The Last Princess [EDITED]

Chapter 23

OUR group consisted of seven people — the four of us, Pecan Ainsley — who was one of the best soldiers, a rebel woman who I'd been told was one of the best fighters, and a senior man who was also remarkably good with both weapons and the Forest.

The groups were small, to avoid too many elves being captured or dying if Ivy found them, but I knew that we'd been given the best fighters because they needed to protect me. Given they thought I was powerful.

Despite me barely being able to use the Forest after I'd defeated Birch and his soldiers.

After a tearful goodbye with Grove, Meadow and Birch, we'd set off into the Forest. It was a long trek, too many days to count.

The rebel woman was Aster, much older than us and unmarried. This fact did not seem to chafe her much. According to her, the time that a husband and children would have taken helped in improving her swordplay, leaving her one of the best fighters in camp.

We traipsed through the Forest, stopping once it had turned dark, because Terran Lark, our group leader, had realized that we needed to rest after Maple had tripped and not woken up.

Arden set her down on a soft patch of moss while Terran muttered about how she needed training. I was proud that he didn't feel the same way about me, though I was sorry for Maple.

Aiden and I had first watch, both of us being much too stubborn to let the others stay up. They slept on the rolls they'd carried with them, while Aiden and I sat side-by-side, leaning on a tree.

"Here," Aiden said, passing me a staff. I gave him a curious look. "I kept this because I wanted to practice. You can start."

I gave him a nod and grasped the staff. I closed my eyes, almost afraid of what I would see, if Nalvia came back.

The darkness under my eyelids changed to an aura of gold. I recognized it, because I had seen this figure before.

Nalvia

Yes. You must understand. I do not have much time.

Understand what? I asked.

Her golden figure dissipated like before. Like she was showing me another vision.

Why are you showing me this?

See.

My eyelids were still closed, but I saw what she wanted me to see. Another vision of my parents.

They were in a room.

Just the two of them, alone- but not quite. The chamber was massive. It could have seemed empty, but it was quite full of happy energy pulsing through the room.

Ivy sat in the large bed, blankets covering her, as Rowan sat next to her, both of their eyes focused on something in Ivy's arms, obscured from me by Ivy's long, dark hair, hanging over it.

I shifted, and it became clear what they were staring at. A baby.

A young child, wrapped in white, a tuft of light brown hair already growing out of its forehead. Laurel? It had to be. She was their firstborn. She gurgled happily as Ivy rocked her back and forth gently.

"Let me hold her." My father said gently.

Ivy smiled up at him and said, "Careful."

She passed Laurel to him. He stared down in wonder at the baby, tenderness written all over his regal face. "She's beautiful," he breathed.

"That she is." Ivy agreed.

"What should we name her?" Rowan asked, tilting his head to the side.