Page 148 of Blood of the Stars

“What are we calling it privately?” Gaeren forced the question out in an even tone.

His father leaned forward, but his cloudy eyes still seemed distant. “The Islarans were preparing for war. They’d amassed an army. Mayvus protected us.”

The shards of ice in Gaeren snapped. “She killed an entire city. Thousands of our people. Innocents.”

“Sacrifices must be made in war,” the king said.

Gaeren stood, his parents’ indifference heightening his outrage. “We’re not at war.”

“Sit down.” His father’s words spilled out with disgust. “You’re getting involved in affairs you were never meant to take part in. Your efforts are more likely to reflect poorly on Enla than to do any good. You don’t have the stomach for this. You never have.”

Gaeren sat, the air rushing out of him. A peace wrapped around him, cocooning the anger in his heart. He tried fighting his mother, blocking the comfort the way his mentors had taught him. Despite the unnatural sense that everything would be fine, his father’s words still stuck in his mind, begging the question. “The stomach for it? Why would I want to have the stomach for killing my people? The children of the people I’m supposed to serve?”

“That’s not what Father means.” Enla placed a hand on his arm, her cool touch calming him further. He shook it off, knowing she’d activated her secondary spoke to help their mother. He’d told Enla he was following a lead to Islara. Had she told Mayvus? Had he played a role in all those deaths?

“I meant what I said,” his father barked. “You know what the people say about you?”

Gaeren let out a humorless laugh, thinking of Sylmar’s accusation. “I do, actually. That I’m foolish and young, oblivious to what’s going on in my country. They’re not wrong, but they will be.”

Shock flitted across his father’s features, digging a knife deeper in Gaeren’s soul. Gaeren’s new self-awareness surprised the older man, but not news of the dragon’s massacre.

They knew what had happened in Islara. They’d known this whole time, and they approved.

“We thought it would help you cope if you didn’t have to be directly involved in things.” His mother’s soothing voice ensured his cooperation and understanding, even though the moment he left the room, his frustration would return. “Early on you showed a distaste for the affairs of the crown. Your mentors confirmed it throughout your training.”

Exactly how many people had been a part of this mission to keep Gaeren in the dark?

“With Enla in line,” his mother continued, “it didn’t seem necessary to push you, so instead we let you drift away from the necessary hard choices that come with ruling.”

“Drift away…” He thought of his first year at sea as a cabin boy. He’d been so homesick he’d thought he’d die. When tossed by the waves during storms, he’d begged the Sun to have mercy and return him to the safety of his mother’s arms. Only when he’d returned, his mother’s arms had no longer felt safe. For the first time, he’d recognized the peace he felt near her had been manipulative.

Enla had changed that year too. She’d started attending council meetings and appointments with dignitaries from the surrounding provinces. She’d stopped laughing.

“You sent me to the sea to keep me away.”

“To protect your heart,” his mother corrected.

Even the thing he loved was now being tainted by his parents. He thought he’d been willfully ignorant of politics, but they’d manufactured even that.

“Is that why you sent me to Celanoft for my dedication year? You could have picked any Sungazer, but you chose one halfway down the eastern coast.”

His father snorted. “Hardly. We chose Celanoft because Mayvus suspected the priestess was a Wyndren plotting for the throne. We sent a spy as your servant, and he confirmed Mayvus’ suspicions.”

Gaeren’s chest expanded, unable to hold the fire building within. “Breck?” He hardly remembered the man. Breck had been a new servant, and hadn’t returned from Celanoft. “He was a spy?”

“We should have sent a soldier,” his mother admitted. “Breck was killed in the skirmish, and no one knew what happened to you. We thought—we thought you were dead.” The break in her voice hinted at love somewhere deep down. It meant little to Gaeren at this point.

“You never even asked me what happened,” Gaeren said, but it was the last thing on his mind. His parents were the reason Emeris and Rildan had been caught. His parents were the reason Daisy had been stolen away, taken to Lorvandas and raised by horrid wielders of blood magic.

“You said they’d all disappeared and asked us to investigate.” The king leaned forward, eyebrows raised. “We assumed you knew nothing and wanted to keep it that way.” It was clear he expected an explanation if Gaeren knew more, but Gaeren wasn’t interested in giving his side of the story. Not anymore.

“So now what happens? With Mayvus?” The question showed none of the anger brewing inside him. For once, he was grateful for his mother’s interference, the way her projection forced him to discuss the future objectively. He pulled down some of his mental blocks, allowing her comfort to settle his shaking hands.

“Mayvus has been high priestess in the Myndren Mountains for over a decade,” his father said. “Her loyalty is unmatched. Because of her demonstration in Islara, we’ve awarded her full control of the eastern province.”

Gaeren’s gaze swung to Enla, but her eyes were closed once more, as if guarding her mind, even though their father was a destructive somatic and their mother could only project emotions, not tune in to other’s.

Unless Enla was guarding her memories from him.

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