Page 124 of Crown of Storm and Silence
"I'll be close," he promises, his hand squeezing mine briefly before he moves to engage the Light Court representatives in what will undoubtedly be a carefully polite exchange of veiled threats.
I approach my brother with measured steps, noting how his shoulders tense as he becomes aware of my presence. When he turns to face me, his perfect features carry guilt that no amount of diplomatic training can completely hide.
"Nesilhan," he says quietly. "You look radiant. Pregnancy suits you."
"Cut the pleasantries, Zohan," I reply, keeping my voice low enough to avoid eavesdroppers. "We need to talk."
His jaw tightens, but he nods toward the balcony doors. "Perhaps somewhere more private?"
We step onto the stone balcony overlooking the Shadow Court's gardens, the cool night air a relief after the heated atmosphere of the ball. For a moment, we stand in silence, and I'm struck by how different he looks—still beautiful, still perfect, but carrying a burden that wasn't there before.
"How long?" I ask finally.
"How long what?" he replies, though we both know he's stalling.
"How long have you been reporting to the Light Court? How long have you been feeding them information about my marriage, my pregnancy, our political situation?"
His face shifts, the careful mask slipping to reveal genuine anguish. "Since the beginning," he admits quietly. "Since before your wedding."
The confession hits like a blade between ribs. "Before?"
"Father arranged it," he says, the words emerging like they're being torn from his throat. "The marriage contract, the reports, all of it. He said it was necessary to protect you, to ensure the Light Court maintained some influence over Shadow Court politics."
The pieces fall into place with sickening clarity. "Father orchestrated the entire marriage."
"Yes," Zohan whispers, his perfect composure finally fracturing. "He manipulated the situation with the shadow adviser you killed, made sure it would require a marriage alliance to resolve. He said it was the only way to ensure your safety and maintain regional stability."
The betrayal goes deeper than I imagined. Not just my brother's deception, but my father's manipulation, reachingback to the very beginning of my relationship with Kaan. Every choice I thought I made freely, every sacrifice I believed was mine to offer—all of it orchestrated by someone who claimed to love me.
"Why?" I manage, though my voice emerges as barely a whisper.
"He said the prophecy made you valuable beyond measure, that various factions would try to claim or eliminate you if they knew what you could produce. A marriage alliance with the Shadow Lord would provide protection while giving us intelligence about shadow realm activities." Zohan's hands clench into fists. "He made it sound like salvation."
"And you believed him."
"I wanted to believe him," Zohan corrects miserably. "I wanted to think there was some greater purpose to your sacrifice, some way it could serve the greater good instead of just being... what it was."
"Political convenience wrapped in pretty lies," I finish for him.
We stand in silence for a moment, the sting of betrayal settling between us like a chasm. Through our bond, I feel Kaan's concern—he's monitoring our conversation from inside, ready to intervene if needed, but giving me space to handle this confrontation my way.
"There's more," Zohan says finally, his voice so quiet I almost miss it.
"More what?"
"More that I've started to suspect." He turns to face me fully, and I see something in his eyes—a haunted recognition. "About Father. About what he's really been doing all these years."
"Zohan—"
"I think he killed Mother."
The words land between us like stones into still water, ripples of horror spreading outward. My hand instinctively goes to my chest where her music box once rested against my heart.
"What are you talking about?" I breathe. "The Shadow Court killed her. I saw the burns?—"
"You saw what Father wanted you to see," Zohan says, his voice growing stronger with grim conviction. "Mother was a healer, Nesilhan. She'd built trust with both courts through decades of tending their wounded without prejudice. That's why she was chosen as peace negotiator—both sides respected her neutrality."
"The shadow burns were real?—"
