Blinded by longing, the queen agreed.
Then a crimson spider lily pushed through the stone at her feet, blooming where no life should grow. In its heart lay a single seed, as dark as blood. The faceless shadow instructed her to swallow the seed and plant it within her womb. Months later, the queen bore a daughter as radiant as dawn, as beautiful as a rose.
But the babe lay silent in her arms without breath.
The shadow appeared in the queen’s mirror and offered a spindle, claiming it would give her life. Desperate, the queen obeyed. She pierced her daughter’s finger, and at once, the princess gasped for air, her cry like a tolling bell. The kingdom celebrated the princess’s birth for several days.
But no gift of from the darkness is ever given freely.
The faceless shadow then proclaimed the princess would grow in grace and beauty; develop great power the world would behold. But this life of hers was borrowed, the magic inher veins belonged to him. And when the Blood Moon returned in twenty years, he would return to reclaim it, too.
The Queen wept and pleaded, but he made clear the princess was not meant for this world, for her presence alone defied fate.”
A horrified chill washed over Alora.
“Born with the blood of two gods, she had the ability to spread calamity across the lands as well as bless them, so powerful that she could even break the manacles keeping him bound to the Abyss.
And the faceless shadow would not be denied his freedom.
Realizing too late she had been tricked into bearing a child meant for sacrifice, the queen bitterly wept. To defy him meant her death, yet she would not let him have her daughter. She fell ill with madness, seeing shadows in mirrors and screaming of his coming. Before her death, in between slips of clarity, the Queen bound her daughter’s magic and sent her away to an enchanted forest with the fairies, in hopes the princess would remain hidden from the darkness forever.”
Lady Zinnia turned around, sorrow glimmering in her eyes.
The world tilted beneath her, the edges of the tale scraping like thorns against her ribs.
Rune had lied to her.
Lied to her about everything.
Rage and sadness flooded her chest, strangling her.
“He killed my mother?”
Lady Zinnia sighed. “She was never meant to bear a child touched by such forces, Alora. The repercussions were a curse in itself.”
She sat back in her chair, trembling.
Rune’s words circled her mind.I have made many bargains in my lifetime, and I remember each one. I did not bargain with your mother.
He promised never to lie to her, but somehow, he had.
“Your mother made me swear to protect you in the Midlands where you could be hidden from all outside entities. And if that were the end of it, we might have escaped the worst of it… but mortals are never so wise.”
Alora blinked. “What do you mean?”
Zinnia gaze returned to the window. “Calveron’s fleet arrived on your father’s shores, threatening war. But Thalion was no king. He was one of many consorts to the Summer Queen and had no hopes of ever sitting on a throne.”
“So, he came for my father’s.”
“No, the conquest for Argyle was merely a front. They came here for the same reason we fled Arthal. For our bloodline. Should any of his offspring be wed to one bearing the blood of the gods, it would have given him the power to claim the Summer Court for himself. So, he set his sights on your brother first.”
“My brother?” Alora’s eyes widened. “But… that would mean...”
Zinnia nodded. “Delphi is your aunt.”
The third sister.
Alora sat back in her seat, stunned. The pieces were falling in place faster than she could understand.
