Page 12 of Blood of the Stars

Alarm sliced through Gaeren. “Have you sent in healers?”

“They refuse to see them. They refuse to see the priest for prayers. They often refuse to see me.”

Gaeren wrapped an arm around her, pulling her against him for a hug. She stiffened, always aware of how her actions might be perceived. But this wasn’t a weakness, and many of the staff had been around long enough to have seen her tantrums as a child. He refused to let go, and eventually she melted into him, taking the comfort he offered.

“Well, there’s no point in me trying, then, is there?”

She gave half a laugh against his chest, and while he’d said the words to lighten her mood, the truth behind them was a little stab to his chest. Enla had always been the preferred child. The oldest, the highest concentration of starblood. The one ready to obey and please, even before she understood the role she would take on.

Maybe it should have made him jealous of her or caused a rift between them. But it wasn’t her fault. Instead, it made him despise their parents, who should have loved them equally.

That didn’t mean he wished either of them ill.

“Maybe you should try,” she said, pulling back. Her eyes begged him to agree. “We could go together. I need to know if I’m imagining things.”

He winced, glancing through the doors once more as if he could see his parents beyond. “Of course. Anything for you.”

“Anything except attending council meetings?” She gave him a wry look, then straightened the seams of her dress until she realigned into her prim and proper statue.

As they passed through the main doors, a set of guards fell in line, shadowing them through the west wing corridor and up the stairs to their parents’ chambers, where soldiers not only guarded the entrance but blocked Enla and Gaeren’s access to the door.

One guard cleared his throat. “Permission to speak, Your Majesty.”

“Of course.” Enla dipped her head.

“His Majesty, the king, has requested to not be disturbed after last night’s festivities.”

Gaeren snorted, then leaned past the guard to pound on the door anyway.

“We don’t need lunch!” The sharpness of their father’s reply didn’t surprise Gaeren, but the man had never refused food.

“It’s me, Father,” Gaeren called. “I’ve come seeking your blessing for my voyage to Valorian and Lovers’ Falls.”

Enla jostled his arm. “I already rejected that request.”

“Then my request will rile him up and bring him to the door. Or he’ll overrule your authority.” Gaeren grinned. “Either way, I win.”

“It’s no wonder I’m their favorite,” she murmured as the door clicked open.

The king’s brown eyes blazed with health, and his girth showed no signs of slimming as he glared down at the two of them. “Enla said she wants to send you as an ambassador to Islara.” He pulled the door open, allowing them in.

“She also says she wants me here to act as throne warden.” Gaeren stepped past his father, scanning the sitting room for the queen. “She can’t very well have it both—” He cut off when his eyes landed on his mother’s slight frame perched on the edge of a settee. Her blue eyes glazed over as if she were Enla sifting through visions of his soul’s future.

Only his mother was a noetic like him, her magic allowing her to project emotions on others. She was a perfect match for their father. After he created chaos in a room, she calmed everyone down. Now she sat perfectly still, either unaware of their presence or uninterested. Her dark brown coils with hints of grey were still done up from the night before. Enla sat next to her, causing the cushion to dip, but the queen didn’t move. Their father remained in the doorway, making it clear they were only allowed a brief visit.

“Mother?” Gaeren stepped forward, kneeling until his face was in her line of sight.

Her focus shifted, and a smile brightened her face. “Hello, dear. So good of you to come.” She clasped his hand between her gloved fingers. Had he imagined her odd behavior?

“We’re both exhausted,” his father said. For the first time, Gaeren noticed they were in their nightclothes, breakfast trays still on the tea table.

“You hardly even attended last night’s party.” Gaeren released his mother’s hand and stood to face his father. Enla stood too, pinching his arm through his sleeve. He held back a wince.

“Have you come to lecture us on our social life?” the king snapped. “Your sister knows what’s best for you. If she wants you in Islara, go to Islara. If she wants you here, stay here. There’s no reason to come whining to me like a petulant child asking for extra sweets.” The exposed bits of skin above his beard took on the purple hue Gaeren and the council members were so familiar with.

“She could send anyone to Islara,” Gaeren insisted. “And Uncle Dantoran still serves as the throne warden. I’m not needed yet, and I have leads of my own.”

His father’s color darkened further. “Dantoran serves me, not your sister. Go on. Can’t you see you’re upsetting your mother?”

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