Page 45 of All the Chaos of Constellations
She blamed the stars for her misfortune, for stealing the supposed love of her life. And then one day, when they were finally done with “mourning” the loss of their father, their mother took her own life.
It was then Asher realized love would have no place in his heart.
Love was selfish. Brutal and harsh.
He never wanted to be subjected to its bitter ways again. Which was why he needed to enlist his sister’s help.
“Cyra.” Asher leaned back in his seat and took a sip of tea. “I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Anything.” She stole one more piece of bacon from the platter. “What is it?”
“First, I need you to understand that what I’m about to tell you is incredibly important and second, you cannot tell a soul.” He watched her carefully over the rim of his teacup, expecting her eyes to flash with curiosity.
Instead, she bit off a piece of the bacon, not nearly as interested as he thought she would be in such an exchange. “Let me guess. You’ve discovered a way to control all the elements and need me to cover for you while you plot to overthrow the queen.”
Asher coughed, choking. Then he leveled her with a grave look. “Cute. But treason is nothing to laugh about and I’m being serious.”
“As am I.” She looked up at him then, her head tilting. She pointed her half-eaten piece of bacon in his direction. “You’re brilliant, Asher. Sure, you’re a bit of a recluse who prefers the company of books to anything that breathes, but there’s no doubt in my mind that if anyone could find a way to master all the elements of Aeramere, it would be you.”
Asher didn’t know whether he should be flattered by Cyra’s compliment, or bothered by the fact that she’d apparently given thought to the prospect of him committing treachery.
“Ah, thank you…I think.” He frowned, setting his tea down. It was too cool to be enjoyed, anyway. “What I actually need from you is?—”
“You know,” Cyra continued, taking a bite of her jam-covered toast, “I have heard rumors of an underground organization attempting to rise against Queen Elowyn.”
Asher intended to chide her for interrupting him, but the information she gave so freely was disturbing. As a councilor to Queen Elowyn, he was usually privy to such matters. But the queen had a rule, politics and the like were not to be discussed during Midsummer. It was the one time of year she strictly enforced a recess from all court discussions.
He propped his elbow up on the table, leaning forward. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
Cyra glanced around to ensure none of the servants were lingering too closely. But it was just the two of them in the room, as always.
“It’s true. There is word circulating through the houses that Prince Aspen is a tyrant, and he’s just waiting for the most opportune moment to get rid of his mother.”
“And by ‘get rid of,’ you mean…?”
Cyra slid her finger across her neck, imitating the slitting of one’s throat.
He grimaced. He was going to have to make more of an effort to correct her demeanor and social etiquette if he ever expected to find her a suitable match.
Shaking his head, he reached for the teapot, topping off both of their cups. “Where did you hear such a thing?”
“Males talk. Drunk males talk even more.” She smoothed her hair, running her fingers along the strands of fiery red that faded to a pale gold. “But it doesn’t matter where I heard it because I believe it might be true.”
“How do you figure?” He couldn’t quite believe he was having this conversation with Cyra, but if there was any truth to what she was saying, then he needed to stay informed. Whether it was murmurings of a rebellion or embellished gossip that could easily be dismissed, he’d rather not take any chances until he knew for sure.
“Lord Nyxian and Lord Tovian of House Celestine have recently set sail with a High Prince of Faeven.” Her lips pursed, as though considering her next words. “It was all very hush-hush.”
Indeed.
He’d not heard anything about it. But Nyxian and Tovian were Novalise’s brothers, and if what Cyra said was true, then perhaps he could gather a bit more information from Novalise. Assuming she ever spoke to him again.
“Do you happen to know where they’re sailing?” he asked, curious how his sister could come across such pertinent information while he knew absolutely nothing. Maybe there was a benefit to attending all these absurd social engagements after all.
Cyra heaved a sigh, thoroughly disappointed. “Unfortunately, I haven’t figured that part out yet.”
Asher rapped his knuckles lightly on the table, musing to himself out loud. “Sailing…but Aeramere doesn’t have a naval fleet.”
“Not yet,” Cyra countered, though it sounded more like a warning.
