“I need you to know,” she says suddenly, her voice thick with emotion. “How incredibly proud I am of you, little moon.”
I turn to face her fully. “Mother?—”
“Twenty-eight years,” she continues, and tears gather in her eyes. “Twenty-eight years of planning, of sacrifice, of wondering if I could ever make it right. And look at you now.” She gestures at my golden gown, at the ceremonial splendour. “You’re about to be crowned Solar Sovereign. A good leader. A just ruler. Everything I tried and failed to create before.”
The words settle over me like ice water.
“I can be redeemed now,” she says, and her voice breaks with relief. “All those years of guilt, of knowing what I created in him – it’s finally balanced. You’re proof that I didn’t completely fail.”
“Mother, what are you?—”
“I need you to understand.” She crosses to me, gripping my hands. “Before you walk through those doors, before you become queen, you need to know the whole truth. About your father. About what I did.”
My heart pounds. “Mother, please, I?—”
“I need you to know that I learned from my mistakes, that with you, I did everything differently...” Her eyes are desperate, searching mine.
“Differently from what?”
She takes a shaky breath, her hands trembling in mine.
“Your father was nineteen when he took the throne,” she begins, words spilling out in a rush. “I was summoned to his court just before his Conclave. He didn’t stand a chance of winning, he was too young and inexperienced. So, I … I gave him my ideas on how he could win. And hedidwin, with my guidance. I thought I could redeem myself … yes, we didhorriblethings to win the Conclave, but if it meant in the end that we could have the power to make the entire systembetter? Then it was worth it. And my visions, they – I couldn’tsee, Cyra. I couldn’t decipher them, I didn’t know…”
“Mother—”
“But once he was sovereign,” Her grip tightens. “He went right back to being weak. The other Houses started to notice, they took advantage of him … disrespected him…”
The world seems to tilt.
“I saw his potential,” she continues desperately. “I saw what he could become if he just learned to wield his power properly. So I taught him – I showed him how to weaponize his sun magic to gain the respect he needed.”
I can no longer form words.
“I didn’t understand about the addiction.” Tears spill down her cheeks now. “I didn’t realize that every time he used it, he’d need to use it more. That the power would consume him.”
The confession crashes over me like a wave.
“You made him into a monster,” I breathe.
She’s openly crying now. “I thought I was helping him be strong. I thought I was protecting him. But all I did was create the Sun King … the tyrant who terrorized the entire system for decades, always hungry for power and pain.”
My mind reels, trying to process what she’s saying.
“Then – I found out I was pregnant with you, little moon,” she continues. “By then, your father had become someone cruel and unstable. Astrid’s mother warned me to flee – she saw what was coming. She told me he’d either kill the baby or twist it into something like himself.”
“So you ran.”
“So I ran.” The guilt in her voice is crushing. “When he realized I was gone, it broke something in him permanently. He ordered the execution of all the Daughters of the Moon, so that I would be alone … or hunted down and killed myself. Astrid’s mother died because of what I created, Cyra. Hundreds of others – my moon sisters – paid the price for my mistakes.”
I can’t breathe. Can’t think. Everything I thought I understood about my parents, about myself, has been built on lies.
“But withyou,” Mother says, her voice gaining strength through the tears, “I did everything differently. I taught you healing instead of pain. I emphasized compassion instead of cruelty. I tried so hard to find a cure to your addiction so you wouldn’t spiral like he did. I gave you the tools to be good, to bejust, to be everything he wasn’t.”
She grips my face in both hands, forcing me to look at her.
“And itworked,” she says fiercely. “You’re proof that I could guide someone toward light instead of darkness. That my teaching methods weren’t fundamentally flawed – it was justhim, his weakness, his corruption. You’re myredemption, Cyra.”
The terrible irony of it crashes over me.
