Page 116 of Starchaser
I think about how I didn’t remember meeting Titus.… Could that have truly been one of my happiest memories?
“Why didn’t I remember being bitten, then?”
Bellaflor grimaces. “It was such a painful experience,” she says slowly, shaking her head. “Our mind has its own ways of protecting us from things we’d rather not remember.”
I nod, even as tears spill onto my cheeks. The realization that it wasn’t magic suppressing my memory—it was only because the memory was just too painful to relive—makes it that much worse, somehow.
“What about Owen?” I ask. “Wouldn’t he remember saving me? And my siblings… wouldn’t they have known I was bitten?”
She winces. “Your brothers and sisters weren’t there when the Shifter attacked. Only Owen. He’d followed your father ashore, and you’d chased after him. If you hadn’t…”
If I hadn’t, I would never have been cursed. Owen would still be the heir of Hildegarde.
“When he transferred the power of the Lightbringer to you,” she says, “he woke with no knowledge of the Shifter’s attack or what followed. Your parents thought it might be better that way—never knowing he’d had the power to begin with, or that he’d been the reason you were attacked in the first place.”
Even though I wish I didn’t agree with the way my parents kept yet another secret from us both, I understand. I remember what Will said to me the day we observed Father’s burial rites.Sometimes, people keep secrets for reasons we could only understand if we found ourselves in their position.
I think about how I didn’t tell Margaret or the others about Owen’s role in Father’s death. Mother and Father wouldn’t have wanted Owen to blame himself for leading me ashore, even if hedidgive up the power of the Lightbringer to save my life.
Bellaflor works quickly, braiding my hair in a crown atop my head and applying a light, rosy sheen of powder to my cheeks to detract from my sickly appearance. All the while, she tells me her story. How she knew Father since he was a child, and when we were children, she sailed with us aboard theLightbringer, taking care of my siblings and me when Mother and Father were acting on Order directives. I remember, now, how my older siblings had faint recollections of an elderly woman who sailed with us for a time but went ashore one day along the Cutthroat Coast and never returned. I learn from a teary-eyed Bellaflor that Mother asked her to keep an eye on Titus and that she spent years in servitude at Castle Grim, watching over both him and Will.
“Have you seen Will?” I ask as she pulls my coat over my shoulders.
She nods, a crease forming between her brows. “Poor dear. He insists on staying locked up in that brig; he’s so frightened.”
It’s as if I’ve taken a blow to the chest, knocking the wind from my lungs. I open my mouth, but before I can ask anything else, Bellaflor takes me by the arm and turns me so that I’m facing the cheval mirror in the corner of my room.
“Oh!” I gasp, taking a step closer to my reflection, wanting to get a better look at the details of my coat. The simple trousers, linen shirt, and boots are a welcome reprieve from complicated gowns, and I’m delighted to find that I have full range of motion. But the coat…
Sapphire blue, the color of the sea just before the sun sets, that falls to my knees, thick and warm to protect against the cold nights at sea, sturdy enough to provide some protection against a blade but lightweight enough to allow me to move deftly and with accuracy. Gold and silver threads embroider the collar, sleeves, and trim, and the entire surface of the fabric is embellished with stars that appear to glitter, twinkling with every movement as if infused withManan.
“He kept this one aboard theStarchaser,” Bellaflor says, smiling wistfully. “Just in case.”
“Titus found this?” I ask, running my hands over the soft material, like velvet to the touch.
Her eyes twinkle with adoration. “He had it made, just for you. He was very specific about what he thought you might like.”
I know I should say something, but all I can do is stare at the coat. At the details Titus chose simply because he thought I’d like them. “It’s beautiful,” I finally manage to choke out. “Did you… you made all my gowns, didn’t you?”
Bellaflor grins, her expression softening. “They were all his ideas,” she says. “I just brought them to life.”
A knot forms in my stomach. Each gown he chose, every article of clothing—he put so much thought into the fabrics, the designs.… It’s hard to picture him describing such beautiful dresses to his “Auntie Bella,” but I can almost see his face—see his broad smile, his glittering eyes—and my heart splinters into a thousand pieces.
Before I can even begin to put them all back together, there’s a knock at the door, and Bellaflor opens it to receive Orella.
The queen—myaunt, a concept I’m not sure I’ll ever get usedto—wears a gown made of gold silk, her face bare, body free of jewelry but for the crown of gilded seashells atop her wavy hair.
She smiles sadly, but her eyes sparkle with mischief. “I thought we could walk together.”
Bellaflor gives me a kiss on the cheek, still fussing over me even as I follow Orella into the hall.
“She never changes,” Orella says, grinning as she leads us out onto the bridge that separates the wing of the Pearl that houses my room and the main structure of the palace. Behind the palace, clustered among the branches, the lights of Ember twinkle like the stars strewn about a dark green sky. The city goes on for miles, spread out through the jungle, thinning as it reaches the mountain—the volcano Orella calls “Samael.”
Orella pauses, leaning leisurely on the ropes, staring out at the ocean beyond. The canopy isn’t as thick here, allowing us a breathtaking view of the beach, where crowds have already begun to gather for the party beneath a dusky lavender sky. Among them, Elsie and Albert race barefoot, weaving between groups clustered together in conversation and diving under buffet tables. I spot Lewis balancing a skewer of fruit on his nose near the dessert table, and I smile at the way Eliza claps for him, head thrown back as she laughs with abandon. Charlie lingers nearby, chatting with a member of theStarchaser’s crew—I think her name was Nadine—and when she looks away to answer someone’s call, Charlie takes a long draught of his wine and smooths his hair, nervously adjusting his shirtsleeves. Margaret and Jack walk hand in hand as the tide laps at their feet, wholly absorbed in each other’s presence, as if they were the only two people on the entire island. Meanwhile,Henry sits at one of the long banquet tables, kicking the sand with his newly repaired leg, his expression dour as he watches them strolling along.
“That’s a beautiful coat.” Orella glances at me, her smile exuding warmth. “Where did you get it?”
My stomach twists, and I shrug, attempting to appear unaffected. “It was a gift.”
