Chapter 72
“Of course not.” Thal’s eyes flit from her to me, and there’s a flicker of confusion in them given the crazed panic in my eyes. But they say nothing more, stand, and leave.
I don’t know where the rest of the Worldkeepers are. Maybe resting? Maybe exploring the remnants of the Stone Citadel? I don’t care. It doesn’t matter.
I stand there, scraping air into my lungs like it’s the only thing that I have left—that I know how to do—and just stare at my sister.
Arina studies me in kind with warm, honeyed eyes.
Eyes that I now see Alor and Emilia within, that I see as a copy of Moreus Ventall’s.
If I study us—well, her and my original form—how much of him will I find?
Our hair is our mother’s, as are my crimson eyes.
But our skin? It could’ve been either parent.
My jaw is probably his; same with my nose. The shape of both of our eyes.
She gives a tired, knowing smile and gestures toward the sofa across from her. “Would you like to sit?”
Obviously, I would. I can barely stand. I practically collapse into the cushions.
“You already know,” I whisper. “You saw it.”
She nods.
I reach for her hand, careful to avoid the still-drying ink of the card she’s working on—it looks like a draft of the Star. “Why…why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was afraid I was wrong.”
I choke on a laugh. “You’re the Star, Arina, you can’t be wrong. When you have a vision during reading, it will come to pass.”
She looks away. “So Thal mentioned. But my magic…” A sigh. “It’s not the same as it once was. Everything feels hazy and distant, forced, if I try to bring it to the fore. Uncomfortable, certainly.” A shake of her head. “I saw it, but I didn’t believe it—didn’t trust myself.”
“You shouldn’t have carried this alone.” I stare at her, vision blurry. I’m falling apart, and she’s composed.
“It wasn’t that long I bore the burden by myself,” she says in an attempt to comfort me. “What happened? Tell me everything.”
I do. I start with what I asked Alor to look for last year and what she ultimately found for me. I spare no detail, all the way to the end when I share what she said in the classroom word for word. “…And then I came here.”
Arina sits for a long moment, leaning back into her sofa.
“So, Lord Moreus Ventall is our father. Emilia and Alor are our half sisters, but they didn’t know, either, at least not until recently in Alor’s case, and we can assume the same for Emilia.
When Lady Helena Ventall found out about the affair, she killed Mother…
but couldn’t find us.” She summarizes everything I just said far more succinctly, as though laying it out for herself as well.
I nod weakly and hang my head, staring at the grooves in the wooden table. Our fingers remain locked even as we look in opposite directions.
“At first, I thought Mother was a target because of her work getting out Arcanists. Finding out she was a Worldkeeper—the last remaining Worldkeeper from the past world and the only one who knew how to induct more Worldkeepers, but also how to ink the vessel—only seemed to further that theory. But it was never about any of that…It was a jilted lover. Nothing more. It wasn’t some sweeping plot from the king himself.
She died because of Helena’s jealousy.” Somehow, I’m so cold, I shiver even though my blood is boiling.
It’s as though my body can no longer sustain its rage and is shutting down.
Arina holds my hand like a lifeline. Finally, she says, “What are you going to do about it?”
“It changes nothing.” I decide then and there. “Her motivation doesn’t change anything. I will kill High Lady Helena Ventall and avenge Mother’s death.”
“Good.” Arina nods approvingly. Our eyes lock. The one thing we swore was revenge for Mother. It was our one guiding principle, the one thing we always knew would be true, no matter what.
“And as for our father…” I trail off. “I don’t know what he did to her.” I can barely say the words.
“Mother was strong; she wouldn’t have let a man take advantage of her,” Arina reassures me, but I can’t tell if it’s nothing more than wishful thinking because the alternative is too much to bear.
“Arina…He was tasked by Naethor to hunt and kill her. In what world would she turn around and willingly fall into bed with a man who was her sworn enemy?” I shouldn’t argue with her, but something tells me that letting her continue her delusions would be worse.
“If he wanted her dead, he clearly had his opportunity,” she counters.
“Unless he got more delight from conquering her in other ways.” The hand not holding hers balls into a fist so tight that I know there will be crescent bruises on my palm. “Some people are twisted like that.”
