And why he tried to silence Fairon when my brother got too close to finding out what had happened.
As if I’ve summoned him, I hear my brother’s careful footsteps behind me. He doesn’t speak right away, coming to stand beside me, examining the surface of the lake.
“Did Ana send you?” I ask eventually.
“She didn’t want you to be alone,” he says evenly.
I feel a surge of love for the woman. It’s a new thing—feeling so loved, socared for. I used to be the one always doing the protecting in my life; now, I finally have someone I’d give the world to keep safe, andshe’sthe one saving me, in every way.
“I wasn’t surprised, when Phaia told me about the mooring,” Fairon says, still keeping his eyes on the water.
“We had to do it,” I explain, braced for his disapproval. “Otherwise, Ana would’ve died and Caledon would’ve gotten everything he wanted.”
“That may be true, but something tells me you would have ended up there one way or another, with or without the Temple.” He shakes his head, but his tone isn’t angry. “All those warnings I gave you about it—I should’ve known better.”
“You forget how many times I’ve ignored your warnings before,” I say.
“I was so worried Grandfather would use you to manipulate the princess, or the other way round. I could only see it ending in a lot of ugliness and pain for you both.”
We lapse back into silence. I can’t argue with his fears. It’s not like they’re unrealistic.
“It would be a fucking evil thing to do, even for him,” I say at last. We both know I’m not talking about meddling with Ana and me.
“I know. I refused to believe it for a while,” Fairon says gently. “When Ana cured me, the dryads spent weeks filling me full of potions to keep me calm and my mind quiet while I healed. It kept my memory hazy. By the time I recalled the conversation about Agathyre from years before, I thought it couldn’t have any link to the star. After all, if our grandfather wanted me dead,he’d had plenty of opportunities to finish the job after I left the sanctuary.”
“So why didn’t he?” I demand, my voice harsh. Fairon’s familiar enough with my temper that he’s not offended by my tone.
“What does our grandfather care about above all else? What does he tell us is most important—the thing we should protect with everything we have?” Fairon asks.
“The kingdom,” I say without hesitation. He’s drummed the lesson into us our whole lives. Filusia comes first. Some of us have just been better at receiving that lesson than others. Which is why if Respen could avoid killing Fairon, he would.
“You’re still the superior heir,” I say, answering my own question. “As long as you drop the Agathyre issue. Maybe he thought you’d forgotten—or decided to let it go.” I can’t help but give a bitter laugh. “I was such a terrible replacement. He’d risk giving you a second chance to avoid having to deal with me as crown prince. You’re the better choice for Filusia.”
Fairon waves his hand dismissively. “HebelievesI am. Just like he believed Father committed the ultimate crime: disloyalty to the kingdom.”
Fairon is right. Respen cares about the strength of the fae nation above all, and that includes ensuring it has the right leadership and direction. If anything jeopardizes that, like a prince trying to sabotage his king’s goals, then the threat must be removed.
“Why did you wait to tell me?” I ask. “I realize on their own, the plans, the seal, and Kora Frinach might not seem like much. But all together, it’s pretty damn incriminating.”
“I had a lot to weigh up,” Fairon says. “At first, I didn’t know if I could fully believe Ms. Frinach’s story. Maybe she was misleading me, claiming that Respen knew what the star could do. I needed someone like Alastor who could confirm it. I didn’t count on that giving His Majesty the time to organize an assassin to try to silence her.”
“Which means he knows you know,” I point out.
“I don’t think he’s certain she’s spoken to me. Not yet,” Fairon says. “He’s just trying to tie up any loose ends. But he’s certainly been troubled about something recently. Almost as troubled as me.”
He sighs, shaking his head in an unusual display of frustration.
“Besides,” Fairon says, “I couldn’t have moved against him without telling you about my plans.” His voice raises a few decibels as he gestures agitatedly toward the palace. “What if I failed? Grandfather would find another way to have me killed to keep the truth buried. You’d come back and find I’d been murdered by some assassin, or killed in some freak accident. How could I risk leaving you in the dark about what really happened to me—and to Mother and Father?”
He exhales, steadying himself, and I see now how this has been eating my brother alive.
“Honestly,” he continues, “without Tira to confide in, I’m not sure I would’ve withstood the pressure. That woman has been through so much, and yet she’s got more spirit than anyone else I know.”
Fairon has always been so good at keeping himself in check—always calm, always balanced. But living in the shadow of this has almost been too much, even for him. I’m not surprisedit helped to have someone like Tira around to give a little perspective. “I’m here now, too, brother,” I say, placing a hand on his shoulder. “And we can deal with him together.”
Fairon relaxes under my hand, nodding. “I’ve been a fool. You always saw him more clearly. All these years, I thought he was just a wily old man. I knew he saw us as pawns in a larger game, yet still I never thought we were disposable to him. Much lessthis.”
Words fail him for a moment, and then he finds them.
