A sharp breath presses against my ribs, but I don’t let it out. My head swims.
“She was meant for nobility, Celeste. Our family had ambitions for her, plans for her future. A child out of wedlock would have destroyed all of that.” He shakes his head slightly. “So our parents—your grandparents—they kept it a secret. And your mother had no choice but to leave the child behind.”
The world tilts.
My mother. The woman who sang to me, who pressed kisses to my forehead, who stroked my hair when I cried. The woman who never once made me feel like I wasn’t enough.
She’d had a child before Bennett and me. A whole other life.
I clear my throat, my voice hoarse. “And then?”
“She traveled to Delasurvia, a young, eligible debutante. And then she met Axel.”
I flinch at my father’s name.
Kormak exhales slowly. “She fell in love again. Or perhaps she convinced herself she had. He courted her, made promises. He was a prince. A future king. Here was the promise of a secure life. When he asked for her hand, she saidyes. But she never told him about the boy.”
My stomach twists violently. This is too much. Too big. It changes everything I thought I knew. And it means that Iama third-born fae.
I force my voice to stay steady. “Is he still alive? My… brother?”
Kormak meets my gaze, unflinching. “As far as I know, he is.”
My breath shudders out of me. A brother. I have a brother.
The thought crashes into me, ice and fire at once, setting my pulse into a spiral. I press a hand to my chest, as if that might stop the unsteady thudding beneath my ribs.
“Did Bennett know?” I ask, barely above a whisper.
Kormak shakes his head. “No. Your mother intended to tell you both when the time was right. But then…” His voice trails off. He doesn’t have to say it.
She never got the chance. She died.
Something inside me cracks.
I blink rapidly, but the tears spill over, anyway, slipping hot down my cheeks. I don’t sob, but my breathing becomes uneven, my fingerstrembling against my lap.
Kormak moves before I can retreat into myself, reaching across the space between us. He crouches down and takes my hand, his grip steady, grounding. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I was sworn to secrecy. I couldn’t tell you.”
I swallow hard, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment, trying to gather the broken pieces of my world into something recognizable. But nothing looks the same anymore.
Kormak exhales slowly, his fingers still curled around mine, as if afraid I might slip through his grasp.
“This is extremely sensitive, Celeste,” he says, voice low, edged with something grim. “No one else can know. If the tsar were to find out that you are third-born—” He stops, his jaw tightening. “The target already on your back would change dramatically.”
A bitter laugh slips from me, quiet but sharp. “Because I could be the one to end him?” I swipe the dampness from my cheeks, inhaling through the knot in my throat.
Could the prophecy really be about me? Not only as the one the tsar needs to rule the world, but also as the one who could destroy him? It does seem like a sardonic paradox.
“Well, then I can end the slaughter.” I straighten my shoulders. “I’ll march into Dulcamar and tell the Shadow Tsar that I’m the one he’s looking for, that the prophecy is about me and he can call off his fucking monsters and stop terrorizing the realms. It can all end.”
“No, Celeste.” He rubs at his neck. “That’s not how prophecies work. He can’t know, because—father or not—he will kill you if he finds out. And if he killsyou—the one who is supposed to end his reign—then our hope is lost. And the precious realms will die, anyway.”
Frustration boils within me. It feels like the right thing to do, a simple way to end the massacres. No more attacks. No more sacrifices. But my uncle is right. If the prophecy is about me, if I’m the one who is supposed to end the tsar’s reign, then I can’t just march up there emptyhanded. He’s got a whole realm protecting him. He’s manufactured an entire species of creature to do his bidding. I need tohave a plan. An army. I need to figure out how to destroy his whole undertaking, and I won’t be able to do that on my own.
“The thing is,” my uncle continues, “it wouldn’t surprise me if your father turns out to be the tsar, because he showed signs of desiring power, spoke of expanding his reign, even before your mother died.” He stands and starts to pace. “It’s part of the reason he was against the sirens. Their mind manipulation would have been a problem if he’d ever wanted to take Messanya.”
He lets out a deep breath, as if he’s not done turning my world upside down yet.
