Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
NISSA
Ophe and I spend the rest of the morning ignoring the fact that my entire life has been turned upside down. But that feeling in my chest continues to get worse despite my best friend being there.
Ultimately, I decide to take her advice and approach Caspien after the memorial this afternoon.
I can share my concerns before doing anything drastic.
Maybe he feels the same way about all of this as I do.
After all, his mate is the one who died.
I can’t imagine he’s thrilled to have some lookalike shoved at him.
I change into a flowy white dress with draped straps and floral lace that peeks out from the neckline.
It’s nothing like the stiff white satin shroud my mother had sent for me to wear.
Thankfully, Ophe brought me a grief dress from home.
An elder returning to their element, or the rare case of an accidental death, is the only time Fae don’t exclusively wear their elemental colors.
Instead, we wear white, the presence of all colors, uniting all elements in honor of the deceased.
Ophe and I travel to the Skyborn Chapel separately at the insistence of the Guardians. For my safety.
Entering through the open archway, I take in the stunning Temple of the Wind Elementals.
The thin beams that make up the “ceiling” are covered in a gossamer fabric that’s rippling in the wind, creating a beautiful living pattern.
The windows that line the walls are glassless, allowing a gentle breeze to flow across the space.
I close my eyes, taking in the comforting melody that fills the room.
“Nissa, darling!” My mother’s grief-laced wail echoes across the chapel over the chimes that are responding to their calling.
My eyes snap open, and she throws herself at me. Every muscle in my body tenses as all eyes in the room turn to take us in.
“Nova would be so thankful that you are here for her,” she says with another wail, drawing even more attention.
I mentally roll my eyes at the theatrics as she clutches me tighter. I know she’s actually upset to have lost her favorite, but this affection for me is all for show. A performance. I wiggle my arms free, adding space between us.
Leaning around her, I scan the seats for Ophe.
One of the few human guests, she’s sitting in the back row of the chapel alone with the servants.
I spot her just as my mother grips my wrist and begins to drag me towards the front.
When I subtly pull my arm back, bringing us to a stop, she wheels on me so fast I stumble back a step.
She takes a chilling step towards me, leaning in close so no one else sees her expression.
Her white dress makes her blue eyes look like ice.
My confidence slips, but I stand my ground. “I’m going to sit with Ophe.”
In a single blink, disdain replaces the grief. “You will join us at the front for the procession like the mourning sister and princess that you are. It's time you grow up and stop playing with the help,” she hisses under her breath.
I grind my teeth together to stop a retort, noting the expectant eyes drinking us in. A few are looking in Ophe’s direction, following the path of where I was looking before. The Elite are waiting on any morsel of drama they can find, and I’m not about to hand them my friend.
I shoot her an apologetic look. When she waves me off, I follow my mother to the front of the room. Hands curled into fists, I move towards the dais with my head held high. Nova would have entered quietly, head down. Ever the image of elegance and grace.
But I’m not Nova and never will be.
Colorful petals, and light blue wind wisps dance around our ankles as we walk down the aisle. The wisps seem happy to have visitors in their sanctuary.
The Vaylor family is standing at the end of the nave, right in front of the dais that opens up to the cliffside. Caspien steps forward as we break through the hordes of Fae who have come to express their sympathy.
“I’m so sorry about Nova.” He envelopes me in a hug. Unlike my mother’s, his embrace almost feels sincere, as if it was actually meant for me, not one for those around us, starving for royal attention.
Pulling back, he places his hands on my upper arms and looks down into my eyes. “Are you feeling better today?”
I’m not sure if he is referring to my new role or the death of my sister. But the intensity in his obsidian eyes has my stomach churning, and I instinctively step out of his hold.
King Kiel is flanking him on one side. Cillian is on the other, observing us.
All three are dressed in formal mourning whites.
Their colored heart stones shine even brighter against the starkness of their white shirts.
Kiel loses interest in us quickly, returning his attention to the fawning subjects around him.
But I have to force my gaze away from Cillian’s steady stare.
Breathe, Nissa. You can do this.
