Chapter 8 #2
The delicate scent of white jasmine surrounds me.
The smell I will always associate with my sister.
I hurry into Nova’s study—more of a dressing room, really—and ease the door shut.
One of the windows that cover the wall is still cracked open, blowing the floor-to-ceiling gossamer curtains in the wind she loved so much.
The fresh air swirls around the room, making me feel closer to my sister than I have since the bond was broken.
As I look around the room, my heart sinks a little in my chest. While I can feel her presence here, the space has few personal touches beyond the typical décor for a Wind Fae.
Nothing screams “Nova.” Nothing tells me more about the sister I knew so little about.
The space is bland, void of personality.
Just like they had raised her to be—present but not heard.
My shoulders drop as I realize it’s unlikely that I’ll find anything useful about my twin in this room.
I run my fingers through number windchimes and wind instruments in the corner of the room. I walk over to the changing area in the corner with its full-length mirror and small vanity.
Carefully sliding each drawer open, I find meticulously organized jewelry, makeup, and fragrant oils.
I trace the outlines of a few of the magnificent jewels set in every type of metal you could imagine.
There’s jewelry to match every possible Wind-elemental color, the perfect accessory for any dress.
Closing the last drawer, I take a deep breath and head to the elegant inlaid wooden desk. Everything there is equally organized. Slim books about past queens, etiquette, and royal events. Folders with calendars and menus.
When I reach the bottom drawer, there’s a light-blue leather-bound notebook hidden under a stack of new ones. The leather is soft and worn, the binding cracked from use. A flicker of hope for answers blooms inside of me.
But when I try to open the pages, the book fights against me. Locked. Though nothing appears to be holding it shut. I flip the book over in my hand, studying it. Again, I try to pry at the cover, attempting to pull it apart to no avail.
Frustrated, I set the book atop the desk and finish digging through the drawers.
When nothing else stands out, I push to stand, my hand flat on top of the worn leather cover.
A strong draft blows through the cracked window, and a tingle of magic shoots up my wrist. I fall back into the chair and lift the book, my eyebrows drawn together.
This time when I tug on the cover, it lifts with ease.
The magic holding it shut either wasn’t strong enough to differentiate between Nova and me, or she had spelled it so I could open it as well.
Wouldn’t she have taken something precious enough to lock with her if she was running? Was she leaving it for me?
I quickly flip through the pages as I lean back into the floating high-backed chair behind the desk.
Nova’s entries are all written in beautiful swirling calligraphy but are nothing but notes upon notes about her lessons and what failings she felt she needed to work on. Or she was told she needed to work on.
I scan a few more pages before growing impatient with all the criticism I read. Thumbing further into the book, I skim page after page. My eyes finally catch on an entry where the words are scribbled messily, absent of her normal fine script.
I pause, reading the rush of thoughts so out of character that Nova couldn’t even stop to correct her mistakes on the page. A confrontation with Caspien after finding a female leaving his room.
Any frustration I had with my sister splinters, leaving the fracture raw and aching.
Each beat of my heart feels as if it rubs against my chest painfully.
This must be it. The reason she was leaving.
She had devoted her life to be the person they asked her to be, and to this male, the person Gaia “blessed” her with.
Just for them to still tear her apart after so many years, and for him to betray her so grievously.
The door to the study swings open, hitting the wall heavily, halting me in rereading the passage.
A petite girl stumbles in with a pile of boxes so high I can’t even see her face.
When she lowers them, I see her rounded ears.
A human servant. Her eyes lock on me and all color drains from her cheeks.
She quickly bows her head towards the floor. “Princess Nissa, I apologize. I’ll come back later.” She sets the tottering boxes on the floor and starts to retreat.
“Wait, what are you here to do?” I ask, eyes on the stack of boxes.
“I was asked to clean out this room.” She stands straight as a board, formality coating each word.
Of course they would clean out Nova’s stuff—she isn’t coming back. But it still feels like an invasion of her privacy. Which is ridiculous as I sit here holding open her private journal in my lap.
“Did you know my sister well?” I ease the cover shut.
“I’m Dahlia, her personal maid, your Highness,” the girl says, offering little.
“Can you tell me about her before she died? Was she upset about something?”
A quick glance up at me. Then her focus returns to the floor. “She was acting normal the last time I saw her. Then, she was last seen alive at your mother’s estate, not here.”
I nod to myself at the confirmation of what Niko briefed me on. “Were Prince Caspien and she happy?” I probe, curious about others' perspectives on their relationship.
The maid’s eyes fall on the notebook. I immediately place my hands flat over the book.
“As happy as you would expect.” She gestures at my lap. “Prince Caspien had become less inconspicuous, which frustrated the princess, but she wasn’t really surprised by it.”
