom, Laura, and my three sisters, Alex, Elie, and Juliet, I love you guys to the ends of the earth. You’re my biggest cheerleaders and my best friends. How lucky am I to be surrounded by so much love and kindness on a daily basis. Thank you for believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself.

And lastly, hi little seven-year-old Kyla. We ended up publishing the sequel after all, even after we cried on the floor of our apartment and said we didn’t know if we could handle publishing another book. I promised I’d dedicate every last one of my future accomplishments to you from here on out. I stand by that, but I’d like to say something right now to seventeen-year-old Kyla if that’s okay. 

Hey, teenage Ky. Long time no chat. I wish I could give you a hug. Thank you for holding on even when you didn’t want to, even when all you wanted was to give up, so I could write the book I wish I’d had when I was your age. I look back on my teenage self with a lot of sadness and pity, but I don’t give you enough credit for how much you fought for us. It’s only because of your strength and perseverance that I got us here. So, as much as seven-year-old Kyla deserves her shoutout for being the one to originate this dream of ours, you get even more for being the reason I’m still here, able to bring our dream to fruition.

And guess what? We’re not sitting alone in the dark anymore. We’re standing in the sun with two published books. 

Chapter One

Up or down?

I was seated on a wooden stool, plopped in front of a ridiculously large mirror, with my best friend Pessy’s fingers threaded in my hair, whipping it in different directions while debating how to style it.

I don’t care, I replied with a shrug, sipping my champagne.

You don’t care? My soon-to-be little sister, Raevon, spluttered. How can you not care?! This is the most important day of your life!

I’m not the one who has to look at myself all day. Besides, you two are way better judges of style.

That’s true, Pessy remarked, ignoring the way I wrinkled my nose at her with contempt. She stalked around the stool to examine me from all angles, twisting a strand of her blonde hair around her finger. Well, her jumpsuit is over the shoulder, so it might be nice to expose her neck and collarbones.

But her hair looks so pretty when it’s curled, Raevon countered. Tympany, please weigh in, or we’ll go back and forth all day.

The two of them had been going at it about whether to leave my hair down or up for almost an hour. I’d finished an entire bottle of champagne in that time frame and was close to completing a second. My immortal tolerance for liquor was on the cusp of rupturing into full on inebriation.

As you know, I’ve given this a lot of thought, I taunted, both women exchanging mirthful smiles at the sarcasm dripping from my tone. After careful deliberation, I have decided…up is the winner.

Yes! Pessy squealed.

But, why? Raevon moaned.

I’d rather have my hair pulled away from my face during the ceremony, in case it’s hot in there. Or, if I cry.

What I didn’t mention was how my fiancé had a preference for me being my most natural, authentic self.

He’d expect me to have my hair knotted back.

Can we at least curl the front pieces that are shorter, so it frames your face nicely? Raevon lifted a tendril and swung it in my eye, making me giggle. You can’t look the same as you do every day, Tymp. Today’s special.

She’s got a point there, Pessy admitted, winking at her girlfriend.

I declared, Do whatever you want with me, and tipped my head back, extending my arms and unfurling my hands for further emphasis.

You’re so dramatic, Raevon laughed.

She’s not dramatic, Pessy corrected. She’s drunk. Blek’s going to kill us for letting her drink this much.

Forget Blek. My father’s going to have an aneurism if Tympany can’t keep her head up during the ceremony.

Relax, you two. I’m not even buzzed. I swatted at the air, thinking Pessy was still right there, but she’d already crossed the room to retrieve a curling iron. I nearly tumbled off the stool, but Raevon caught me.

Rae, can you get Tympany some water? Pessy knelt down, enunciating, Wa-ter. You’re going to drink ALL of it. Every last drop.

Yes, ma’am. I saluted her.

You gotta admit, Raevon said as she passed me a glass of Argent Ocean water, it’s kind of funny.

It won’t be if we can’t get her down the aisle.