“I’m fine,” I tell Caspien, giving him a slight nod. My cheeks warm as I realize that my noncommittal answer is actually true. I can hear the soft crying of mourners at my back, yet I haven’t so much as shed a tear for my own twin sister.
Caspien’s eyes soften, and he places a hand on my hip. He squeezes softly in reassurance, like he can see my thoughts written all over my face. A smile of sympathy lifts the corners of his lips.
Still sensing Cillian’s attention, I send a cursory glance in his direction and find his eyes on his brother’s hand at my hip.
Unconsciously, I take a step back, then curse myself for being an idiot.
Sure, when I was young and naive, I imagined Cillian and I would end up together, but I know better now. And I got over that delusion long ago.
“Well, I’m here if you need anything at all,” Caspien offers, his usual self-assurance slipping when I move away.
The hurt on his face settles deep in my chest. He’s mourning his beloved, I remind myself. We both have to make the best out of this incredibly messed-up situation. Caspien has been nothing but kind since the announcement. He loved my sister.
Unfortunately, that’s all I can see when I look at him. I can’t imagine a world where I forget that he was Nova’s betrothed. Her mate, not mine. Maybe he’ll feel the same way about this switch.
“Could we talk privately later?” I suggest. I’m doing my best to keep my eyes firmly on the eldest twin.
“That sounds good.” Caspien’s face breaks out into a relieved smile. He steps back into the procession and motions me into the space between him and his brother.
Taking my place, I can feel Cillian’s eyes burning into me, but I refuse to return his stare.
Instead, I look up at Caspien as he addresses the next Fae that approaches him.
He was made for this. The ease with which he talks to the Elite makes that evident.
Just like Nova, he has sacrificed his life for the kingdom.
Born and trained to do whatever is necessary for Castara.
The High Priestess’s voice fills the space. “By the grace of the Goddess, please be seated.”
I glance to the back of the room where I wish I could hide with Ophe. When she gives me two thumbs up, her eyebrows jumping up and down suggestively, I swallow back a choked laugh.
All mirth evaporates as Isolde appears at my side. “Princess. I assume you will be ready for the Royal Guardians tomorrow,” she says as she guides me towards the front row with the rest of the royals.
I blink at her multiple times. As we settle into our levitating seats, I search my brain. “I’m sorry, what am I supposed to be ready for?”
“Did you not receive my correspondence? It should have been hand-delivered this morning,” she says, tone annoyed. Her sharp eyes swing to the back of the room to the rows of royal servants. As if she’s about to summon one for a reprimand.
My mother leans around me. “No worries, my Queen,” she whispers. “The letter was delivered to my home this morning. Nissa will be packed and ready for the Guardians to move her into the castle at the first light of day.” Her eyes bore into me for compliance.
Thankfully, the High Priestess in her white mourning robe walks up on the dais at that exact moment, since my brain isn’t able to form any type of acceptable response.
Nova moved into the castle around the last Beltane, and I suppose with her death they’re wanting to take extra precautions with me.
Which doesn’t make me feel any better about the idea of moving in. In fact, it does the opposite.
I am going to be on lock-down tomorrow morning. My life will no longer be my own. I’ll have to hand over the little freedom I have left to the Vaylor family and the Goddess’s will.
My breaths are shallow, but I do my best not to focus on the future.
The wisps continue their antics flying up and down the aisles, gliding under the floating seats, shocking Fae as they pass between their legs. I briefly wonder how long the seats will remain suspended with the wind failing.
We all look up when a loud screech announces the arrival of a flock of dryrds.
The colorful, scaled creatures dig their talons into perches around the space.
Everyone watches the beautiful mini dragon hybrids in awe.
Most have disappeared as their homelands have been destroyed.
This is the most I’ve ever seen in one place.
Even Halcya, the High Priestess, seems distracted by the display of respect as the rare creatures peer down at all of us. After a moment, she recovers and begins the last rite. Praising my twin for her flawless life as the Daughter of Gaia, she lists off Nova’s positive attributes.
All the opposite of me.
