Page 25 of Maleen

He collapses onto the bench beside me. “Does Cyn know?”

I shake my head. “No, I wanted to tell you first before I went to her. She looks so much like my mother,” I whisper. “I still haven’t wrapped my head around it.”

“How did I not see this sooner?” His voice breaks and for the first time I’m reminded of the fledgling I grew up around. Not the imposing male with an attitude who won’t take any shit, but the young one who used to rely on me when things got rough. “How long has he been screwing with my memories? How much more of my life is a lie!?”

“I don’t think anyone would have realized. Your father plays games of secrets and lies where death and destruction is the prize,” I tell him gently. “Plus, at least I know she was as safe as possible with you. You know I always wanted a younger sister. And in a way, she will always be your sister, even if not by blood, then as chosen family. And if we ever—” I cut myself off, not ready to talk about the mate bond between us when he’s figuring things out for himself.

A watery laugh escapes him as he fights back tears. “Then you wouldn’t have needed us for your tea parties. Fates, without you, I would have never been able to show Cynder what a tea party was like.”

I stare at him wide-eyed as his words sink in. “Wait, you gave her a tea party?”

“Showed her how to set them up exactly like you showed me.” He smiles bitterly. “Before my father became determined to keep us as separated as possible. Millie and the other brownies took care of her while my father had me training for Phixmery.”

“Oh.”

He sighs, throwing his head back. “Those are her stories to tell. Would you mind if I was there when you told her?”

“Of course,” I state. “I figured you would want to be.”

He nods. “Thanks.”

Without another word he gets up and leaves me sitting alone, and I watch as he vanishes back inside. Well, that went better than I expected.

Nero titters. “I almost expected him to draw his sword and demand you fight for Cynder or something.”

Wouldn’t that have been something. A moment later I see a larger shadow follow down the hall after him. Seems as if Killian hasn’t given up yet.

“Well, it’s best we get to the war room and get today’s stats,” I tell Nero, but my heart is still with Tal and the news I had to give him. Even with that, I still have duties to perform, and I’ve had enough of a break. We have an advantage with the chunk of Soul Stone hidden here. Now we wait and we plan, then hopefully take action and save the realm from Talyn’s bastard father. All in a day’s work, I suppose.

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE NEXT MORNING NERO IS nesting on my lap as I watch my mother. A coma, the healer said. Apparently she won’t wake again, and it’s only a matter of time until the Fates take her home. They told me it’s common among fae who have undergone the type of trauma there’s no returning from, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch. I just got her back.

“At least soon she will be with your fathers,” Nero murmurs softly.

I stroke his feathers absently. “Do you think they’re waiting for her?”

Aemon’s voice startles me out of my mind. “Of course they’re waiting for her. I would be waiting for you. We all would.”

I narrow my gaze on him. “No talking of any of you dying. There’s been enough death to last a lifetime. And isn’t it bad luck to be talking of death while in the room with someone on their death bed?”

“Weren’t you just doing the same, Little Dream?” He teases me quietly.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t out loud,” I tease back before focusing back on my mother.

Her features are relaxed, not a crease of worry or pain to be found, and her pale, ashy lips are parted softly as quiet, jagged breaths fill the space.

Aemon kneels on the ground beside my chair and uses his thumb and forefinger to turn my head towards him. “How are you holding up?” His lavender gaze searches mine, and I feel his worried emotions through our bond.

I continue stroking Nero, the slight vibrations from his smaller form soothing me. “I’m okay, I think. I’m sad—we just got her back—but a part of me knows she doesn’t want to be here any longer. She misses them, and who knows the extent of what he did to her. I feel like I would be the same if I were in her shoes. The Fates are cruel for this though. Why make us suffer? Why choose our paths and fill them with heartache and death? Betrayal and secrets?”

It’s my turn to search his face as he mulls over my question. His eyes are gentle as he speaks. “I don’t think the Fates would want us enslaved to their will. It’s why they gave us free choice. When someone goes down a path they can’t return from, they guide their chosen ones to help put everything back on the right path. I’ve seen it with my own eyes, through you.” He smiles. “It’s not fair, but I don’t think they would give us tasks that we cannot handle.”

I nod as I think over his words, and the room becomes silent again as Aemon pulls up another chair to sit vigil beside me, lending me a comforting touch.

A soft knock sounds at the door before it cracks open, and Cynder appears, confused as she takes in the scene before her. “You wanted to see me?”

I nod. “We are just waiting on Talyn. Come in and take a seat.” I gesture to the chair on the other side of my—our—mother’s bed. I’m not sure why I wanted to have this conversation with her here, but it seemed like the best. That way, if Cynder wanted, she could have some time with the Queen. I have no idea what I’m doing, but it reminds me of the games I used to play with Gretchen, which I now know were to prepare me for situations just like this where I had to take on a role.