Page 43 of Heirs of the Cursed

“I know enough. I know that goddesses sometimes unite two souls before they even possess a body.”

“Not all unions are bound by the Triad. There is a bond older than their birth,” he explained. “A bond of stardust and powerful magic. The Fatis Asteria aren’t merely mates, but opposing souls united by a greater destiny.”

“But as opposing souls . . .”

“They are destined for destruction,” Dyron finished for her.

Naithea hadn’t heard of the Fatis Asteria until now and, by the strong and rapid beating of her heart, she knew that her curiosity did nothing but grow.

There was so much for her to learn. She didn’t know at what point she’d doomed herself with the disease of ignorance. Naithea wanted to blame those months on the streets after her mother’s death and on her job for keeping her from knowledge.

Yet she knew it would be unfair, for the reason she hadn’t stopped to admire the foundations of the kingdom she lived in was the belief of a better world; a world that hadn’t betrayed her nor abandoned her to sell her body for money and lose pieces of herself.

“It’s different when it comes to the Anam Cara. If the bond is granted by Kuheia, then their relationship will tell a story of love and hope that may last for the rest of eternity. But if Kazaris bestows it, such a bond can be a curse.”

“What kind of curse?”

“Death.”

Her eyes scanned the dusty pages, a new thought already taking shape in her mind. “They are doomed to die for each other,” she deduced. “A bond destined for destruction, a bond destined for oblivion and—”

“A bond destined for eternity.” He nodded.

“The bond Kirus and his betrothed shared.”

“Yes. But don’t be so easily fooled, Ra.” Naithea’s mouth went dry, caught off guard by that nickname. “No one in this world is forced to love, even if there is a bond that assigns it so. Although Kirus and his betrothed were Anam Cara and meant to love each other forever, the claws of fate destroyed all that could have ever been. It isn’t always born out of hatred, but out of disappointment and fear.”

The hope her sisters had about a requited love would shatter into pieces if they heard those words.

As if Dyron had heard the thread of her thoughts, he said, “While the Fatis Asteria and the Anam Cara of Kazaris can destroy and die for hate and love, the Anam Cara of Kuheia represent a more explicit bond: one that tells that love isn’t always enough to save the world.”

“She didn’t love him,” Naithea blurted out.

“No. Her heart belonged to someone else.”

“I don’t know whether to believe her betrayal was a brave or a stupid thing to do.”

He laughed. “Why not both? Decisions one makes from the heart require incredible courage. And yet, it was stupid to believe she could run from the consequences rather than face them.”

“What were the consequences?” she asked without taking her eyes off the book.

“King Ivarion blamed his son for the betrothed’s withdrawal, and in a fit of rage, tried to kill him,” he replied.

“I don’t see how that would affect the daimon. Of all things, it would help her to get away from him once and for all.”

Dyron pointed a spot on the sheet with his elongated and crooked fingers for her to follow.

The Dance of the Dethroned King and the Murderous Queen.

Beneath the title, Naithea read the story of the former king of Lên Rajya and how his wife, Saenella, had poisoned him. She had been judged a traitor to the Crown and taken to the gallows, where she had been hanged by her own son.

“It says nothing here about the assassination attempt by Ivarion.”

“If you had the power to determine which parts of the story to tell, would you not erase those that made you look weak?” he asked. “Kirus may have survived his father’s fury, but he turned his mother in without batting an eye.”

“That’s how he became king. That’s why you said he crowned himself.”

“Precisely. His impatience led him to proceed without the Council’s approval and that was the beginning of his kingdom’s fall.”

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