CHAPTER FIVE
Despite Caelian’s best efforts, she was unable to give Ariesian a piece of her mind, as he’d apparently been called to the palace in Terensel for business regarding Queen Elowyn’s High Council. Considering she was the second youngest of eight siblings, such matters were rarely discussed with her, but it annoyed her beyond measure to know that her brother had agreed to ship her off to Brackroth as Kjeld’s escort. She would be absolutely useless in a place such as that, and given all the unsavory stories she’d heard, it did not sound at all like somewhere she would enjoy. A city that boasted gloomy weather and a constant chill in the air hardly seemed like her cup of tea. Not to mention the fact that it was the home of dragons, witches, and at one point, Ariesian had refused to allow her to visit at all.
Now, he seemed determined to be rid of her.
Well, if what Kjeld said was true, and Caelian would be forced to accompany him to Brackroth, then at least he had agreed to take her to Wenfyre. A tiny shred of silver lining to the dismal outlook smothering the entire situation. Ready to prepare herself for the inevitable, just in case, Caelian took solace in the library to decipher the letters she uncovered while having research at the tip of her fingers, should the need arise.
It was a necessary lesson in preparation, as hours after the sun dipped below the horizon, she found herself surrounded by dozens of books on Druidic lore, maps of faraway lands, and a platter of assorted fruits and sweets. She pored over her discoveries, attempting to make sense of each letter with the utmost care. Unfortunately, her translations were rudimentary at best. All she was able to gather was that each note was written in the same intricate handwriting, and it appeared to be some sort of correspondence between someone in Wenfyre and her mother. Granted, she hoped for more answers, or at least to make a bit of headway in her analysis, but the day wasn’t a total loss.
Between sips of blackberry lemonade and half a dozen or so raspberry cream cookies, she somehow managed to learn a great deal about Druids, while barely being able to understand any of it.
Most of Druidic lore was passed down through oral recollections and storytelling, which meant most of the books Caelian spent the day absorbing were filled with the same sorts of information. The natural world was sacred, as Druids honored the land, the sky, and the sea. They gathered in forests and meadows to pay homage to the Eldergrove, a majestic ash tree that was thousands of years old and the source of all life. She read about the stone circles, many of which were often found in grassy meadows or deep in forests, and were considered a likeness to faerie circles, except the stones acted as portals to other worlds. To other times. It seemed Wenfyre was a realm of living, breathing magic. Where rivers held ancient knowledge, where mountains passed judgement, and where the stars whispered secrets.
It sounded like the perfect place for her.
A dream-like world where she could hear the chaos of the heavens once more. Where maybe her magic would return, and she could grant wishes again.
Caelian glanced out the window on the far fall, where ribbons of twilight stretched across the Moonfall Peaks, where the stars danced in the ink of the night sky. Hours were lost to her now, so she tidied up the letters and organized her notes. Stretching, she raised her arms overhead and stifled a yawn as the door to the library groaned open on a gentle creak, and her twin sister’s silhouette appeared.
“There you are.” Creslyn glided into the library in a gown of crushed silver velvet, the glow of the hearth casting her in a complexity of golden light and empty shadows. “I’ve searched everywhere for you.”
“Obviously not everywhere,” Caelian countered smoothly, “as I’ve been in the library all day.”
She didn’t intend for her words to sting, but Creslyn bristled in spite of them.
There was a time, Caelian could recall, when she and her twin shared every aspect of themselves with one another. But all that changed when Creslyn married Drake. It was understandable, of course. They were bonded. Fated. Of course Creslyn would lean into the comfort of her husband, of course she would share those pieces of herself she kept hidden from the rest of the world. Caelian expected nothing less, yet she hadn’t imagined the shift would happen so quickly. For some reason, she thought they would have more time together. As sisters. As twins. Before marriage pulled them apart.
And as much as Caelian didn’t want to admit it, she supposed it was the undercurrent of jealousy that made it unbearable. She always imagined she and Creslyn would be married at the same time, that they would be doing all the darling married couple things together. But whereas Creslyn had found a dark anddelicious kind of love with Drake, Caelian was left reeling from the aftermath of a humiliating rejection.
“Apologies, Cae.” Creslyn ran a hand through her midnight hair, the ribbons of rich pink, sparkling blue, and bright lavender appearing more vivid in the glow of firelight. “I didn’t think you much cared for the library.”
“I don’t.” She’d never been much of a reader, it was always their brother Tovian whose love for books surpassed all else. For Caelian, her mind was always too loud to focus on written words. But now, with the harsh quiet echoing, reading was somewhat manageable. “I was just doing some light research.”
Creslyn’s dark blue gaze skimmed the piles of books, stacks of notes, and bundles of letters. “Light? It looks as though you’re about to write an entire essay on…”
She scooped up one of the books, running her fingers over the embossed gold lettering of the title. “The Song of Rites?”
Caelian stood, shoving up from the leather settee where she’d been comfortably seated for entirely too long. Her bottom hurt and her legs were tense, but at least she’d managed to rid herself of that obnoxiously painful dress. She’d opted for powder blue satin instead, which draped off her shoulders with a bodice of teardrop-shaped pearls and diamonds. Not as comfortable as she would prefer, but at least she could breathe. Unfolding herself from the settee, she ignored the wrinkles in her skirts and faced her sister.
“Yes, it’s about seasonal rites in Druidic lore.” Caelian slipped her heeled shoes back onto her feet, ignoring the way they pinched her toes. “Quite fascinating, really.”
“Druidic lore?” Creslyn’s brows lifted in interest, and she flipped through the book, her fingers fanning through the thin, gossamer pages. “Since when have you taken up an interest in the ways of Druids?”
“Since I learned our mother was one and lied to us about it. Since I realized that all of us are half Druid and half fae.” Caelian winced, recoiling at the disdain dripping from her voice. She hated that she was being so short, so coarse with her twin sister. It wasn’t Creslyn’s fault she expended too much of her magic, that she could slowly feel herself fading with each passing day. It was the consequence of her own doing, of her own desires.
She didn’t expect anyone to understand.
Creslyn snapped the book closed. “Do you wish for me to leave?”
“No. No, of course not. I just…” Caelian inhaled deeply, curling her fingers into her palms to keep from fidgeting with her dress. “It’s difficult for me.”
“What’s difficult?” Creslyn tilted her head to one side, a tiny line crinkling across her brow.
“The small talk. The forced conversation. The lack of noise.” She shook her head, pressing her lips together tightly as her nose started to tingle and burn. She blinked away the threat of tears, because pleading with the stars was a useless endeavor.
They had not forgiven her.
Creslyn’s gaze softened, and she stepped forward. Setting the book on the nearest table, she walked into Caelian’s space and placed her hands upon her shoulders. “I know you’ve been struggling, I can see it on the outside. But I didn’t realize the source of your hardship was coming from within. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
