Everything was cloaked in thick smoke. Riona couldn’t see her own hand in front of her face. The explosion had been massive—exactly the kind of blast that should have sent her straight into one of her infamous fainting spells.
But for the second ti in her long, long entire life, she didn’t pass out after detonating.
What kind of miracle was this? She had no idea. Since fleeing Eira, this was the first ti she’d unleashed that level of power. If there was an explanation, it had to be tied to the Blood Moon child’s influence.
Maybe Thorin’s help in controlling the Blood Moon child had done more than stabilize that side of her—it might have made her better at managing her power altogether.
She made a ntal note to thank him for that later. A peck on the cheek? No, scratch that—a proper kiss. Definitely sothing he’d appreciate.
Ugh, she missed him so much it physically hurt.
But then ca the guilt spiral. Trudy. Oh no. What about Trudy? If Thorin found out about what happened to her—what Riona had done to her, would he be mad? Furious? Disappointed?
The thought churned in Riona’s head, and soon enough, her inner monologue had taken a nosedive into catastrophic overthinking.
It was her fault. Everything was her fault, wasn’t it? What if everyone turned their backs on her?
Not that they’d be wrong to, she mused bitterly. Honestly, she wouldn’t bla them. Who wants a ticking ti bomb for a friend anyway?
"Ngh...!!!"
The sound ca from Riona’s right—a weak, pitiful noise that was sowhere between a groan and a plea for attention.
Rising to her feet, she squinted into the haze, waving her hands like an amateur magician trying to part the clouds. The effort was more desperate than effective, but she trudged toward the noise anyway.
The groaning continued, relentless and pathetic, as if whoever it was had decided to forgo actual words in favor of dramatic misery. Clearly, they were banking on Riona’s pity—or at least her curiosity.
When she finally found the source, her breath hitched. Beneath a pile of rubble lay Nina. Oh, how the mighty had literally fallen.
The lower half of her body was trapped under debris, her right arm pinned, and one of her eyes swollen shut from what looked like a fresh slash. The single eye that could still open blinked with so much effort.
"You’re... strong," Nina croaked, her voice weak but laced with grudging acknowledgnt.
It was probably the first ti she’d ever managed a complint without lacing it with venom because she was too weak to be an.
"I am," Riona replied flatly, towering over Nina with all the confidence of soone who just walked into their enemy’s ultimate failure. She didn’t even bother to fake modesty.
The satisfaction was electric. Just monts ago, Nina had been the queen, lording over her from a literal throne. Now that throne was dust, and Nina was on the ground—lower than low, utterly powerless.
"You’re... just like... him," Nina rasped, each word dragged out.
Riona tilted her head, genuinely impressed that Nina, battered, trapped, and bleeding, still opted for cryptic remarks over the far more logical request for help.
Classic Nina—if pride were a currency, she’d be richer than the throne she used to sit on.
Riona leaned in, arms crossed, savoring the mont like fine artificial blood from the Crimson Vitae Workshop. "What? Because I’m strong? Hate to break it to you, but my mom was strong too. It’s kind of a family thing. You should’ve done your howork."
"No," Nina shot back. And then she paused.
There was a long, overly dramatic pause—probably because Nina had to ration what little energy she had left.
Whatever was coming next, Riona figured it had to be profound. Maybe a long-overdue apology? A desperate plea for rcy? A confession of all her misdeeds?
Finally, Nina managed, "You’re hard to... kill."
Riona blinked. For a second, she didn’t know whether to laugh or be insulted. She opened her mouth, ready to deliver a cutting remark, but stopped herself.
Sarcasm could wait—there was sothing much more important she needed to know.
Normally, Nina would rather chew off her own arm than answer a direct question, but considering her current situation—pinned under rubble, blood leaking out of her like a waterfall—Riona figured this might be her one shot at the truth.
"Did you kill my parents?" Riona asked, her voice cold and sharp.
Nina’s hatred for Remus had been anything but subtle. She had hated him publicly, gleefully, like it was a sport. Revenge wouldn’t have been out of character for her.
In fact, murdering Riona’s parents to send a ssage was exactly the kind of villainous drama Nina lived for. It was possible. It was probable.
Instead of a straightforward answer, Nina attempted a laugh that sounded like a dying goat choking on its own lungs. It didn’t quite land as a sinister villain laugh. She just sounded pathetic.
"I wish," she rasped before coughing up blood. Crimson poured from her mouth, dripping down to her neck. The tallic scent of blood thickened the air. "He beat to it."
He?
Riona leaned in. "Who is ’he’?" Her patience was starting to wear thin. This was not the ti for dramatic mystery.
But Nina, of course, was just being Nina—why would she make things easy? Just because Nina couldn’t hurt her physically didn’t an she couldn’t get under Riona’s skin.
Nina let out a laugh that sounded like it might tear her lungs out. But she didn’t care—she just kept on laughing. She had no intention of answering. Blood and laughter seed to be having a race to see which one would spill out of Nina’s mouth first.
Riona, now thoroughly done with this nonsense, grabbed Nina’s collar and gave her a good shake—not enough to snap her neck, of course—she still needed to get so answers, and she was pretty sure neck-severing wasn’t the best thod for interrogation.
"Speak!" she demanded, through gritted teeth.
But Nina wasn’t about to give Riona the satisfaction. She coughed, laughed, and then vomited blood. The whole scene was a never-ending loop of disgusting theatrics, and Nina seed perfectly content to drag it out.
Riona clenched her fists. Fine. She’d had enough. If Nina wanted to be a pain, she could stay here to rot.
Riona hoped the last hour of Nina’s life was filled with a ton of regret for all the people she’d wronged. But then again, she knew that was a lot to hope for.
"Goodbye, Nina," Riona said, forcing herself to sound cool and composed, though internally, she was about one wrong move away from losing it. "May I never see you again."
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