Chapter Sixteen #2
“You know that I had the greatest respect for your mother.” Adeline mustered a small, derisive laugh, but Eleni’s voice only strengthened.
“No—I did. She was my friend. But she was also the leader of the most powerful kingdom in the world, and that sort of influence, the monopoly she held on that power—it was her greatest pride. It’s true that I did not always agree with her, nor did I always trust her.
And I’m sorry to say this, Adeleni, I am, but neither did your father. ”
“Then why bring me home to Eisalaan?” Adeline shot back. “If he thought so little of her, why wouldn’t he keep me here, like I begged him to?”
“Because if he had kept you here, she would never have stopped trying to get you back, whether she knew of your abilities or not. And we were prepared to fight, my love. For you, we would have fought. We would have explored your power, strengthened it, rather than see it smothered or exploited to appease another’s ego. But Silas did not want that.”
Adeline’s face fell, but she bit her lip hard, and Kai could see that she was fighting tears.
Could see the anger simmering beneath the wet shimmer in her eyes; he was beginning to understand that crying did not bring her the same relief as it did to most. Instead, her tears brought a unique sort of discomfort, and Adhlas, she had had so much cause to weep these last few weeks.
He squeezed her hand again, and she squeezed back harder, drawing from him once again.
“He didn’t want me at the centre of a war,” she said finally, remarkably steady.
“No,” Eleni agreed. “He didn’t. He studied magical theory for the remainder of your summer here, hoping he would find some answer. In the end, he came to the conclusion that your gift was a result of your proximity to the Laune, dormant as that power may be. But your use of it—”
She hesitated. Kai felt Adeline’s hand stiffen in his, and knew she was bracing herself for whatever her aunt was so reluctant to share.
“Your use of it was tied to your happiness and freedom. He believed that if he brought you back to Eisalaan, back to your mother, you would not be able to express your magic as you did here. And, I gather, he was right.”
A hush descended on them, colder and more awful by far than the pressing ice that had once imprisoned him.
“I don’t agree with what he did, Adeleni, but I know that he was protecting you. Your mother put Eisalaan’s power and prestige before all else, and an heir wielding centuries-lost magic would only have been another jewel in her crown—”
“I don’t need you to tell me what value my mother placed on her crown,” said Adeline. “I lived it. I know exactly what came first to her, alright? You needn’t remind me.”
Silence fell again, and Kai could do nothing more than hold tight to Adeline’s hand and try not to stare too solemnly at her grief-stricken face.
He hadn’t known; not really. Perhaps he’d sensed something stilted in the way the late queen had interacted with her daughters, but he’d also known that Adeline loved her mother.
That Selma was plainly, profoundly proud of her vibrant daughter.
That they’d spent some time together, toward the end of Selma’s life.
To see her now, struggling to keep herself from crumbling at the thought of how her mother might have reacted to her power, Kai struggled with himself.
It was not his place, sitting here between these women as they unspooled and untangled decades worth of family conflict—his part in this, he had quickly understood, was to hold Adeline’s hand and bear witness.
Still, it grew more difficult to hold his tongue the longer the silence stretched and weighed down on them all.
He was almost grateful when Eleni spoke, tentative though she was.
“Your mother loved you, Adeline. There is no mistaking that. But she was lost, for a long time, and we did not know that she would find her way back. So Silas put you first. Before Eisalaan, before Selma, before his own throne—”
Kai could not tell if Eleni had caught herself, or if it was Adeline’s spluttered breath that cut her off. They stared at each other for a moment, and he was slow to catch the meaning of this new peal of tension in the air until Adeline spoke.
“His own throne?”
Understanding rushed him, and Kai could only return the pressure of Adeline’s grasp against his own. Eleni sat back, loosing a thin sigh through her teeth as she stared out into the darkness of the garden. She shook her head, seemingly to herself more than either of them.
“That,” she said carefully, “is the other reason for our estrangement. In your Silver Kingdom, any child of a ruling monarch may petition for the throne once they come of age. Dhalias has no such law. The crown is passed to the firstborn of the ruling monarch—unless, let us say, they were to concede to an ill-prepared younger sibling.”
Though she did not move, Eleni’s eyes flicked to Adeline, a nervous sideways glance.