I’m fine! I insisted, rolling my eyes. I took a sip, the crisp, cold liquid cleansing my mouth and tongue of the acidulous flavour of champagne. I muttered into the glass, "And you called me dramatic."

Why did you even drink so much? Pessy grumbled.

Because you two wouldn’t shut up about what to do with my hair, and I didn’t know what else to do with myself.

You sure that’s the only reason?

What else would it be? When I finished the water, Raevon was quick with the replenish.

Maybe you’re nervous about today and you don’t want to admit it.

I’m not nervous, I disputed with a vigorous shake of my head. I needed to dispel her of that supposition immediately because I was the farthest thing from nervous. In fact, I was bursting with excitement.

Today, I would marry the love of my life, Blekket Shamus Elrod, and officially become the Queen of Esteopia. We’d waited three months, per tradition after the passing of a previous monarch, for this moment. I wasn’t anxious in the slightest. If anything, I was impatient for today to already be over, so I could finally call Blekket my husband out loud and not just in my head.

You sure you’re not trying to sabotage the day? Pessy pushed.

After all the shit, we’ve had to deal with, I definitely don’t need to add ammunition to our bad luck.

True, she muttered, all three of our shoulders tensing up.

The kingdoms of Sleotha and Esteopia had been at war with one another for ten thousand years. The Gods historically backed Sleotha, until I decided to defy my family and support Esteopia, after meeting and falling in love with Blekket. The war with Sleotha was still ongoing, though we’d reached an impasse three months ago after our meeting with my eldest sister, Hadestia, where it was revealed she was the true queen of Sleotha and had plans to destroy our parents and siblings. She entreated my help, believing that our powers combined, her army of drogon and my ability to influence and inspire the actions of others, would be enough to annihilate our family.

If I didn’t choose to help her, she threatened the life of the man I loved, who we learned died when he was seven and was brought back to life by Hadestia as a means of leverage against her adversaries.

Because he was once dead, Hadestia, the Goddess of Death, possessed the ability to control him.

To end his life with a snap of her fingers.

I’d had what seemed to everyone else like an impossible decision to make: either help her destroy Kylantis and our family, or watch her obliterate Esteopia and take Blekket from me. For me, it was as simple then as it was now—with no other option that would allow me to protect the people I loved, I agreed to her terms. I hadn’t seen or spoken to my older sister since we had an Esteopian representative send word to Sleotha about my decision.

Which was good, I supposed, because it meant, for the past three months, there were no attacks or killings.

But it was also a precarious relief, because I knew she was biding her time until I was officially crowned Queen for us to begin planning.

Which would happen after today.

If I was anxious about anything, it related to her. It had nothing to do with marrying my soulmate.

Raevon gathered the hair Pessy already styled into a low ponytail, while Pessy worked on curling the pieces in the front. I sat like a statue between them, sipping my water and trying not to sway.

Have you seen Blek yet? I asked Rae.

I have.

How’s he doing? She gave me an odd look at the concern limning the edges of my voice.

You two have your lack of patience in common, that’s for sure. He can’t wait to see you.

That made me smile. I miss him.

You saw him yesterday, Pessy said.

I know, but I didn’t sleep with him last night. I’d stayed with Pessy and Raevon, since they insisted it was tradition for the bride and groom to sleep apart before their wedding. Blekket fought them over this for the past three months, not wishing to be parted from me, so the girls a few nights before challenged Blek to a swordfight to see who would be victorious. He lost by a very close margin, much to his, and my dismay.

Sounds like you’ve got it bad, Raevon teased, pinching my cheek.

Or she’s just super horny. Raevon and I both shot Pessy a glower. What? she asked innocently. How long has it been since you two had sex, Tymp?

Too long, I sighed, slumping. Ninety days, to be precise.

Raevon pretended to stick her finger down her throat and gagged in an overdramatized manner.

I don’t want to hear about my brother and sister’s sex life, or lack thereof.

