Page 111 of Starchaser
“What choices?” I ask slowly, my heart pounding painfully against my rib cage.
Mother just shakes her head. “Morana has been watching you, Aster. Listening to your conversations. There is a… connection between the two of you.”
I get to my feet, my head throbbing. I think about the Shifter—how he said we shared a connection, one that allowed him to influence my feelings, both emotional and physical. He was capable of that kind of control becausehisvenom surged through my veins, but Morana… “Connected how?”
Mother sighs. “I couldn’t tell you before. We can’t be certain who is spying for Morana. It could be anyone. I thought it would be safe to tell you the truth once we’d come home, but—”
“Home,” I echo, looking up to find Father watching me carefully, hesitantly. I remember what Mother said just after I learned she was Dawnrender—about the heir of Hildegarde having received a portion of the Lightbringer’s power. And how Morana came after me at the wedding—not to turn me into a Shifter, but totake backsomething that belonged to her. My vision swims, and it feels like the floor shifts beneath me. “But if the Red Island is our home… If she”—I cut a glance at Orella, perched on the opposite sofa, her crown glittering in the sunlight—“is our aunt—your sister, an Oberon—aqueen—then…”
“The descendants of Hildegarde have guarded this island and its secrets since Hildegarde used the True King’s power to form it out of the sea,” Orella says, her big, round eyes kinder even than Father’s. “The power is passed on from generation to generation—from firstborn to firstborn, transferred at the time of their birth.”
Orella hesitates, and Father clears his throat.
“I was the firstborn child—”
“And rightful king,” Orella adds, as if scolding her brother.
The ghost of a grin touches his lips. “Until I abdicated the throne to a far better choice,” he says with a pointed look at Orella.
“When Owen was born,” Mother says, her voice quieter than I’ve ever heard it, “the power went to him.”
Father’s expression darkens, his eyes glazed with memory. “Until the night you were bitten.”
Mother covers my hand with both of hers. “You were too weak to survive it on your own,” she says, her voice choked with tears. “You were only a child. Even with the enchantment…”
“No one survives the fever,” Father says, his brows pinched. “You needed the True King’s power—the power of the Lightbringer.”
Owen’spower.
“It had happened only once in the history of the Lightbringer that a living heir could transfer their power to another,” Orella says. “That was four hundred years ago, and it killed the heir who surrendered their power.”
Father nods, his mouth pressed in a tight line. “We didn’t even ask,” he says. “We wouldn’t have known how. Owen just… knew what to do.”
“He lived,” Mother says, her gaze searching my face. Shereaches up, her calloused fingers caressing the bruise on my cheek, her touch unnaturally warm. “And so did you.”
I move so suddenly I feel as if I might faint, searching for the exit, but Charlie is there to steady me, his hands on my shoulders.
I turn, facing Mother and Father, their faces golden as they beam up at me, and it feels wrong. Everything feels wrong.
“All this time,” I say, shaking my head. “It was…me?”
Father’s expression is solemn, his voice reverent when he says, “The power is yours, Aster. You are the living heir of Hildegarde.”
“I’mwhat?” I sway, butLewis and Charlie steady me.
“Well,we’reprinces,” Lewis says, wriggling his eyebrows. “Truthfully, I always knew I was meant for a life of royalty.”
“She just found out she’s a princessandpossesses unfathomable power,” Charlie says, shooting him a disapproving glance. “Must everything be about you?”
Lewis opens his mouth to say something else, but the double doors open behind us, and two women in dark tricorn hats enter the parlor. The pirates skirt around my brothers and me and bow first to Orella before kneeling on the rug in front of Mother.
“We’re sorry to interrupt,” the first starts.
“But we have the information you requested,” the second finishes.
Mother dips her head, and her expression shifts from that ofmy mother to that of the captain—to that of Dawnrender. “Very well,” she says, and the two pirates rise.
My eyes narrow on the two women—their raven hair so black it’s almost blue.
