Page 67 of The Curse of Golden Blood
Cherilda, daughter of Hasin, born 540 years after The Fall, 97th child of the Fog Court.
Theodora, daughter of Selune, born 282 years after the Fall, 119th child of the Cloud Court.
I skimmed through them, realizing they were records of every high fae child who had ever been born. Each one, meticulously documented, from the moment of their birth until the day of their death.
It was... strange. Creepy. And yet, fascinating.
The title now made sense. Faeries were born of golden blood. It wasn’t just a turn of phrase. I had heard it whispered before, in fragments of overheard gossip and in the half-remembered lullabies of my childhood. The blood of the first high fae had shone like molten gold beneath their skin, warm as sunlight and just as dangerous. The gods had made them radiant, untouchable…
Cursed.
Because faeries had never been meant to exist. They had been a mistake, a divine error that had turned them intoimmortal monsters. That was what the old tales said. The stories my sister had once told me.
I stared at the page, feeling a strange sense of dread. Golden blood. That was why the fae needed mortals, why they couldn't breed fast enough. And the Rot was another type of curse.
A cruel irony. A punishment for their sins.
Each court fed from a vice the gods had bound into their veins: Thunder from wrath, Cloud from greed, Fog from envy, Rain from gluttony, Wind from lust, Snow from sloth, and Sun from pride. They called them strengths, but in truth they were shackles, chains that would one day drag every court to ruin.
"Miralyte."
I looked up to see Narietta standing in the doorway. Her dark hair was combed back, and she wore a simple gown of dark green. A silver circlet rested on her brow, the stone glittering in the light. She looked every inch the princess she was, and for a moment I forgot that she was also a soldier, a warrior trained to lead the armies of Thunder.
"My lady," I said, getting to my feet.
She shook her head and gestured for me to sit. "I'm not here as your lady, Miralyte. I'm here as a friend."
I hesitated, then sat back down. She smiled and took a seat across from me, crossing her legs at the ankles. She seemed almost nervous, and I couldn't help but wonder what had brought her here.
"What can I do for you?" I asked.
"I just wanted to check on you."
I blinked, surprised. "Check on me?"
Narietta nodded. "I know it must be difficult, being so far from home."
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. I had no idea how to respond.
Narietta smiled. "You don't have to pretend. It's okay if you miss your home."
I swallowed hard. "I... I do."
She nodded. "I understand. I miss home too, sometimes."
"Home?"
"The Fog Court. It's where I grew up."
I frowned. "But you're Thunder."
"I know." She sighed. "It's a long story."
"I'd like to hear it," I said, curious. "If you're willing to tell it."
She bit her lip, looking at me for a moment, as if she were deciding whether or not she could trust me. Finally, she sighed and said, "My mother died giving birth to me. My father was furious. He... he never forgave me for that. So when I was old enough, he sent me away to Fog."
I stared at her, shocked. I had always assumed she'd been born here, in Thunder. But now...