This coming from the girl who this morning slipped her tongue into my—

Bah! I covered my ears with my hands. Pess! Boundaries!

Since when did you guys become a bunch of prudes? Pessy shook her head. Is there some rule saying sisters can’t talk about sex that I’m unaware of? I’ve never had sisters, so I wouldn’t know.

There’s no rule, Raevon responded. It’s just…weird.

It shouldn’t be. Sex is a completely natural part of life. We’re all having it, and we’re all aware we’re having it. Why should we be secretive about it? Men don’t feel shame talking about sex.

She had us with that one. It’s not shame, per se. It’s just…that’s my big brother. Raevon shuddered.

Then let’s pretend Blekket doesn’t exist, and Tympany is marrying some random person.

Is this mystery person attractive? That’s all I care about, I murmured, swishing the last droplets of water around my glass.

Of course they’re attractive. They’re marrying you. I beamed. What would you say to Tymp if she told you she was having an epic dry spell with her fiancé?

Hm… Raevon flipped her long hair the colour of onyx, which had been straightened for today’s festivities, off her shoulder, then stroked her chin. Have you tried talking to him about it?

You know how your brother can be.

I thought we were pretending this wasn’t my brother?

Yeah, but in this case, we have to bring Blek back into it, because you know him. He’s the master of circumventing serious conversations.

That’s true, she agreed. What does he do when you try to talk to him about it? My cheeks burned.

Either cracks some joke, pokes at my ego and gets us to start bantering, says something stupidly romantic, or turns the tables on me and brings me to orgasm, all of which distract me from probing.

You do have the attention span of a goldfish, Pessy teased, ducking to avoid the swing of my hand.

Wait. He’s making you orgasm, but you’re not having sex? Bemusement slathered over Raevon’s face.

He won’t let me touch him sexually at all.

And he’s never done this before? It’s not a pattern of his?

Not since I’ve known him. It’s so weird.

Huh. Sounds like it. Her brows furrowed as she kept mulling this over, her earlier chagrin at knowing the intimate details about her sibling’s sex life vanished. Now, she was invested.

I just don’t want to complicate things by bringing it up to him, if I end up making drama out of nothing.

I don’t think three months of no sex and Blekket not letting you touch him is making something out of nothing, Raevon reassured me. Something’s definitely up. But are you afraid to ask him about it because you don’t want to complicate things, or are you afraid of the answer?

Damn. You’re good, I commended, while Pessy leaned down, pecking Raevon on the cheek.

It’s why I keep her around, she teased.

Maybe a little, I admitted, flushing. Not that I think it has anything to do with me. At least, I hope it doesn’t.

It definitely doesn’t, Pessy promised. Blek adores you, Tymp. I see the way he looks at you. You’re his everything. That hasn’t changed. Whatever’s going on with him, it has nothing to do with you. Trust me. She tugged the cord of the curling iron out of the wall, winding it around the handle. Okay. I think we’re done with your hair. Make sure you like it first, though.

I rose off the stool and spun around, admiring Pessy and Raevon’s handiwork in the mirror.

Raevon had been right to insist on letting the front pieces of my hair loose. The curled tresses framed my oval shaped face like a diadem of chestnut, accentuating the gentle curve of my jawline and causing my brown skin to glow in contrast. My amber eyes favoured green today, the flecks of gold dispersed through the hue not as visible when they weren’t doused in sunlight. While I truly didn’t care much about my appearance when they’d first asked me, the finished result left me feeling beautiful in my skin, like the queen that, in a few short hours, I would officially be crowned as.

Both girls sensed I was about to cry and rushed to my side, my shoulders occupied by two gorgeous heads.

I love you guys, I laughed, feeling foolish for my tears.

We love you more, Pessy said, swooping in to plant a quick kiss on my cheek. Now, let’s get you married!