I shift in my seat, my heart pounding in my ears, at the confirmation that I’m not cut out for this life.
Halcya’s voice drones in the background as I look down the aisle and find Cillian watching me. His face looks unexpectedly concerned when our gaze meets. He tilts his head in look of enquiry, as if asking if I’m okay.
Not long ago I thought I was. But now I truly don’t know. How in the worlds can I be expected to give up my whole life. My twin did just that for the Vaylors, and she’s dead. Those same royals banished me away, only to pull me back now when it benefits them.
Many of the red-rimmed eyes that stare up at the high priestess are those of the same Elite who drank and danced at last night’s gala without a care. The realization that my mother isn’t the only Fae putting on a show turns my stomach.
Is this what Nova’s life was reduced to? The selfless princess, who gave up her whole life, including the relationship with her twin sister, for these Fae, who never really cared about her.
If they can all be this selfish, why can’t I?
My chest tightens. My head is swimming with the realization that this will be my life. Or lack thereof. I won’t have a life. I will have to be who they want me to be.
Until they don’t need me. Yet again. What if Caspien doesn’t need me to become king? Or what if he falls in love with some other female when the bond isn’t there? Will they send me away again after they get what they need from me?
Movement around the room pulls my attention back to the ceremony. Everyone in the nave reaches for the symbols of their elements for the final ritual. We raise them into the air to represent Nova’s return to her element in death. There’s a mix of floating water droplets, feathers, leaves, and fire.
“Nova is at peace in her element, continuing to support the Fae through the wind. Just as she would wish.” Halcya raises her own white feather and looks to the sky. “In honor of Nova, we offer the Goddess these gifts.”
Quiet fills the room. Even the dryrds and wisps go unnaturally still. After multiple moments pass, with nothing, the whispering begins. The dryrds take flight. Some hands lower. Many Fae still hold up their element, waiting for Gaia to take them. Waiting for the memorial to be complete.
That ache in my chest shifts. No, it cracks in half. The guilt of not wanting this… the fear of only being wanted for my birthdate. The sadness from Nova’s life being cut so short… It all breaks apart, replaced with all out rage.
Not only did the Goddess allow this to happen, but now she disrespects Nova in the greatest way by not taking the memorial offerings! Her chosen!
How dare she not show up and show respect to the princess that she chose to rule this world! What, out of a temper tantrum? Gaia already howled and roared with that destructive storm when Nova was dying. Another attack on our world. But this is another level. Could the Goddess really be so selfish?
Nova didn’t choose to die—she chose to devote her life to Gaia’s calling. And Gaia can’t even show up now.
Well then, I don’t have to show up either. I’m done. I’m done with all of this. Forget talking to Caspien. If Gaia is all-powerful, then she doesn’t need me. The Goddess can make whoever she wants the king on her own.
Obviously, we’re all just interchangeable to her. And I won’t be another pawn that can be discarded at a moment's notice.
Through my anger, I see Halcya’s throat bob as she swallows and lowers her feather.
Her eyes are wide, looking to the Vaylors for a breath, before her sultry calm returns.
“Gaia does not follow our time and will show up according to her will. Please place your elemental component in the basin at the front of the dais.”
Two humans appear. They struggle to lift an engraved basin and place it at Halcya’s feet. Everyone stands. The Vaylors lead the way, depositing their elements.
When it’s my turn, I pause. “This is for Nova,” I whisper to the Goddess. “Not for you,” I add, eyes hard with my rage.
The moment the leaf enters the bowl, a low pulsing pain radiates through the back of my head. Cillian’s eyes track me as I make my way to my mother.
“I need a moment,” I lie. Then I walk straight out of the Skyborn Chapel, around a wall until I’m out of sight of the Guardian already on my heels.
Now is my only chance out. An instant later, I press my hand to a tree and disappear into the root system. It doesn’t take me far before I hit dead roots, damaged in the storms. Forced to re-materialize, I find another system and rootwalk again.
Appear. Disappear. I rootwalk as fast as I can manage until I’m close to my flat.
I need to get to a portal.