We’re interrupted by Vaduin entering. Arina releases me and picks up her brush as if nothing happened. I shift, trying to follow her lead, even if I’m still reeling mentally and emotionally.
“It is good to see you out of bed,” he says to Arina.
She nods. “It is good to be out of bed.”
“And inking, too. Are you close to making your card?” He does nothing to hide his eagerness.
“I am practicing. Thal seems to think I’m making swift progress. Perhaps it is my intuition as the Star,” she replies.
I give Vaduin a firm look to try to dissuade him from pushing further, but he only turns to me instead.
“And how close are you to having enough powder to attempt inking a second vessel?” he asks.
“I already do,” I say dully.
“Exceptional, then we will be ready to move as soon as you’re ready,” he says to Arina. “Have either of you seen Xora?”
“She went to get food a little bit ago,” Arina says.
Vaduin nods and departs as swiftly as he came. The door shuts behind him with a firm click, and the room is so quiet that even the crackling of the fire seems loud. I look back to find Arina’s eyes waiting for mine, an expectant stare.
When I say nothing, she sighs softly and states, “After everything, after all you’ve sacrificed…you’re not eager to cast the World.”
I sigh heavily. “It’s not that I’m ‘not eager,’ it’s just…”
“Uneasy, then.” She resumes work on the card before her. “We’re one step closer to getting the World—to having all the power, to making everything we ever whispered and dreamed about come true. But you’re not relieved or excited in the slightest.”
Of course she can read me as well as the cards. I admit, to her and her alone, and even then with some reluctance, “It means I’m going to have to make a choice.” One that every time I think it becomes clearer, it gets murky again.
Arina’s eyes dart up from the card she’s working on. The design looks nearly perfect. She’s right; her intuition always made her a good inker. “What choice?”
“Do I follow Kaelis’s vision for the world?
Do I follow the Worldkeepers’? Do I wish for what you and I would’ve always wanted?
Or…something between all of them? Do I even know what I want anymore?
” The uncertainty has me shifting in my seat.
I’m uncomfortable in my own skin. Never have I felt so indecisive.
“You don’t trust him?” She tilts her head.
“That’s the crazy part, I do,” I murmur. “But the Worldkeepers were Mother’s lineage and legacy. They were her mission and goals. I should make the wish exactly as they tell me to.”
“But you trust him more than them.” It’s not a question, and the fact that she doesn’t even need to ask has a flush rising up the back of my neck.
“Why don’t we consult the cards?” she suggests.
Tension pulls my shoulders taut. “Arina…”
“I know my magic is still not quite what it was…but I’m better than most, clearly, given how the last reading went.”
My stomach knots. “Given how the last reading went, I don’t think we should.”
“Clara, you can’t avoid the future just because it might contain something you won’t like.”
“I know.” I sigh heavily. “But I’m not ready for another reading yet. Maybe once another vessel is made and there’s no longer any choice.”
“Very well.” She doesn’t argue, but she doesn’t move; she simply stares at me, as if making sure I won’t change my mind.
I don’t, and take my leave as Thal returns.
Before I know it, I’m emerging into Kaelis’s apartments. But he’s not there. Not in his office, or dining room, or even my old wing.
Drifting like an uneasy ghost, I finally settle on one of the couches in his main room and lie down, allowing my whole body to go limp.
Priss wastes no time hopping up to join me.
The rumble of her purr and the softness of her fur somehow make everything else seem less…
horrible. If this adorable little creature exists, then maybe I can survive another day.
I’m not sure how much time has passed when Kaelis finally enters through his main doors.
He strides with purpose but immediately comes to a halt the moment his eyes land on me.
I sit, gently relocating Priss from my chest to the cushion next to me.
She has none of it and scampers off, indignant that I’d dare violate the sacred laws of a sleeping cat and move her.
Kaelis studies me. Without a word, he crosses, sitting at my side and shifting a leg around me. He pulls me to him, having me lean back upon his sturdy chest. I don’t resist. I melt into him and let myself be held. Let his jaw rest against my head as we both stare into the flames.
“What is it?” he murmurs.
“That obvious?”
“You weren’t trying to hide it.” His long fingers caress up and down my forearms.
“I don’t try to hide much from you anymore,” I admit.
“Excellent. I appreciate that we’re not wasting time.” He plants a kiss on my hair. A thin and tired laugh escapes me. I can feel his smile. “So, care to be more specific?”