A few minutes later, Olivette appeared in the doorway to my bedchamber. She’d been the Personal Advisor to Her Majesty when Queen Seraphina was alive, as well as the curator and designer of all the Queen’s clothing. About a month ago, I sat down with her to discuss my vision for my wedding attire, as well as my wardrobe once I was crowned Queen. She’d looked mildly disgusted by the request for more jumpsuits, doing her best to coax me into wearing more dresses.

That argument died before it began.

Since then, we’d been sort of awkward around each other. I knew it would be an adjustment for the staff to start regarding me and Blekket as their sovereigns. Demetrio warned us of this, since he experienced the same after Rosabella died and Seraphina became the monarch.

Blek and I being vastly different from any King and Queen who’d come before, in both our lax demeanours, me being the Goddess of the Heart and Mind, and Blekket being…well, Blekket, didn’t help ease the transition.

Olivette entered the room carrying my wedding jumpsuit. We’d come to a compromise of sorts, the jumpsuit having off-the-shoulder bishop sleeves with tulle accents, a sweetheart neckline, and a detachable floral embroidery train that wrapped around my waist and flowed out at the back when I walked. We took some of the lace material from Blekket’s mother’s wedding dress to fashion the train, only after receiving Demetrio’s permission to do so.

Every time I tried this jumpsuit on, I felt Seraphina’s presence, as if she were standing behind me. Some days, I’d go the whole day without thinking about her, without remembering how the Sleothians shot an arrow through her chest and murdered her on the day we moved the Esteopians into Tympany’s Province. Other days, like today, I couldn’t get her out of my head. She should’ve been here with us, celebrating the day she always knew would come to fruition, her son fulfilling his destiny in becoming King. Her absence would never not feel like shackles nipping at my flesh.

Here you go, Your Majesty. Olivette splayed my jumpsuit out on the duvet, smoothing the trousers with her palm so there would be no wrinkles. She wore a beautiful silk dress the colour of lavender, which looked immaculate juxtaposed with her dark hair.

Thank you, I said, then added, You look beautiful, Olivette. Her cheeks flushed crimson.

Thank you, Your Majesty. She gave me a brisk nod, then rushed from the room, closing the door behind her.

She’ll warm up to you, Raevon guaranteed, which she’d been saying for the past month.

I just sighed.

I didn’t blame Olivette, or any of the staff, for taking time to acclimate to the new regime. Seraphina and Demetrio were wonderful rulers, kind, fair, and resilient. If I turned out to be half as good as they were, then I’d know I did my job right.

Pessy helped me into the jumpsuit, Raevon fastening the silk buttons at the back. I traced my fingers over the adorned flowers on the sleeves, feeling strangely nostalgic. I hadn’t thought of my own mother in months, not since she threatened the welfare of Esteopia and had my friend murdered, but now, I irrationally wished she was here, wished my father was the one giving me away.

Demetrio offered to take the role in his place, but I’d politely declined, preferring to walk myself down the aisle. I hoped it would represent me taking ownership of my life, choosing to value my independence over someone else’s perception of what I should be, the same reason I’d pushed to wear a jumpsuit to my wedding and not a gown. It was indicative, in my eyes, of the journey I’d taken since arriving in Esteopia and falling in love with Blekket. I now felt strong enough to stand on my own, when, for my first five thousand years of life, I was never given the chance to try.

Still, in the privacy of my own thoughts, I let myself yearn.

At our rehearsal dinner the preceding night, Pessy asked me privately if I wanted her to travel to Kylantis and request my mother’s presence at the wedding. I said no because I knew she wouldn’t come. I hadn’t seen or spoken to Roara since I compelled her to accept me being Queen of Esteopia.

I had no intention of speaking to her anytime soon.

Pessy, in her peerless way, seemed to know what I was thinking about just by the drooping of my shoulders.

Fuck her, Pessy spat. I’ll be your mother. I barked out a laugh, Raevon frowning at the two of us.

It’s not fair when you guys speak through the bond with someone else in the room, she grumbled.

