I couldn’t prevent the sob that came from me then, the tears falling on his fancy court jacket.
“I feared I’d never get this chance,” he continued raggedly. “That the time would never come, and I’d have to go my whole life without ever having my twin back beside me. As we were meant to be.”
I hugged him tighter, unsure of what to even say. It was so overwhelming that I found myself completely at a loss. I pulled back to look at him, seeing tears tracking down his face. I reached up to wipe them away, smiling through my own. We both laughed slightly.
“I’m so glad we finally got the chance.” I finally told him, and he cupped my cheeks, leaning forward to kiss my forehead, before stepping back.
Aurelia stepped forward then, tears streaming down her crumpled face as she sobbed, “Asteria. My darling girl.”
I was still so unsure how to feel about her, but my heart wrenched seeing the obvious pain she was exuding. Arien stepped toward her, but I moved quicker, standing in front of her.
“Hi,” I whispered, wringing my hands together.
“I know I have so much to explain, but—” Aurelia tried to gather herself together, “But I haven’t had the chance to hold you since you were born. Could I please hug you?” Her voice cracked, and she lifted a hand to cover her mouth to try to contain her sobs.
My own face creased, trying to hold in my own, not wanting to cry further. But as I nodded and my birth mother gathered me into her arms, I couldn’t stop the silent tears.
The warm feeling one got being in their mother’s arms encompassed me, and I felt strangely like a child again.
“My little star,” she whispered as she held me, and I froze.
“What?” I asked, pulling back to look at her. “What did you call me?”
“My little star.” Aurelia smiled slightly, a bit confused. “That's why I named you Asteria. You came out of the womb shining like a star, my love.”
“That’s what—” I tried, but my voice cracked, forcing me to clear my throat. “That's what my moth—the woman who raised me, called me.”
Aurelia nodded stiffly. “I’m not surprised. Did she give you the necklace as well?”
I stiffened, reaching into the pocket of my dress. “The necklace?”
She smiled, but it was strained. “I put it together when you were born. Something to keep both me, and your soulmark, with you.”
Pieces fell into place, and it felt like the world that had been smashed into thousands of fragments around me when I discovered I was Fae, suddenly rearranged themselves to fit back together, only to form something completely new this time.
“You made this?” I whispered, pulling the necklace from my pocket, letting the pendant with the moon, sun, and stars dangle from my hand.
Calix sucked in a breath in the background, but my own emotions were too riotous to figure out his right now.
She sniffed, nodding with a trembling smile, “I did. I hated having to send you away, Asteria. It broke my heart completely. I wanted nothing more than to raise you myself, but I was forced to hand you over to someone else. I couldn’t just let you go, though. I needed to know there was something still there, connecting us together. The blind hope of a mother, maybe.”
She scoffed slightly at herself, shaking her head, “But it was all I could think of. A piece of Day to keep with you, thanks to the silverium and the star opal, and your soulmark, to connect you back to your Fae heritage.”
I looked from her to the necklace, mumbling to myself, “And to Night.”
She may not have realized it, but the necklace connected me to Night just as much Day. A piece of each kingdom with me always. A piece of my motheranda piece of Calix.
“Why?” I demanded, looking back up at her. “Whydid you have to send me away?”
Her face crumpled, and Arien put a hand on her shoulder. The bolt of resentment I felt at the clearly close relationship they shared, something I was cut out of, surprised me. But as Calix came up behind me, putting a hand on my lower back, I let it ebb away for now.
Aurelia watched Calix as he supported me, and narrowed her eyes, but merely said, “Let’s take a seat. I can explain everything to you.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Aurelia
Twenty-one yearsago
