“That’s enough, Nyxian,” Solarius scolded, glaring at his youngest brother who was propped against the hearth on the opposite side of the room. “Just because you’re pissed off about your upcoming wedding doesn’t mean you can take it out on the rest of us.”
Nyxian ignored him, instead turning his attention to Caelian. “Darling sister, if you have nothing else of importance you wish to share with us, I would very much like to excuse myself.”
He flicked the blade closed and tucked it into the pocket of his pants. “I much prefer the company of my bed to people at the moment.”
“Please stay, Nyx.” Caelian rolled her lips together and glanced around the room. “There are other, not so pleasant matters I need to share with all of you.”
Caelian had already regaled them with the story of the Myrkwild, as it seemed necessary to explain how she and Kjeld came to be married. And she talked about how the magic of the forest made it so only the truth was ever spoken. The story of the Caelora Bay and the powerful return of her magic flowed with ease, because it brought her so much joy. But she found that when it came time to mention the River Thalorien and the memory stone, her throat was suddenly thick and the words didn’t form properly.
“First, I need to tell you why I wanted to travel to Wenfyre.” She felt Kjeld’s hand move from her shoulder to the nape of her neck, where again he offered a comforting squeeze in a silent show of support. Ariesian and Solarius came around to sit in the chairs opposite her, and Asher moved to stand behind Novalise. “I didn’t ask Kjeld to take me there because we finished in Brackroth and needed to bide our time until the end of the Midsummer season. We went there because I wanted to learn more about Mother. I wanted to uncover why she…why she killed our father. And…”
She met Ariesian’s steely gaze from across the room.
“And I wanted to prove my worth. Even without magic.” She paused, refusing to look away from him. “I wanted you to be proud of me.”
Ariesian’s face shuttered and he opened his mouth to object, but Solarius elbowed him firmly in the ribs.
“Make your amends another time,” he muttered, glaring at Ariesian.
“Before I left, I went through Mother’s desk to see what I could find.” There it was again, that knot of dread clogging the back of her throat. She attempted to swallow around it, but thistime it was accompanied by uncomfortable pressure building in her chest. The same weight, the same gnawing sensation that something awful was going to happen. Or like she’d already done something wrong, she just couldn’t remember what. She sucked in a labored breath and continued. “I found an oak leaf pendant made of bone, an engraved river stone, and some letters.”
She fisted her skirts, twisting them around her fingers, and Sarelle carefully placed her hand on top of Caelian’s.
“What sort of letters?” Tovian asked, roughing his knuckles along the underside of his youthful jaw. “Did our mother write in detail about how much she abhorred the very existence of us?”
His callous remark was met with derision and agreement from their siblings, but Caelian’s heart squeezed even tighter, and she clutched Sarelle’s hand. Her sister’s head whipped in her direction, but Caelian didn’t possess the nerve to meet her scrutinizing gaze.
“No.” She choked out the word, her voice hoarse and gravelly, like wet sand had been poured down her throat. “No, they were love letters. Between Mother and…and Father.”
The sitting room fell silent at her admission.
There were no mocking jeers, no easy laughs, no bitter comments. Only the crackling of a dying fire in the hearth as it spit its final flames. Every pair of eyes focused on her, most as familiar to her as her own, yet she could not bring herself to meet anyone’s gaze. She feared what she would find, what she would see reflected at her.
“I’m sorry.” Novalise adjusted herself so she sat up straighter, and Asher took the empty plate from her lap. “Did you say love letters?”
Caelian could only nod.
“Cae.” It was Ariesian who spoke. Calm. Cool. As collected as ever. He leaned forward in the winged chair and steepled his hands together. “I’m going to need you to explain, please.”
Sarelle tightened her hold on Caelian’s hand, and Kjeld bent over her, planting a kiss on her temple.
“Very well.” Pleading with the stars for strength, she told her family what she’d discovered.
Caelian detailed everything, from the markings on the stone to the memories she witnessed when she stood ankle-deep in the River Thalorien. She tried to explain the scenes from their mother’s past, but she was certain her words could never convey the amount of love that was poured into those brief glimpses of time. A devastating swell of emotion crushed her as she struggled to describe their parents’ wedding and the look of absolute fear on Trysta’s face when Queen Elowyn delivered her that life-changing ultimatum. She blew out a shaky breath and outlined her theories next. How it was her belief their parents truly loved each other, and in turn, each one of them. How Caelian surmised Queen Elowyn was to blame for all of it, whether she forced Trysta to do her bidding, or somehow brainwashed her, or held her captive under some kind of charm or spell.
At first, she worried her brothers and sisters might not believe her, but that was before she mentioned Queen Elowyn was Morwyn’s aunt. She could see the understanding dawn on the faces of her siblings and watched in real time as the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. And when she told them how Queen Elowyn sought to ruin Wenfyre, and how she set her sights on Aeramere instead, the rise of tempers and raw fury simmering in the space between them reached a boil.
She could see it when she looked at each one of them. The unimaginable hurt and budding regret. The overwhelming anger and the hunger for revenge. But worse, the crush of grief in knowing they were robbed of a mother who loved them.
“Fucking stars,” Nyxian spat, wiping the back of his fist near his eye, and Tovian slung an arm around his shoulders.
“We didn’t know.” Solarius scrubbed both hands over his face, tipping his head back in his seat. “We didn’t fucking know.”
“So she…Mother, she loved us. Once, and maybe only briefly.” Silent tears slipped down Novalise’s cheeks, and she dabbed at them with Asher’s proffered handkerchief. “But she did love us.”
“Perhaps she loved you through it,” Narissa suggested, offering her slice of cake to Novalise, who took a healthy bite. “Maybe she wasn’t able, or capable, of physically showing it for whatever reason. But maybe in her mind, she never stopped.”
Solarius rolled his head to the side, his silver gaze sweeping over his wife. “You mean to imply that her conscious mind was aware of her love for us but that she could do nothing about it?”