“Perhaps to free himself, so he might cross the oceans to raise a child borne of a tenuous alliance.”
Adeline was barely breathing. Her head turned like a doll’s in a wooden, stuttering motion and the look she sent Kai was bewildered—and pleading. He understood at once what she needed from him.
“Silas is your elder brother?” Kai asked Eleni, and when she nodded, he added, “And he abdicated the Dhaliaan throne.”
“That he did,” Eleni said, daring to breathe out a small, humourless laugh. “I did hold out hope, for some time, that he merely meant me to keep it warm for him. Until he left with Adeline all those years ago. There was a finality to it; he wasn’t coming back. But then—”
Eleni finally turned to fully face her niece, her eyes soft and gleaming wetly beneath the lantern’s glow.
“But then you did, agameni. And you should know, no matter what has happened between my brother and I, no matter how much time has passed, I adore you with all of my heart. I don’t have or truly even want my own heirs, but I am fulfilled in the knowledge that you and Lyra are the closest thing I will ever have to daughters of my own.
” She swallowed hard and pushed on a little quicker, as though this next part required a particular effort.
“And you have the very same freedoms as your father, with none of the same obligations. I hope you understand that. Whether you want our help in exploring your power, whether you want to claim any part of the legacy that Silas turned away, that is your choice, but—”
Adeline sank her face into her hands; she knew what was coming, and so did Kai. It all slotted together in his mind’s eye, one glimpse of a startlingly whole and obvious portrait of the Vanjir family history before Eleni confirmed it with another hard swallow and a bob of her head.
“Adeline—you are my lawful Heir.”
???
Adeline’s rooms were set in the wide circumference of a large stone sundial.
She’d needed his help to find it, whether because she was disoriented from Wielding, or reeling from Eleni’s many revelations, or simply exhausted; it was nearing three in the morning by the time they left the gardens.
He saw her safely inside, and then hesitated, for just a moment, by the arched entry.
It was long enough for Adeline to read him, even as she stood with her back turned, removing her jewellery by the glow of the few candles left alight on the vanity.
She turned partway over her shoulder, candlelight gilding her features and catching the gleam of tears that still clung to her downcast eyelashes.
“Stay with me,” she whispered, still not meeting his eye. “Please stay.”
Kai only nodded.
Even with all they’d done that evening, it felt presumptuous to undress before they slept.
He took off his shoes and belt, and feigned interest in a framed oil painting of a rolling green vinyard as Adeline changed into her nightdress.
When she’d settled beneath the covers, he carefully lay beside her.
They lay there for a time, staring at the ceiling in silence for so long that Kai wondered if Adeline had fallen asleep—until he felt her shift and turn on her side.
“Kai?” she whispered.
He rolled toward her and found her face bathed in the silver-blue light of the moon that flooded the open balcony.
Her cheek was cushioned on her hands, her eyes wide with a wired sort of exhaustion and her hair curled in cloudy tufts that curved over her softly furrowed brow, her tight jaw, her tensed shoulder.
“I’m Eleni’s heir.”
He nodded, and then, emboldened by the trust in her gaze and the very fact she’d asked him to stay the night, Kai reached out and brushed her curls back so he could cup her cheek. Her brow smoothed, and when she closed her eyes at his touch, something warm and reviving unfurled in his chest.
“I think I was my mother’s choice too,” she went on. “I mean—I think I would have been.”
“I think you’re right.”
Adeline opened her eyes; they were gleaming again, and that warmth in his chest turned all too quickly to ice.
Adhlas. He’d spent so long in that same bitter state that it was difficult now to peel apart the feelings he’d come to associate with the cold.
The rage and sorrow he’d felt at his own imprisonment was surely not what he felt now watching Adeline fight back tears—and yet, it was.
He was angry. Angry for her, angry that she had to bear anything close to the weight he’d struggled with for centuries.
He recognised that specific sorrow, dense and unwieldy; he knew the texture of it.
It was so overwhelming that it gleamed in her eyes and spilt over her cheeks as she shook her head.
“I don’t just think,” she whispered hoarsely. “She left me a letter.”
Kai stared.
“Selma named you as her heir … on paper?”