Page 67 of Promise of Darkness
Thalia picks at my bread roll. “If you knew the things I know about your mother, you might not say that.”
I daresay I wouldn’t.
It’s surprising how easily I believe her. Mother’s always claimed the kingdom of Evernight is ruled by a circle of vicious, power-hungry bottom crawlers who dabble in the dark magics of the Unseelie kingdom, but I’ve seen little in the way of evil brewing, and after being raised in her court, I think I’d recognize it.
The moment’s a breathless one.
What if we Asturians aren’t the ones on the right side of this entire war?
Did my mother push us into a war against a kingdom that’d done nothing wrong?
It’s been brewing for so long, a series of brief skirmishes that the Alliance holds in check from full-blown war, that I can barely remember what started it.
His wife.
The thought stabs at me. My mother took his wife from him, and he’s never forgiven her.
“I didn’t scare you off, did I?” Thalia jests. “You look like you’re going to throw up on the grapes.”
“I’m fine. Just dwelling on… unpleasant thoughts.”
“Well, I suppose we were talking about your mother. That’s as unpleasant as topics of conversation come.”
I pick at a grape, rolling it between my fingers. I’ve tried to discover the truth, but to no avail. When Thiago locked me away in Valerian, he severed my connection to the world. But now…. “Tell me something…. How did the prince meet his wife?”
Thalia rears back. “I think you’d best ask Thiago that.”
“I’m asking you.”
She hesitates. “Princess—”
“Vi,” I insist.
“Vi,” she says, meeting my eyes. “It was thirteen years ago—”
No wonder I can’t remember. I would have been barely eight or nine. Nine, I think. My birthday’s near the autumn equinox, though I haven’t celebrated it in years.
“They met at the Lammastide rites,” Thalia continues, her voice growing wistful. “He loved her the moment he saw her, and she must have owned the same feelings, for they married the next day. Why are you asking?”
“No reason.” I see her eyes narrow. “Beyond the fact we were speaking of my mother, and I was thinking of the war between our kingdoms.”
“Adaia resented the marriage,” Thalia mutters. “War had been brewing over the Mistmere territories, but it only erupted when she stole the poor girl away. She wanted to hurt him, and she succeeded.”
“What happened to her?”
“I… I don’t know. The queen only ever sent… pieces of her back.”
It makes me swallow. “Fine. My mother’s the evilest bitch in the entire Alliance. I win.”
I can’t help thinking of the prince.
He loved her.
And my mother destroyed her. Imagine opening a box and finding the finger of your loved one? Or worse….
My mother’s been known to send hearts instead.
“Seeing me must cause him no small amount of pain,” I whisper. Imagine looking into the eyes of your enemy’s daughter every day? “I can’t believe he doesn’t hate me for it.”
