Chapter 82. Burial for the Fallen

Lotus’s POV

The ice groans beneath our boots as we step onto the lake.

Lanterns line the path in flickering rows, twinkling like stars in the night sky. Beyond the shoreline, hundreds of bodies rest on wooden biers; soldiers, rogues, and humans alike. All laid out in long, solemn rows.

The wind carries the scent of death, not even the pyres burning at the edge of the shores can mask the smell. Someone’s crying softly, but no one tells them to stop.

The war is over, but it has left behind a scar that we will all carry for years to come.

Louis stands beside me, a blanket draped over his shoulders, pale but upright. His brothers flank him, Lennox on his left, Levi on his right, all three of them dressed in black military coats trimmed with silver thread. I stand between them, wrapped in white, the snow already clinging to my hem like ash.

It’s strange, how grief feels louder than battle.

Lennox clears his throat, his breath clouding the