Page 2 of To No End

And there it was. The truth, like a dull knife—what I had asked for. The answer to why my mother looked horrified and my father couldn’t bring himself to meet my gaze.

I should have been in shock, yelling in disbelief, or possibly crying. But that’s not me. In times of distress, I lean into my overly logical side and usually all I have is questions, endless questions.

But the ever-present bond between me and my twin sister was itching below the surface, and suddenly there was only one distinct question burning to be asked.

“What about Versa?”

The bobbing of my father’s throat told me everything I needed to know before he even spoke.

“We are only required to deliver one of you to King Aeon, and since your sister was recently betrothed, it did not make sense to go back on our word to that family.”

The words stung my father more than they did me. I already knew that if only one of us was required to go, there wasn’t a chance in three moons that Versa would be the one selected. She had recently been promised a most favorable match. One that was going to seal a relationship between families leading to years of wealth and prosperity. If I was being honest with myself, it didn’t make sense for Versa to go anyway. I hadn’t a clue what serving the king and the realm even meant, but despite appearances, Versa and I were very different.

We were both considered stunning by Fae standards, but Versa had a unique quality where she just…glowed. When we entered a room, people’s eyes settled on her, not me. She was more delicate in every way, from her dainty collarbones to her polite disposition; she’s what most would want from a young lady of a High Court family. Well-bred, well-behaved, stunning, and ripe to bring even more beautiful babies into the world.

I, on the other hand, shared a face with my sister, but I was sturdier in every sense of the word. I was strong, fast, curious, and in all ways unsettled and unrestrained. My mouth and intellect often got me in trouble, and I was most certainly not amenable to betrothals.

Despite all that, I still had ideas and plans for a future of my own—one that I was in control of. But now it seemed the king would dictate my path. And while maybe I could come to terms with that, it was that last part my father mentioned that began the stabbing ache in the depths of my chest.

I would never get to see or speak to my family again. To my other half, my twin. I think this was the part I struggled most to grasp, more so than being sent away to serve the realm.

I snapped myself out of the endless well of thoughts and turned to my mother. “What does that mean? Serve the king and the realm. What will I be doing that requires I never see you again?”

My mother looked at my father almost in anger, before she spoke, as if this was something she too wanted answers for.

“The Offering is a secret. Only the High Lords and Ladies pay the price with their children’s lives. Those with offspring who meet the age of conscription must answer the call with one daughter or son. No one but the families themselves will know who is offered…” My mother trailed off, trying to remain impassive.

My father attempted to fill in the gaps, still seeing the confusion washing across my face.

“The pain of your absence will not be our only suffering. We will not know where you are, what you’re doing, who you’re with”—his voice cracked as he struggled to choke out the remaining words—“or if you’re safe. It will torture your mother and me for the rest of our days. I don’t even know if Versa will be able to carry on, which is why…”

“Which is why she must not know the truth!” My mother finished sharply, sensing his inability to complete the sentence.

“Aren’t they going to notice all these sons and daughters of the High Court are missing? NoticeI’mmissing?” I asked incredulously.

“Each family will create an elaborate lie to account for their sons’ and daughters’ absences. Versa must not know the truth. It would absolutely break her. You two have been attached at the hip since your first namesake. She’d never be able to carry on not knowing if you’re okay.”

I leaped up from my armchair, “And it won’t break you?” I shouted at my mother.

“I’ve been broken since receiving word the Offering had been called, my strong-willed daughter… And the only solace I will have is the belief that whatever this is, wherever you’re going, it must be honorable. Important. It has to be. King Aeon is good and would never take the sons and daughters of the North on a whim. I choose to believe that being called upon isn’t a death sentence, but an opportunity, and that your life and the lives of the other High Fae will not be given in vain.”

My father reached out to place his hand on top of hers. It was then I witnessed the tears streaming down her face, reflecting the light of the nearby fireplace.

“The Offering has not been called upon in over two hundred years, not since before the war ended. We’re told never to question it, but I can’t help but worry about what this forebodes for Cambria. And like your mother, I choose to believe if you are needed, there is a damn good reason my daughter is being taken from me.”

Now my father’s anger matched my mother’s from earlier, and I could feel his magic beginning to ripple in the warm air of the library. He rarely ever showed his abilities; it wasn’t proper, he’d say. While their concern was beginning to boil over, I was quickly becoming numb to my fate.

“So, what now?” I shrugged, disbelief and apathy deadening my tone.

“Your mother and I will determine the lie that your sister, family, and friends will be told. Then, in thirty days, we will deliver you to King Aeon as the Offering calls for,” my father explained.

I rose to my feet, itching to pace, to run or scream, a roaring need to unleash building inside of me. “And what am I supposedto do during that time while you two spin elaborate lies about my upcoming disappearance?”

My mother stood and grabbed my shoulders. “Oh Cress, you do whatever your heart desires while your life and your freedom is your own. Fate be damned,” she sighed.

She looked me dead in the eyes fiercely, holding a hand to my cheek with all the love a mother can offer. “No one can know what your fate holds once in the king’s hands. But you have our complete blessing to live the next thirty days selfishly. Unapologetically. Drink the nectar that is freedom while it’s within your grasp. I am only sorry that I cannot promise you that for the rest of your days, as you most certainly deserve. As we all deserve.”

My mother dropped her hand and squeezed my shoulders, embracing me. And that’s when she whispered the words that cut like daggers.

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