“I…” Even though I’m terrified, I gather my courage—he braved telling me his deepest secrets, I can do the same. “I found out who my father is.”
“What?” Kaelis shifts but doesn’t release me. Instead, he holds me tighter. “Or, rather, who?”
“Lord Moreus Ventall.”
There is an appropriately long pause. Then, one word from him: “Fuck.”
A slightly more sincere laugh now, but still quite bitter. “That’s about the sum of my feelings.”
“He never struck me as the type.” Surprise is laced in his words.
“Not that I know him well, but he certainly wouldn’t have been on my short list of contenders for my father.
” I stare into the flames, replaying every moment I’ve had with Moreus.
The way his eyes went right to me during the winter celebrations I attended at the castle, widening I thought with recognition from All Coins Day. But it was more than that…
My words grow softer, barely more than a whisper. “Do you think he knew it was me last year?” I already know it in my heart, but I want to hear him say it.
“I do.”
“He seemed to be instantly suspicious for no reason,” I muse.
“More than that.” Kaelis’s words take on an even more somber and serious tone than I’d expected. I twist, looking up at him, but he’s intensely focused on the flames. “He was the one who came to me after Ravin caught you following the Feast of Cups ball.”
“What?” I pull myself upright to meet his eyes.
“He said that Ravin was going to kill you and that he prevented it, but he feared what might happen.” Kaelis runs a hand through his hair.
“I thought it was merely the High Lord overseeing the Stellis going above and beyond by ensuring that another royal knew of what had occurred. I didn’t think it relevant, or I would’ve told you sooner. ”
“I don’t blame you, Kaelis.” I rest my hand on his knee and stare off, trying to remember those hazy final moments in the townhome.
My prince…more valuable alive? The voice that I vaguely recognized then but couldn’t place. It was him. It was Moreus.
Who would stand up for me? The question I wondered about then returns, now answered.
“Fucking Twenty.” I push myself off the sofa and storm over to the hearth, leaning against the mantel. “Does he think stopping Ravin from killing me makes up for anything? That getting you to help me makes up for anything?”
“I doubt he does,” Kaelis says gently. “But I don’t think he could watch his daughter die, probably why he didn’t turn you in last year.”
His daughter. The words strike me like an arrow of ice, and I fight a shiver. His daughter. Me.
“I guess I was a lost heir to a clan after all, Kaelis. You just got the wrong one,” I say bitterly.
“It doesn’t matter.” Kaelis stands and crosses to me, his footsteps muffled by the plush rug.
His arms slip around my waist, holding me once more.
His lips find my shoulder, and he repeats softly, “It doesn’t matter.
You are your mother’s daughter. You are the heir to ancient and powerful knowledge—and you will be the one who remakes our world. ”
I know he’s trying to be encouraging, but that reminder of all that’s led me here and the responsibilities I now bear has me nearly pulling away. He must feel me flinch because he holds tighter. Somehow, he’s capable of clutching me, yet not making me feel captive at the same time.
“This only needs to change things if you let it,” he says with a note of finality. I nod. Kaelis rests his chin on my shoulder, staring into the fire. “The winter recess is coming up quickly…Stay with me this year. No castle. No celebrations. Let’s spend it here quietly, together.”
“No,” I say softly, fingertips running from his knuckles to his forearms. “Last year, I lost spending my favorite season with those I love. I won’t lose the season again, not after Jura and Gregor.” It’s the last one I’ll have with them all as we are.
The moment I finish, I can feel his disappointment hovering over me like a storm cloud.
I twist, and his arms loosen but still rest on my waist. Taking his face in both hands, I study his eyes.
The purple flames that illuminated them still flicker deep within those voids—now that I know they’re there, I can’t ignore them.
“You’re part of that family,” I whisper. Now I see a spark of hope in the tempest voids that are his eyes, like a lightning bolt across the darkness. “I was with your family last year, Kaelis. Come be with mine this year.”
“Would they even want me there?”
“You are mine. There is no other place for you to be.”
His forehead presses against mine, the tips of our noses touching. He breathes a sigh that almost sounds like relief. “Say it again.”
“You are mine.”
“I am yours,” he echoes. “For as long as you will have me, and whatever form I will take.”