“Are gods usually reborn so quickly?” she asked as they rounded a corner, passing a few soldiers who nodded respectfully at Morgen but did not really look at her. “My brother was only born a year before Carus was supposedly reborn.”
Morgen didn’t answer right away, his expression contemplative. “I’m not sure the amount of time is important. The Fates just pull souls back into the world when it’s their time again.”
After that, neither of them spoke until they reached Carus, lingering in front of the room where Nya’s parents were and looking bored.
“Anything to report?” Morgen asked casually, but Nya could hear the tension in his voice at the end of the words.
Carus shrugged. “Not really. They’re pretty boring prisoners for being heirs. Just a lot of hushed talking.”
Morgen nodded, and Nya’s stomach whooshed as she really allowed herself to look at Carus. Morgen was right. He could absolutely be her brother.
“Why are you both looking at me like that?” Carus ventured, eyes narrowing.
Morgen shifted, his boots scuffing on the stone floor. “Nya had a dream, which I saw.”
“Really?” Carus mused, though his voice hardened, his tone almost cold, and for a moment, Nya felt like she was the one missing something here.
“Yes. It was amemory,” Morgen said firmly. “One I was unaware of.”
Carus raised a brow. “Okay?”
Morgen glanced at her, and she took a deep breath, realizing he wanted her to continue. “I had a brother,” she forced herself to tell him. “But he didn’t live. He was stillborn.”
Carus stiffened. “My condolences, but I’m not sure why you’re telling me this.”
“He was born when I was five, about twenty-one years ago. Morgen told me you don’t think your mortal parents were your original birth parents.”
“Why would you tell her that?” Carus snapped, silver flashing in his eyes. Though she didn’t know him well, Nya had a feeling he didn’t often get angry like this, at least not visibly.
Morgen didn’t balk though, replying calmly, “I started to have suspicions when I saw her father. Nya’s memory just confirmed them.”
“What does her father have to do with?—”
“You look just like him, Carus.”
“I look like a lot of people.” He paused, jaw clenching, and when he continued, his voice was quiet. “I’ve been searching faces my whole life. It doesn’t usually mean much.”
“And how ironic that the one time you’re not looking close enough, it’s exactly who you’ve been looking for.”
Carus shook his head, backing away like he was going to run. But for him, for herself, for her parents who had lost a child all those years ago, Nya called, “Carus. Wait.”
He turned but said nothing, his eyes wide, shining with unshed tears. But he stopped, waiting for her to speak.
“Morgen said you have memories of emotions.” She took a deep breath, trying to soften her voice. “Can you tell me what they were?”
He shook his head, shutting his eyes and muttering, “This is a waste of time.”
“Maybe, but wouldn’t you rather make sure than wonder if you were wrong for the rest of your life?”
He opened his eyes, identical to hers except in their shape, slightly closer to her mother’s. “I remember sadness mostly,but it was almost bittersweet, like…like the sadness felt unfair because it was so entangled with joy.”
He paused, hesitating for so long, she thought he wouldn’t continue. Eventually, he let out a slow breath, unfurling his fisted hands.
“There were words too. Just one phrase. I never told anyone, because I was sure that after looking for so long, I’d probably just made them up because Iwantedto remember something.”
“Maybe you did,” she said quietly, tilting her head. “Still, what were they?”
Carus didn’t look at her, his voice barely a hoarse whisper. “He looks just like you.”