Sorry, Rae. I squeezed her hand. Your girlfriend was just saying that she’d like to be my mother.

What! Raevon shouted.

That’s not what I meant. Pessy scowled at me. What I was trying to say was, since Roara isn’t here, I’ll be her substitute mum. Rae’s already taken the role of sister. She gesticulated to Raevon.

Does that mean you and my father are Tympany’s parents?

Pessy’s face crumpled with revulsion, like she was about to spew vomit at the mere suggestion.

I take it back. I’ll be your brother then.

But that would make our relationship incestual, Raevon taunted, making me cackle. Pessy threw her hands up in the air.

I can’t fucking win with you two today! she exclaimed in defeat, then ended up laughing in spite of herself.

I don’t need a substitute parent, I said, lacing my fingers with hers. I just need a Pessy.

Well, that can be arranged. She kissed the oval sapphire of my engagement ring, my something blue.

My something old and something borrowed was the lace from Seraphina’s wedding dress.

My something new would be the crown of Esteopia on my head.

How do you feel? Raevon asked me, fiddling with the embroidered train that signified her mother’s presence.

Ready, I replied, and meant it.

The girls did one last sweep of the room to make sure we weren’t forgetting anything, then linked their arms with mine, beginning our trek to the throne room.

The wedding itself would be quite intimate and small. The engagement proclamation we’d held months ago was our people’s chance to partake in our marital bliss. The wedding ceremony and official crowning would be reserved for family, our staff, and the elite Neraids, a species of humanoid beings who were born in the Argent Ocean and drew their strength from the water. We’d host a reception tonight immediately following the ceremony, and then, after our honeymoon, we’d travel to each of the villages in what they called the wedding march—similar to the mourning tour we’d taken after Seraphina passed—to greet our subjects as their official King and Queen.

Blekket and I had argued with Demetrio over the duration of our honeymoon for months, wishing to extend the traditionally allotted two days into a week. After all the pressure we’d been under the last few months, we believed we rightfully earned an extra few days to luxuriate in being husband and wife. We won that battle, wearing him down until Demetrio granted us seven days of time away from the palace, which we planned to spend at our cottage in Tympany’s Province.

Pessy, Raevon and I meandered through the courtyard at the back of the palace, synchronising our footsteps. A little bird, in a bold cap of golden feathers, alit upon a blossomed twig. I stopped to admire it, mesmerised by the way it seemed to cavort on the branch, like it was dancing to a rhythm the wind was humming. It was as though each beat of the bird’s wings formed part of the sonnet in the air, like it knew what was about to transpire and wanted to witness history in the making.

Tympany? I raised my head to where Pessy and Raevon had stopped several feet ahead.

What?

Did you forget you’re getting married? Raevon’s lips curled with semi-amusement, but they both looked genuinely concerned.

Oh. Yeah. I scuttled to meet them, my cheeks flushed with mortification, renewing our stride.

Like I said, Pessy muttered, attention span of a goldfish.

We made our way through the palace to a secluded sector I’d never entered before, since it belonged to the King and Queen. I realized, as we paced, that this would actually be the first time I’d ever seen the throne of Esteopia. When Seraphina was alive, we conducted all our meetings in the dining room, as it allowed everyone to feel like they were active participants in the discussions. I wouldn’t change that practice as Queen. I wanted everyone in our inner circle to feel like their voices were being heard and accounted for, as well as any outside opinions who wished to insert their sentiments.

Blekket explained to me that the throne was mostly just a symbol of the King and Queen’s supremacy, not something usually employed. His mother only sat in her throne a handful of times—on her and Demetrio’s wedding day, when she was crowned Queen; when they held meetings with Solara, ruler of the merfolk; and the few instances when one of the Gods, my siblings, visited.

In fact, the act of their Queen sitting on her throne represented to the villagers that something was awry.

