Uncertainty

I paced the length of the room for what felt like the hundredth time, my mind spinning faster than my feet could carry me. Sera had been gone for over an hour now, and the silence in this tiny, suffocating space was closing in on me like a noose. The walls felt too close, too cramped, as if they could collapse in at any second, and I couldn't stop thinking about everything that could go wrong. 

What if they arrest her before she even gets to speak? What if one of the guards recognizes her? What if she chokes up? Or worse—what if the Queen sees through the polished speech we spent hours crafting and rejects her on the spot? 

I sank down onto the old couch, but I didn't stay there long. My body was too restless, too filled with nervous energy to sit still. I shot back up, running my hands through my hair and pulling it into a knot at the back of my head, more out of habit than anything else.

There were too many things that could go wrong. I hated this. I hated not being there with her. I hated that she had to stand in front of Queen Aelin, all alone, while I was stuck here, useless, just waiting. 

It felt wrong, like I had failed her somehow. All I had done was watch from the shadows as she worked to build her name back up, watching as she convinced people to rally behind her cause. People believed in Sera now—they saw her as the future, the change they so desperately needed—but I was still terrified it wasn't enough.

What if they didn't choose her?

What if, after all of this, the Queen picked someone else? One of the other four girls? There were five of them standing before her, and while Sera was undoubtedly strong and determined, the others weren't exactly pushovers either. They had their own stories, their own struggles, their own reasons to want the throne. Sera might have made it this far, but this was the final stretch. She was one of five. 

Five girls, all waiting to be chosen.

I sank back onto the couch, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing through every possible outcome. I'd seen how this system worked, how the Queen played politics. What if the decision wasn't even about who was best for the kingdom but about who was easiest to control? What if Sera's independence, her stubbornness, was exactly what would cost her this chance?

I hated myself for thinking that way, but I couldn't help it. We'd worked so hard, sacrificed so much, just for this moment. But what if it wasn't enough? What if everything we'd done to clear her name, to get her to this point, all fell apart right now? 

The thought made my stomach churn.

I picked up the tablet from the table, though I wasn't sure why. There wasn't anything on it that could distract me—no messages, no news, nothing but the endless, ticking clock in my head. I couldn't focus on anything else. It was all about Sera, about what was happening in that throne room right now. 

I could picture her, standing tall and defiant, her back straight, shoulders squared as she addressed the Queen. We'd gone over her speech a thousand times, rehearsing it until I could probably recite the whole thing from memory. 

I am Seraphina of Orphic, and I stand before you not as a fugitive, but as a woman who believes in justice, who believes in the people. 

It was bold. Too bold, maybe. I wasn't sure. Sera insisted on it—she needed to be true to herself, she said. She couldn't stand before the Queen and hide who she was, not after everything she had done to reach this point.

But what if boldness wasn't enough? What if it was too much?

I shook my head, trying to push the thought away. Sera knew what she was doing. She always had. I just… I needed to trust her. But the longer she was gone, the more my doubts clawed at me, gnawing away at every shred of confidence I had left.

I glanced at the clock again. An hour and a half. It felt like an eternity. What was taking so long? Was it a good sign or a bad one? Was the Queen asking questions, probing deeper into Sera's motivations, or was she already moving on to the next candidate?

A thousand possibilities rushed through my head, none of them comforting. 

I stood up again, crossing the room to the window. I didn't know what I expected to see—just the same narrow alley, the same shadows creeping along the brick walls. But it was better than staring at the clock. 

I rested my forehead against the cool glass, my breath fogging up the pane. I hated this. I hated not knowing. I hated the uncertainty. But most of all, I hated feeling powerless. I'd spent the last year trying to protect her, trying to help her fix the mess that had been made of her life. But now, at this crucial moment, there was nothing I could do. 

She was on her own.

I closed my eyes, trying to calm the storm in my mind, but it was no use. The doubts kept circling, feeding on every ounce of fear I had tucked away. 

Would the Queen really choose her? Could she?

Sera was the best choice—I believed that with everything in me—but the Queen wasn't just looking for the best candidate. She was looking for someone who could lead, someone who could inspire the people but also follow the rules of the monarchy. Someone she could trust to carry on the legacy of Orphic. 

And that's what terrified me. Sera wasn't someone you could control. She had always been fierce, independent, willing to break the rules if it meant doing what was right. It's what made her so special, but it was also what could cost her everything. 

I took a deep breath, pressing my palms against the cool surface of the window.

Please, let it be enough. 

Let them see her for who she really is. Let them see what I see.

And then, as if answering my silent plea, the door creaked open behind me. I whirled around, heart leaping into my throat, and there she was—Sera, standing in the doorway, her expression unreadable.

I froze. "What happened?"

She closed the door behind her, her movements slow, deliberate. For a moment, she didn't say anything, just stared at me with those piercing eyes of hers. And then, finally, she smiled. 

"I did it," she said, her voice soft but filled with a quiet strength. "I'm in the top two."

The relief that flooded through me was overwhelming. I practically collapsed onto the couch, my knees weak with the weight of it all. 

"You… you did it," I breathed, shaking my head in disbelief. "Sera, you did it."

She nodded, her smile growing wider, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself believe it. She was one of the top two. She was still in the game.

But the hardest part was yet to come.