Page 192 of Blood of the Stars

When she finished, she patted the tie, then continued staring at it, gripping his arm as if she needed the connection to say what was on her mind. But her mouth stayed closed, her mind a jumble of words she didn’t know how to put together.

Gaeren’s voice startled her.

“You once told me there was something wrong with your magic.” He studied the ground. “That it was pushed to an unhealthy limit by Arvid and Vera, and now you can’t seem to rein it in.”

She nodded, trying to shift from the hard thing she had to ask to this new topic, which sounded equally difficult.

“I don’t think that’s quite right.” He pointed at their feet, where more than a dozen daisies grew, some still sprouting, others unfurling by their shins.

Her face heated. “They grow when I’m distressed. The first time it happened, Vera told me about the magic in my blood. It was the first time she took my blood, too.” Several more blossomed as she spoke, as if the memory spurred on more heartache that required more release of her magic. “It’s a curse.”

“No, that’s not right.” Gaeren’s jaw tightened and his brow furrowed. “It happened hundreds of times when you were a child. It started from a place of joy. Maybe Arvid and Vera twisted it into something else, but I wouldn’t have called you Daisy if it weren’t for—” He let out a frustrated sigh and tousled his hair. “I wish you remembered.”

Aeliana thought of Felk and the mix of joy and sorrow on his face after Gaeren had shared their memories. “Can you show me?”

His eyes softened, the vulnerable expression quickly replaced by the mask of his normal smirk.

“You were an impetuous child. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He placed his hand over hers, solidifying her hold on his arm, spreading his warmth through each of her fingers.

Her mind flooded with hazy images. She gasped, squeezing his arm tighter as the visions made her dizzy. Warmth brushed her forehead, then the weight of his forehead against hers served to both anchor her and bring clarity to the images.

A dimpled toddler towered over where Aeliana lay before launching on top of her with earsplitting giggles. The same toddler standing, arms reaching to her waist—begging to be lifted up. The weight of the child on her back as she ran through the forest. As the images revolved, Aeliana realized she was seeing everything from Gaeren’s perspective as a boy, and the toddler with curly brown hair was her. They splashed in the creek and rolled down grassy hills, each place oddly familiar. A field of daisies spread before her, and a chain of them grew in her hands—Gaeren’s small boyish hands—before she let the toddler take it. Her younger self held it up to her neck and fastened it like fine jewelry.

A peacefulness settled over her, a feeling she hadn’t remembered ever experiencing, a comfort and warmth that brought new meaning to the word “home.” Her chest tightened as her parents came into view, their kiss making Gaeren duck his head, which let Aeliana see herself as a toddler, racing for her parents, who then welcomed Gaeren into their family’s hug.

The daisies kept returning, some in the field where they spent most afternoons, but some by the creek or the house, forming as the toddler grew excited or burst into laughter. Her chubby hands always scooped them up, offering them to the nearest family member as a physical token of her love.

The images seemed to go on forever until at last her mother shoved her—or Gaeren—aside, telling him to take Aeliana to the creek. Cold fear laced through her bones as they ran and hid, as she made one last daisy chain to distract her younger self. The last images left her breathless as Arvid and Vera came into view, and a blinding light took them all away.

When the images disappeared, it took Aeliana several moments to reorient herself to the woods with pines instead of oaks, the rising Sun instead of the blackness of night. Her cheeks were wet with tears, and Gaeren’s forehead still pressed against hers. She stayed that way for a moment, wishing she didn’t have to break the contact and feel his absence. His breathing shifted, and she knew he’d pulled himself from his own memories, and still they sat, hands clasped against his armband, foreheads pressed together, breath mingling.

“I never stopped looking for you,” he whispered, finally breaking the spell. He pulled back and used his thumbs to wipe the tears off her cheeks, even though his own lashes were wet. “I promised your mother I’d keep you safe. But more than that, I promised myself. If I couldn’t keep you safe, how could I keep a queen safe—an entire nation?” He dropped his hands and looked away.

“I’m safe now,” she said.

He let out a short, bitter laugh, a reminder of what was to come that afternoon. Stars, it made the thing she’d brought him out here to ask that much harder.

“Thank you for sharing that with me.” She squeezed his hand, waiting for him to meet her gaze. “I needed to see that, to know. The safety I felt—that’s what I’m fighting for tonight.”

“The safety you felt was mine.” His sad smile made her long for his smirk. “It was my memory, so you felt my feelings. I’ve never felt more at home than the days I spent with your family. With you.” His expression shifted into something unreadable, and he pulled his hand from hers, scratching at his palm. He looked away, and she realized how close they were. How the distance likely didn’t feel strange to him when he saw her as a little sister, but how it felt uncomfortably intimate to her, especially considering they were each bonded to someone else.

Her bond mark itched, but she ignored it and held out the second strip.

He took it without comment, frowning as he tied it almost too tightly around her upper arm.

“I have a favor to ask of you,” she said. “It’s not fair for me to ask, especially after what you showed me, but it’s for the good of Vendaras, and I know you care about Vendarans.”

He eyed her warily, not making any promises.

She sighed and forged ahead. “Obviously our goal is to find my mother and my blood before Mayvus can brand me. If everything goes right, that’s how this night will end. And you know how fond I am of Sylmar’s backup plan.”

A hint of Gaeren’s smirk returned, bolstering her courage.

“I know you don’t want them doing blood magic either.” The weight of the vial in her pocket suddenly tripled with her guilt. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to use it, but if she did, Gaeren might never forgive her. “So, if things don’t go as planned, I think you should keep Jasperus from branding me.”

He laughed. “I doubt I could stop him unless I killed him, and that’s exactly what you’re trying to avoid.”

She brought her gaze to his and lifted her chin. “You could stop him if you kill me.”

---