I was told, as a wedding present to me, Blekket had requested a second throne be assembled, so we could sit together on an equal playing field. I’d been adamantly against receiving any gifts, but this one I let pass. It brought tears to my eyes that he’d even thought to do this for me. We would be the first sovereigns in the history of the entire Realm, Kylantis included, to both sit on a throne, to share the burden of our kingdom equally, with no disparity in power.

My soon-to-be father-in-law was waiting outside the throne room, the personification of serenity—a first for him.

Wow, he marvelled, taking in my wedding attire. You look beautiful, Tympany.

Thank you, Demetrio. I tensed slightly, then dared myself to ask, Have you seen him?

He’s been up my ass all morning about being forced to wear a tie, Demetrio replied, the playful way he rolled his eyes telling me I had nothing to worry about. He’s been in very high spirits all day. He can’t wait to see you.

Augustus appeared in the threshold, dressed in the customary blue Esteopian armour, sans the titanium helmet. Augustus had taken on the role of our Chief of General Staff, which previously belonged to Lev, who Pessy’s mother murdered when Roara was trying to get me to return home to Kylantis. While Augustus was pleasant, did his job well, and even sometimes cracked a joke that made me smile, he just wasn’t Lev. He walked in the footsteps of someone who’d set the bar extraordinarily high, almost unfairly high, with his luminescence, kindness, and skill.

Augustus would never obtain the level of comfort and trust we’d had with Lev, no matter how capable or nice he was.

Those shoes were just too big to fill.

We arranged ourselves in the order of hierarchy, Raevon and Pessy in the front, Demetrio next, then me at the back. Olivette appeared, like clockwork, carrying my bouquet. It was an assortment of white roses and lilacs, in honour of Blekket’s signature scent. She handed me the bouquet, then scurried back inside without saying a word.

The sound of a harp resounding from the throne room alerted us that the ceremony was about to commence.

Don’t trip in your shoes, and you’ll be fine, Pessy said as her parting words.

Why would you put that image in my head? I hissed at her, her answering smile one of smugness.

Raevon and Pessy were the first of us to be ushered inside.

They treaded in sync with one another, their corresponding light blue dresses trailing behind them.

I staggered in the too small heels Olivette forced me to wear, antsy for it to be my turn, so I could finally see Blekket.

How bad would it be if I went in there barefoot? I asked Demetrio.

Um… He very much looked like he wanted to contest, but ended up answering, Up to you, with a shrug, after concluding this wasn’t a fight worth having right before my wedding.

I’ll just stick it out, I decided, thinking about it further. Walking into my wedding and official crowning barefoot would send the wrong message, and set a bad tone for my and Blekket’s reign.

Demetrio bobbed his head in a nod, feigning indifference, but I could’ve sworn I saw him sigh with relief.

Walk slow, he counselled quickly, knowing his time slot to solicit advice was slim before he was beckoned to walk. Soak it all in. You and Blek deserve to enjoy today after everything you’ve had to face. I am honoured to call you my daughter and my Queen. My throat was clogged with emotion.

Thank you for being my auxiliary father. You’ve done a great job parenting me already.

I waved down at my shoes.

He chuckled before patting my hand, which is exactly what my father, Isaias, would do if he were here.

Demetrio left me with a wink that made him look so much like his son, then strode into the throne room.

Nerves began settling in, none directed at marrying Blekket, but being forced to endure a room full of people staring at me as I walked alone. I’d learned over the past few months the importance of paced breathing, of taking that extra moment to regulate my heartrate in reducing any anxiety that bubbled to the surface.

I viewed my body in moments like this as though it were a filter inside a fish tank, applying the paced breaths to eliminate any toxins threatening to contaminate the waters that were my mind.

Each inhale and exhale sent more purifying air through the pipe, shoving the anxiety down until the waves stabilized.

The harp began playing a slightly different tune, my signal to enter.

You can do this, I championed myself as I began my strut, my gait as poised and elegant as I could manage it.

The throne room