Chapter 34 #2
“What can I say?” Barberro sighed lovingly. “My love for my vigate actually made my dick grow by two sizes—how could you not get ego from that?”
I tried not to imagine how big Barberro’s dick was, instead refocusing back on the concept of soulmates. Vigates.
“So Fate—who you’re saying is a seamstress for the God of the Cosmos, a real entity—just…what? Gave you and Nara a holy marriage license?”
Barberro nodded, squinting downward. “A holy marriage license that tightens bond between souls into something…radaga. Impenetrable, that is. But like I said, Fate is picky. She doesn’t approve of vast majority of requests, no matter how deep the love might appear to outsiders.
So those of us who are approved to be vigates are usually held in high regard.
You could even bow, if you’d like, girl with curly hair. ”
The growl that ripped out of Steeler cascaded down my spine in tingling little goosebumps.
“If anyone’s bowing to anyone around here, you will do so to her, Barberro.”
The giant of a faerie glanced up, a flicker of surprise lifting his eyebrows.
“When did you get so grouchy, my friend? If she is traitor’s daughter, she won’t be counted as legitimate—”
“I don’t give a damn whose daughter she is,” Steeler said, and somehow, he seemed to loom over Barberro. “Just because the rest of you do doesn’t mean Rayna’s worth anything less than absolute devotion. Now, have you studied that hair long enough?”
By the orchid and the owl. Whatever biting, snarling rage Barberro had made rise within Steeler at his little joke…
I had to admit, I was glad I wasn’t on the end of that withering glare even if the way Steeler bared his fangs made me wonder, once again, what they’d feel like against my neck, down my belly, between my—
“I have memorized genetic patterns in shaft, yes.” Barberro turned to me with a little more hesitation this time, and I was glad for the abrupt change in subject to cleanse my mind. “Now give me strand of yours, girl with curly hair.”
Steeler’s shoulders tensed. His fingers flexed, his stance shifting into a predatory one, like Barberro might turn feral at any moment.
Slowly, I reached for a curl and separated a single hair from the rest.
This was it.
The truth about my mother, once and for all.
The lady from the sea, Velika had said in my memory, who had hair dark as shadows but skin that glowed like honey.
I yanked, feeling the quick sting against my scalp as I pulled the hair free and passed it to Steeler, who passed it to Barberro, who held it up.
And squinted at it.
And laid it down on the table.
And squinted at it some more.
Words clogged up my throat like rocks. I couldn’t attempt a normal conversation anymore, couldn’t think about what I had just learned about Fate when my own fate sat before me in the form of a bald giant with small, hazel eyes.
In the distance, birds called out to each other.
The water tinkled.
The liverworts droned.
I could have sworn Steeler’s heartbeat was thumping in my own ears, his adrenaline seeping into the air around us like a living thing.
You are traitor’s daughter, I could practically hear Barberro saying.
Could practically see him pouncing on me as his oath to the faerie queen forced him into action.
There would be a shout, a blur as Steeler dragged him into darkness, and then silence again.
Silence where I would have to come to terms with the finality of the truth. Rayna Reeve.
At the table, Barberro’s lips curled.
With painstaking slowness, he stood with the coiled strand of my hair pinched between his thumb and forefinger.
Steeler took a step toward him, his hand already raised in preparation. His body practically vibrated with hostility.
But Barberro just looked over his head to meet my eyes.
“Dyonisia Reeve is not your mother, girl with curly hair.”
Steeler dropped his hand. I stumbled back a step, all my blood draining to my toes—in relief or shock, I couldn’t tell.
“W-what?”
Barberro smiled, his fangs glinting bright in the sunlight.
“Dyonisia Reeve is not your mother… but she is your aunt.”
“What?”
That came from Steeler, who furrowed his eyebrows at me, then shot his gaze back to Barberro.
“The queen hasn’t left her castle in the last five hundred years. There’s no way she would have snuck onto the island, got pregnant with a random Object Summoner at the Institute, had a baby, and let a human steal away her only heir.”
As harsh as those words seemed, I had to admit that Steeler was right. If the queen of Sorronia was as powerful as they claimed, Fabian wouldn’t have stood a chance in his endeavor to keep me from the faerie world outside the dome.
Barberro’s smile grew wider as he cocked his head at my hair.
“Indeed. And I have seen Her Majesty’s genetic material many times before—I know it by heart. She is definitely not mother either.”
“Then what the hell do you mean Dyonisia is Rayna’s aunt?”
Barberro only raised his eyebrows at Steeler.
And it seemed to hit both of us at the same exact moment.
“By the orchid and the owl!” I nearly yelped.
“By the moonbeam and the mist,” Steeler said appraisingly, a smile slowly dawning on his face as his eyes painted me up and down with awe. “Rayna Reeve, indeed.”
Yes.
Yes, I was Rayna Reeve, daughter of one of the three royal sisters. Not Dyonisia, but her sister. Not the older one, not the queen, but…
“Chrysanthia,” I whispered.
And Barberro’s smug nod, tipped forward as he bowed in my direction, a hand against his broad chest, told me I was right.
My mother was the lost princess of Sorronia.