My eyebrows must have jumped all the way to my hairline. “So the cheating was ongoing?” I asked, confessing my personal invasion of Nova’s privacy.
It was the girl’s turn to look surprised. “Of course, Princess. They had an agreement. But your sister knew it would all work out once the divine mate bond connected them.”
My mind is struggling to keep up, trying to take in what she’s saying and reconcile it with the journal entry. It did add up. Nova’s journal expressed her hurt, but she focused more on Caspien’s lack of discretion than the actual act of cheating on her.
“Was my sister seeing anyone else?” Maybe she was running to be with him.
“No, your Highness. Princess Nova was devoted to her role, waiting for Prince Caspien to love her. But he never looked at her like Prince Cillian looks at you.”
I blink at her. What, like he wants nothing to do with me? I almost snort. My bafflement must show.
The girl gives me a sheepish look. “I apologize if I overstepped. I shouldn’t have said anything.” A blush pinkens her cheeks. “It’s just Princess Nova always said the prince was only pretending to like those parasite princesses.”
It’s the term the servants use for the females who shamelessly flirt with the princes for personal gain. The same females that Cillian moved on from me with. But apparently Caspien liked to have his fun with them too. “Caspien or Cillian?” I’m getting confused.
“Prince Cillian. She said his interest in those other females fled like the wind as soon as you left.” The girl's voice is filled with whimsy, a small smile gracing her face.
I realize I’m gaping at her when she starts to shift between her feet. The only words I can find slip out. “Prince Cillian has barely spoken to me for years.” And my sister definitely never shared any of these thoughts with me.
Not that I’ve tried to approach him either. In fact, we always do our best to avoid each other during my annual visits now.
For half a second, I remember the sweet, studious young male I once knew.
The boy who wanted to spend time with me, not because of who I was but because he was interested in me, not “Princess Nova’s sister.
” I shake my head slightly as if I could literally remove the thought from my head.
It's a ridiculous thought. Cillian said it himself in the woods, “You’re just alike...”
And it's Cillian. He ended our relationship. Not me.
“I’m betrothed to his brother.” The words feel wrong coming out of my mouth. I don’t even realize I’ve said it aloud until Dahlia quickly nods at me, her rigid posture returning, her eyes dropping back to the floor.
Guilt floods me for making her feel chastised when I don’t actually plan on following through with the betrothal.
“My apologies, Princess. I didn’t mean to imply-—” Stopping mid-sentence, she bends at the waist, then straightens, and backs out of the room. “Do you need anything else before I go?” she asks as she wrings her hands together.
It takes me a moment to come out of the rabbit warren that she just sent my mind down. “Do you know why my sister would have been in Terrania, near the portal to the human world?”
Her brow knits. “She was by the human portal when she died?”
“Yes.” I’m a little surprised she didn’t know, with how the rumor mill operates among the servants.
She slowly brings her eyes back to mine. “I, um…, I don’t understand. Princess Nova had no reason to be near the portal as far as I know. You should be able to ask the security team though. They would have an official reason for her request to visit.”
“The humans attacked her while she was alone at the portal, Dahlia.”
Her mouth drops open.
I press on. “Have you heard anything from other humans here, ones with connections in the human world? Why the humans would want to kill the next in line to be the Fae queen?”
The sweet pink that graced her cheeks earlier has changed to a full red. She takes a small step towards me before freezing, her hands slightly raised. “Please, I promise humans here are no risk to you,” she says, words quiet but frantic.
“Dahlia,” I cut her off. She’s young but seems even younger because of her height. “I’m not upset with the humans here. I just want to know why my sister was killed. And what sent her to the human portal to begin with.”
Her eyes gleam with unshed tears. I hate to have upset her with my questions. But Ophe is the only other human I could ask, and her ties there ended after her family’s last visit.
“We’re forbidden from speaking about politics if we visit home,” she says.
“The glamour over us prevents it. And your side of the portals are spelled to notify the Guardians if any species other than a Fae tries to enter from our world. If someone made it through the portal and was able to kill Princess Nova before the Guardians made it to her…” She shakes her head, “I just don’t know how that’s possible. ”
The ‘if’ isn’t lost on me. It spikes my curiosity even more.
Standing, I thank her and pause as I skirt past her at the door, the journal tucked tight to my side. Mind spinning, I say, “Please keep this conversation between us.”
She gives a firm nod. I hope I can trust her.
I still don’t have answers for why Nova would have been there. Honestly, now I’m wondering if she was even at the portal when it happened. Did they lie to me? Did Cillian lie to me?
Is he keeping secrets? I have no reason to trust him beyond instinct.
In the hallway, I’m about to head to my room to finish looking through Nova’s journal when I hear his deep voice down the corridor on my left. I know I should go right—
My feet don’t seem to agree.