Without warning, the tears begin to brim in my eyes, falling down my cheeks. My heart bursts as I bury my face in my brother's shoulder, the uncontrollable sobs filling the silence of the chamber. I have never felt so honored, before or since. I have newfound pride in my name, but along with it came a heavy responsibility, one I am not certain I can fulfill.

Beside me, Isarrel's silent cries rack his body. More than anything, I wish he could wrap his arms around me, assure me everything will be fine.

The air between us is heavy, thick with a million things unsaid. I will not let you die, brother. You cannot leave us. I cannot do this alone.

Time is running out, yet I do not know how to break this silence between us.

In the end, it is Isarrel who breaks the wall. In a gentle voice, he says, "I know this is not an easy decision for you. You had to leave the place you had lived your whole life. I—" His voice breaks as fresh tears flows down his face in glistening lines that torment me. "I wish you could forgive me, Mirre. For passing this burden on to you."

"No. No, there is nothing to forgive," I protest, shaking my head vehemently as I wipe away the tears from his cheeks. "Brother, the decision was always my own. The Summer King has asked for my hand in marriage. No other proposal is more promising. Besides, I am at a prime age for marriage. And it's Ettrian. I could not ask for a better Alpha. He loves me and will honor me. I would have refused had it been any other man." I rise from my seat and give Isarrel an assuring pat on the back of his hand. I launch into an explanation of Ettrian's dowry: Wagons filled with the finest cotton and silk fabric to make new clothes. New tools and equipment for the mines. Seedlings for the farmers, and chicken and cattle for the herders.

"They will arrive in seven days; enough to keep the city thriving for months to come," I reassure him. "And you can cast away your concerns over the borders' security. Ettrian has sworn to deploy an army to guard the kingdom while negotiations with House Khriskhana is underway. Ilialana will be safe."

Isarrel's eyes widen, turning glassy as his lips slide into a shaky smile. "Now, why am I not surprised? Any other bridegroom would have asked for the world."

"Brother, this is my world." I gesture around me before fixing my gaze back to him. "You and Nenaias and the boys are my world."

Isarrel's features soften at this, nodding in silent gratitude. He knows I will do everything in my power to protect the family, and this pact with the Phosories is the first stepping stone to ensuring the kingdom remains peaceful.

But despite all my self-assurances, I know in my heart this is merely a marriage of convenience—a political agreement between two kingdoms seeking to gain something from the other. There are a lot of things at stake here, a lot of people involved, and every decision must be taken into careful consideration. My brother knows that as well as I do.

"Mirre." Isarrel struggles to sit up. "Before you go, there is something I must give you." I prop a few more pillows behind him to help him sit up. He groans painfully, his face turning even more ashen as he finally manages to sit up. He points to the chest of drawers beside me, which I draw close to him. He opens one of the drawers, pulls out a small bundle, and hands it to me. "This is for you."

I look at the bundle, a red velvet neatly tied with a golden string.

"Now could not be a more perfect time to give it to you, Mirre."

"What is it?" I asked as I slowly untie the string. Inside is a familiar-looking dagger in its intricately detailed sheath. I removed the weapon from its casing and bring it closer to my eyes, admiring its intricacies.

The Azuri, a marvelously crafted family heirloom passed on from generation to generation. The sheath is made of pure silver engraved with gold, adorned with a large sapphire. The handle boasts an equally astounding beauty and craftsmanship, decorated with interlacing engravings and gemstones. The blade gleams as I turn the dagger over between my hands.

"But...why are you giving this to me? Only the king can possess it," I argue as I slide the dagger back in its sheath.

"Don't take this journey of yours lightly, Mirre," Isarrel says in a stern voice. "The world is teeming with wicked people, waiting to catch the unwary. You may think it safe to have the Summer King by your side, but the thieves and liars are among his allies. You have much to learn about the world outside of Ossola. But my advice is simple: If the time comes when you have to choose between yourself and another, you choose them to die."

The Azuri suddenly feels cold and heavy in my hand, the reality falling upon me like a fireball.

My brother is right. Evil is lurking in all corners, and the Phosories had chosen to consort with my enemy: House Khriskhana is one of their steadfast allies. Is this what they meant by keeping your friends close and your enemies closer?

"Protect yourself from everything. From everyone. Keep the Azuri close to you at all times. "

I wrap the dagger with the red velvet and hold it close to my chest. "I hear you, brother. And I thank you."

"Oh, Mirre..." A flash of surprise passes through Isarrel's face as he pulls back to get a better look at the choker around my neck. He runs his fingers over the teardrop pendant. "Consort-father's..." He looks up at me with an amused smile. "But... where did you find it?"

I briefly explain how consort-father had asked my steward to give it to me, shortly before his passing. All the while my brother's eyes glimmered like the distant stars, the smile on his lips now as easy and familiar as the sun. I sense he is about to say something insightful; words I could take with me to my journey.

"The world is not kind, Mirre. Some people will judge you harshly simply for being an Omega—for being you. They will always want something in return, always have something to say. Some of these will be hurtful things, words to pull you down. You may even think some of them are true, Mirre. But no, you can rise above these insults." He reaches for my hand and squeezes it firmly, a determined look in his eyes. "Others would think you a commodity or a conundrum. But you are neither. You are never 'just an Omega'. You are Prince Vamir of House Ilialana, and no one can ever replace you."

A knock at the door breaks the moment. Just like clockwork, Orrian returns to summon me. My time with my brother has run out.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, Your Highness, but I'm afraid we must depart soon," my steward says contritely. "The mountain roads have a reputation for being plagued with highwaymen and brigands this time of year, Your Highness. General Barandir suggests we reach the next city before nightfall, rent a tavern and stay for the night. Gods willing, we will reach Cardan in three days' time."

Isarrel looks out the window. "Is that what I heard earlier, the Phosories army is here?"

I nod as I pull up the covers to my brother's chest.

Isarrel lowers his head. "Please forgive me for not being able to see you off personally. Perhaps if you move it a few more days after the coronation..." His voice trails off, and left unsaid are a litany of worries for the future; for things I do not wish to think of at this moment.

I lean down and kiss him softly on the forehead. "I will send your regards to Ettrian."

What I do not say is that this may be our final farewell. That we may not see each other, ever again. There are no promises made, no assurances of a reunion.

"Safe travels, Mirre. May the god Ithirae bless your journey."

"Gods watch over and protect you, brother."

I bow, step back, and walk way, perhaps for the final time. My last memory of Isarrel is the look of heartbreak etched into his face as he quickly turns away, thinking I would not see the tears he sheds for me.

Ievos enters the bedchamber as Orrian noiselessly closes the door behind us.

A closed door, an impending death I refuse to accept, and a future I have no control over. This is how a chapter in my life ends.