Page 9 of Broken Star

That, combined with my resemblance to the Summer Queen, is nearly impossible to process. Not to mention that I hadn’t anticipated learning about my heritage at all on this adventure to the Summer Palace, let alone in a single blow.

“Damien came to the Summer Court twenty years ago on a diplomatic mission,” Lysandra says, and while her voice remains steady and controlled, a flash of emotion crosses her eyes. “He was seeking an alliance against a pair of rogue vampires who were causing chaos in both our realms. An alliance that led to an unexpected consequence—a child.”

“Vampires can’t reproduce,” Riven cuts in before I can say anything, his voice edged with suspicion.

“Correct.” Lysandra nods at him, then returns her focus to me. “However, I created a potion that made it possible. You see—I wanted Damien to rule beside me as my consort. When he refused and returned to the mortal realm, I opted to not tell him about the pregnancy. Instead, I hid it, eventually giving birth privately to a child who was both fae and vampire. A combination that would likely get that child killed the moment anyone discovered what she was.”

My throat tightens. The world around me blurs. The fountain in the center of the room churns, responding to the storm of emotions I can’t contain.

“I’m that child,” I say, since by now, it’s more than obvious. “Yours and Damien’s.”

“Yes,” she calmly confirms, as if she didn’t just send everything I knew about my entire life crashing to the ground. “I bound your magic, found a woman in the mortal realm who had just given birth, and switched you out with her human child. I did what was necessary to keep you safe.Alive.”

It shouldn’t be a surprise. After all, everyone around here believes they can decide how to keep me alive, whether I agree to it or not.

“But you’re a queen,” I finally force out. “If anyone could have figured out a solution that didn’t involve abandoning me in another realm, it should have been you.”

“Even a queen cannot defy the basic instinct of fearing the unknown,” she says. “And you, Sapphire Solandriel, are an unknown worthy of fearing.”

“Hayes,” I quickly correct her. “SapphireHayes.”

She laughs—a twinkling, musical sound that drips with amusement.

“You are SapphireSolandriel,”she repeats. “Princess of the Summer Court.”

I frown, working through this in my mind. It doesn’t make sense. None of it does.

But I can think of only one logical retort.

“You said my father is Damien Fairmont,” I finally say, leveling my gaze with Lysandra’s. “Which means my name would be SapphireFairmont.”

Well, technicallyPrincessSapphire Fairmont, but the royal title sounds so absurd that I can’t bring myself to say it.

“I am the Queen of the Summer Court,” she replies, as if I needed reminding. “Mortal naming rules do not apply here. Your name is Sapphire Solandriel.”

Riven moves slightly beside me, and I snap my focus to him.

“I advise you stop arguing with the Summer Queen,” he says, irritatingly calm as he looks down at me. “Princess SapphireSolandriel.”

Wind gathers around me as I glare at him with enough force to break him.

But of course, he’s unfazed. He never breaks. Not like I do.

He’s just smugly standing there while I finally get answers about myentire heritage,having the nerve to give me a hard time about it.

“In case you needed a reminder in this past hour, I hate you,Prince Riven Draevor,”I snap at him.

“No reminder needed.” He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t flinch. He just smirks, slow and deliberate, like this was exactly the reaction he wanted.

And then, as if this conversation is nothing more than a casual exchange, he turns to Lysandra and asks, “Now, tell me, Your Majesty. Do you find your daughter’s dramatics as charming as I do?”

Lysandra raises an eyebrow, makes her way back up to her throne, and takes a slow, deliberate seat.

“Do I sense a lover’s quarrel?” she asks, excitement dancing in her eyes as she looks back and forth between me and Riven.

“We arenotlovers,” I bite out before Riven can twist it into something worse.

“Well, we were.” He tilts his head slightly, as if he’s recalling a fond memory instead of a complete disaster. “But don’t worry, Princess Sapphire Solandriel. I don’t take it personally. I’ve been told I’m hard to forget.”

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