Page 36 of To Steal the Sun

He let one of her hands go, raking his fingers through his hair. “When I said that in Ranost I thought—I assumed—you’d discovered the same truth I discovered ten years ago. But I just learned from Charlotte that you probably don’t know it after all.” He swallowed. “I couldn’t leave you here believing a lie. After everything that woman has done to you, I couldn’t leave you even the tiniest bit more vulnerable to her.”

Gwen frowned, utterly lost. “What are you talking about? What did you find out ten years ago?”

“She isn’t your mother.” Easton spat out the bald words. “Celandine is your stepmother, not your birth mother. It’s just another one of the secrets she forced the court to keep from you.”

Gwen’s mouth dropped open. “What are you talking about? Are you saying I’m not really the princess?”

“What? No!” He groaned. “I’m fumbling this. Your parents were king and queen when you were born, but your mother died in childbirth. Celandine was King Isander’s second wife.”

“I…” Gwen’s head spun. “I don’t…”

She staggered and Easton rushed to right a toppled chair for her. Its upholstery was torn, but Gwen sank onto it anyway, raising a hand to her head.

“Celandine is my stepmother.” She said the words slowly, like she was trying to absorb them. “My father’s second wife.” She looked up at Easton, lost. “Why would she lie about something like that?”

He shrugged uneasily. “To ensure your loyalty maybe? She’s obsessed with loyalty.”

“Is that why she didn’t come with us to the lodge?” she muttered. “Did my father leave her back at the castle because she wasn’t my real mother?”

“What?” Easton frowned at her.

It was her turn to shrug. “It’s a little thing, really, but I always wondered. I don’t have any memories of my father before his final illness—I was too young. I don’t remember anything from before that at all. My earliest memories are of that trip to the lodge, so I’ve thought of it often since. I remember his death so clearly. I guess it’s the sort of thing that sticks with you.” She shivered.

Easton didn’t say anything, his expression turned soft and compassionate, so she kept talking. “I was so excited to be by myself with him, but at the same time I was terrified because I somehow knew he was going to leave me. I don’t think anyone had told me directly, but I knew. When he died, I cried and cried. I thought I was going to be left all alone in the world. I can still remember the relief when Celandine walked into the room and picked me up.”

She scrubbed a hand over her eyes. “She used to get so angry when I tried to bring up that time and those memories, so I quickly stopped talking about it altogether. But I always thought it was a little strange. I remember the relief of her arrival so vividly, but it wasn’t attached to any feelings of love. I wasn’t glad to see her specifically, I was just glad someone was there.” Her voice dropped. “I thought there must be something broken inside me because what sort of small child doesn’t love their mother? I tried so hard to find memories of her from before the lodge trip, sure I would feel the love in those, but I could never recall anything from before. And all the time, I wondered why she wasn’t on the trip with us. If she had been, I would have remembered her, and that meant so much to me—to remember my mother from before.”

She sighed. “I have this memory of Count Oswin—a much younger version of him—telling me how much my father wanted to spend time just with me. It made me feel so guilty. I was the reason my mother missed out on my father’s final weeks. And I always wondered if maybe I’d been the one to insist she didn’t come—because I didn’t love her the way I loved my father. Maybe that’s why she’s always been so cold toward me ever since.”

“I remember how hard you tried to love her when you were a child.” Easton stared at her. “I couldn’t understand it given the way she treated you. Is that why?”

Gwen nodded. “But this information changes those memories completely. The love wasn’t there because I didn’t even know Celandine. She wasn’t my mother, she was almost a stranger!” Her brow creased. “But when did she marry my father? They must have been newlyweds. How could he have left her behind?”

“Your memories must be mixed up,” Easton said. “Celandine was there at the lodge—that’s where you both met her. They were married at the lodge only a week or so before King Isander’s death.”

Gwen stared at him, fresh shock washing through her. “Are you saying she wasn’t part of the court?”

“Apparently not. My parents said they’d never heard of her before she appeared after the king’s death with you in tow.”

Gwen swallowed, her mind whirring. “She appeared at court and claimed to have married my father on his deathbed and everyone just believed her?” Her voice rose at the final words, and concern sprang into Easton’s eyes.

Gwen leaped to her feet. She was shaking again, but she no longer felt weak. Instead, she blazed with fury.

“She had their marriage certificate and all the relevant papers,” Easton said uneasily. “And while there were minimal servants and guards at the lodge—that’s its purpose—the ones who were there all backed up her story. The count said…” He trailed off, brows lowering further and further as he watched her face.

“I told you I have no memories of court from before my father’s death,” Gwen said slowly and carefully, “but I clearly remember the weeks at the lodge. I’ve gone over and over those memories a thousand times in the years since. My father was desperate to spend every minute with me. He had a little bed set up by the window of his room so we never had to be parted. I was with him every moment, except when his manservant was helping him wash. And I never saw Celandine until she walked into the room after his death.” She enunciated each word of her final sentence carefully and clearly.

“Are you saying…” Easton began, and Gwen finished for him.

“If Celandine didn’t marry my father before we went to the lodge, she never married him at all.”

Easton fell back several steps, his face paling. “So it’s…all a lie? The whole thing? Not just being your birth mother but being the queen? Everything!”

Fresh fury ripped through Gwen. “No wonder she wouldn’t let me talk about my father’s final weeks and refused to ever take us back to the lodge! And no wonder she had everyone lie to me. She must have been terrified about what I might say. She must have either bought off the servants and guards at the lodge or used an object to enchant them, but I was the one witness she couldn’t buy.”

“So instead she tried to undermine, silence, and manipulate you.” Easton’s fury now matched her own. “If only we’d had this conversation ten years ago. We could have confronted her together in front of the court and—”

Gwen suddenly deflated, the righteous anger draining out of her. “And what? You said she has papers and witnesses and what do I have? I have no proof.”

---