Page 109 of The First Spark
Kalie flicked a lock of hair over her shoulder. Father’s mistress and her courtiers had disappeared, so she marched down the hallway. “Why should I? It’s not like I care.”
“She’s our mother?—”
“She’syourmother. She hasn’t acted like my mother in a long time.”
“Because you chose a different one. A different home, different family, different parents.”
She staggered to a halt.
“And personally, if you don’t feel a shred of sympathy for a woman whose husband keeps screwing mistresses who look like his dead lover, then I don’t blame Mother for not caring about you.”
Pinpricks of guilt seeped in, but Kalie pushed them aside, focusing on the depths of her ire that she reserved for Mother and Selene alone.
“She poisoned his favorite one, didn’t she?”
Theron’s nostrils flared. “Mother didnotpoison Daphne.”
“What, I’m supposed to take your word for it? You were seven. Father thinks she did it, and she had motive. For gods’ sakes, she handed them the glass!”
“She didn’t need to do it. She’s an Empress, and Daphne was just Father’s whore. Mother still had the crown.” Theron’s jaw tightened,and his voice turned dark. “It’s not as if she’s ever enjoyed Father’s company.”
“Daphne was different, though,” Kalie fired back, as he led her around a corner. “She was a noblewoman, not another harlot, and she was pregnant with his son. He wanted to divorce Mother for her. He would’ve ended their marriage, jeopardized our place in the line of succession—you don’t think Mother had motive?”
“You should be careful what you say here, Kalista.”
She threw her hands up. “Here we go again. You always take Mother’s side.”
“Because I’m the one who has to live with the guilt of—” With a pained noise, Theron averted his gaze. “If it wasn’t for me, she could’ve found a way out of marrying him.”
Icy air brushed across Kalie’s skin, freezing her veins. His face was back to its usual indifference, but his mask had briefly slipped and her always cold, stoic brother had looked agonized. Drawing her lip between her teeth, Kalie reached for his arm. He pulled away.
“Theron…”
“I know you’ve done the math.”
She stared down at her shoes. She hadn’t needed to; Aunt Calida had done the math about the pregnancy and the wedding, and she’d made her hatred of Father clear.
“It’s not your fault.”
“It’s not Mother’s fault, either. You think she wanted any of this?” Theron’s perfect posture sagged. “She’s a victim, not a murderer.”
Kalie couldn’t move her feet as Theron stalked away. Despite all the insults Mother had hurled at Aunt Calida, she’d always insisted Mother was blameless. But whatever they saw when they looked at Mother was clearly not the woman she knew, capable of nothing but grudges and insults.
Theron stopped. Slowly, he turned. “Do you know why we resent you, Kalista?”
Kalie met his eyes, though something in her heart cracked.Resent. Notdislike,notbegrudge.Resent.
“Selene and Danae will be married off to the highest bidders. Rian’s a king in name, but he’ll only ever rule under Father’s thumb.At least the three of them get to leave this court.” Theron yanked at his cufflinks and loosened his collar. His movements were sharp, jerky, nothing like the methodical prince she’d always known. “I’ll be stuck here for the rest of my life, watching our parents destroy each other, knowing this court will destroy my children, too.”
Kalie winced. It was too easy to see him standing between their parents, as he always had and always would, tearing himself apart in the process.
“None of us complain. We accept it as our duty. But you, the golden child Mother saved—and make no mistake, it was Mother who saved you from this court—you complain about the gift she gave you. A court you can rule without Father dictating your actions, the choice to marry whomever you want, a planet where you can raise children without fearing they’ll be murdered in their cradles.” Breathing heavily, Theron dropped his hands and met her eyes. “She gave you all of that, and you’ve never once thanked her.”
As he marched away, Kalie’s shoulders drooped.
Portraits of austere ancestors glared at her from the crimson walls. Ominous shadows curled at her feet, obscuring the slivers of sunlight sneaking through heavy black curtains.
She could’ve grown up here.
