Lorelei

The world narrowed to a single, searing point of agony: the weight of the crown.

The elder woman’s hands, gnarled and surprisingly steady, lifted the delicate circlet from the smaller throne. It was a smaller, more feminine version of my mate’s brutal masterpiece, all silver filigree and pale moonstones. “I crown you as the queen of Veridian,” her voice rang out, but the words were swallowed by the tempest brewing before us.

The crown settled onto my pinned hair. It was cold, ...