Page 15 of A Storm in Every Heart
“Yeah, but you should see them in the water.” Jett gives an affected shudder. “It’s nightmare fuel. No offense, Dessa.”
The corners of my mouth tip up. “None taken.”
Jett grins at me before he puts his head back down on his hands. I’ve always appreciated Jett for somehow understanding that I don’t like being stared at, but I would rather die than complain about it and appear to be begging for pity.
“I doubt it’s because of your appearance,” Fox says, interrupting my thoughts.
“Care to elaborate?” Daemon asks.
Fox looks pained, the same way he always does when he has to explain anything. “She’s essentially your sister. It’s obviously about an alliance.”
“There hasn’t been a land war between kingdoms in centuries,” Daemon argues. “Why the fuck would Hydratta need an alliance like that?”
“Everyone knows that Thermia is becoming increasingly isolated,” I say slowly. “No one really knows what’s going on up there and Vernallis is physically between Hydratta and Thermia. Maybe they’re thinking long term “
Daemon looks contemplative. “That’s possible. Not that it matters. You’re not fucking going.”
My back stiffens at his statement, not because I disagree but because it’s so final. As if it’s not my choice to go…not that I would.
“What’s so wrong with Hydratta?” Aurelia asks.
Rather than answering, Daemon looks annoyed at the door. “Where the fuck is Kas?”
“Come on Ashwater,” Jett says with a roll of his eyes. “You don’t need Kastian to be here to explain the problem—not when nearly everyone already knows.”
“Fine,” Daemon growls. “Kastian is the last remaining member of the former royal family of Hydratta.”
A silence follows his statement and I glance around the room judging everyone’s expressions. I’m only a little surprised that hardly anyone looks as if this is news. Alix is examining her nails, Jett looks excited, and the only person who looks confused is Aurelia—and perhaps Fox, but it’s hard to tell.
I suppose it makes sense. Daemon and I have always known Kastian’s secret, and at some point I assume Daemon told Alix. I understand that Jett and Fox were unaware the entire time they were all trapped in Dyaspora together, but since then Jett has become the court spy and if no one told him, he obviously worked it out on his own.
“Well with that out of the way…” Alix shrugs awkwardly.
Daemon puts both his palms on the table and leans forward, his gaze intense. “The current King of Hydratta used to be an advisor to Kastian’s father. Decades ago, Magnus Von Bargen staged a successful coup and his soldiers killed Kastian’s mother and three sisters. His father, the king, was kept alive and tortured as a message to anyone who might oppose the coup, but he eventually died too.”
“How did Kas survive?” Fox asks without inflection.
Daemon shakes his head. “No one knows, but for some reason they spared Kastian and sent him to prison instead. I always assumed it was because he was the youngest.”
“Why would that matter?” Alix asks, her brow furrowing.
“Because killing children is extremely taboo,” I explain.
Alix holds her hands up, counting on her fingers. “He wasn’t a child though…right?”
“Not technically,” Daemon replies, “But we live so long that socially you’re hardly considered an adult until around thirty. It’s definitely possible that’s why he was spared.”
Everyone around the table nods in benign understanding, except for Alix whose brow furrows. “So murder is all fine and dandy but you draw the line at killing teenagers?” she asks sarcastically.
“Yes,” Daemon says flatly, throwing her a sideways glance. “You know justice is handled differently here than in the human realm.”
“I know, but it just seems a little trivial. If he was thirty would they have killed him without thinking twice about how honorable it was?”
“It’s not about honor,” I cut in. “It’s more of a superstition. Fae believe killing a child will curse you with decades of misfortune. The belief probably comes from the fact that we don’t have many children to begin with. Kastian had sisters, but that’s very unusual. Most Fae only have one child.”
I glance around the table. No one contradicts me which I assume means that everyone here is an only child—well, except for Daemon and I, but we’re not really siblings.
More importantly, no one seems surprised that I know so much about this. Perhaps they assume that Daemon told me, or perhaps it simply hasn’t occurred to anyone. I’d like to keep it that way.
