Page 1 of A Legacy of Stars (The Lost God Legacies)

1

STELLA

S tella McKay was jealous, but that was nothing new.

Her earliest memory had been jealousy. At three years old she’d been outraged that her mother was giving her new brother, Leo, so much attention when Stella was used to having it all to herself.

Twenty years later, as she watched Prince Arden Teripin spin yet another lady around the Godsball dance floor, Stella’s jealousy morphed into something new and more spiteful.

She fought a burning impulse to pour her wine all over the woman’s pale pink dress.

Like most of the other eligible women in the Godsball tent, Arden’s dance partner wore a pink dress to honor Goddess Desiree. There was a smattering of other colors around the room to honor other gods and goddesses, but almost every young woman open to courting wore pink in homage to the goddess of love.

Stella lifted the loose curls that had slipped out of her updo to stick to the back of her neck in the evening humidity and chided herself.

Her envy was irrational.

Arden looked at her every time he circled the dance floor and caught a glimpse of her teal gown. She had his attention and, more importantly, his heart. This was just an act. Arden had to give equal time to every eligible lady until they announced their betrothal, but watching women believe they had truly charmed him made Stella itch.

Stella drained her glass of bubble wine in one burning gulp.

The quick-paced folk waltz was catchy, but it had been going on long enough now that it was certain to be stuck in Stella’s head for a week.

Her parents spun by in a swish of silk. They were a touch too close to be appropriate at court, but no one ever gave them judgmental looks. Her parents were a fairy tale come to life, a soul-bonded witch and her guardian, a love stronger than death. Cecilia Reznik and Rainer McKay had a legendary love story and Stella wanted one too.

Stella had seen enough of her friends’ parents bickering to understand that hers were deeply in love, but at times it was exhausting. Like when she came in to check on dinner in the afternoons and found them making out on the kitchen counter like teenagers, or when people told her how much she must be wishing for the same kind of love and asked about her suitors, or when their love made it feel impossible to measure up.

Everyone acted like it was a choice. Like her parents had just decided to fall in love. Really, it was pure luck that they’d been bonded as children. Few people were lucky enough to meet the love of their lives at six and eight years old.

Stella was certain that if she and Arden had that same advantage, they’d be similarly in sync.

The song came to an end and the musicians launched immediately into a slower melody that brought more couples to the dance floor. Stella stared at each duo as they spun by, trying to place their masked faces. Despite the fact that, in the past two decades, the wealth and class gap in Olney had narrowed, the Godsball Masquerade was still a night that honored anonymity as much as it honored the gods and the kingdom’s history .

Unlike the Godsballs of old that her parents had told her about, Olney now distributed community funds to local dressmakers to ensure that everyone who wanted to attend could afford fine clothing that would allow them to blend into the crowd. Above all, this event was meant to kick off the Summer Solstice Festival and promote unity between the southern kingdom of Olney and their northern ally, Argaria.

Stella smoothed her hands down the star flowers stitched to her bodice. Their bright white petals stood out against the vibrant teal silk and matched her delicate flowered mask that signaled she was honoring her mother. Cecilia wore a similar teal dress, as if their resemblance didn’t make it clear enough that they were family. While her mother’s dress had a slimmer skirt that suited her petite stature, Stella was glad to be tall enough to pull off a full ball gown.

Leo stepped up beside her and nudged her with his elbow, handing her a fresh glass of bubble wine. “I thought you’d be out there with your prince.”

“So did I,” she grumbled. Telling Leo and their younger sister Rosie about Arden was a choice she made out of necessity—she’d needed them to help her sneak out to meet the prince—but Stella wished her brother was a little less smug about knowing her secret.

Leo grinned, ran a hand through his hair, and nodded at a group of ladies as they walked by. He had such an ease at social gatherings. From their first season out at eighteen, she’d felt nothing but awkward while Leo slipped into court life as if he’d always belonged there.

Even Leo could admit it was easier for him. People didn’t hold him to the same standard. A woman was judged on every nuance and flaw while men were applauded for simply being respectful. The bar was set so low that Leo could hop it with little effort.

Stella had learned from the moment she entered court as an adult four years ago that there was no end to the flaws others could find in her. She was too quiet about the things people wanted to hear and too loud about those they didn’t, too quick to leave a party early, too often underdressed for the occasion, quick to anger, slow to forgive, not social enough, not skilled at music or singing, and, most baffling of all, a bit too tall. As if she could will herself to shrink.

Her mother, Cecilia, had been quick to dismiss every bit of criticism, reminding Stella how far the world had come for women to still be held to such simple standards. But the gentler her mother was with her, the more frustrated Stella felt.

“How late are you staying?” Leo asked, adjusting his black silk mask so it sat more flush to his face. The silver embroidery on the mask matched that of his tunic. He was clearly trying to honor Grimon, the god of death. Their Uncle Grim , as they affectionately referred to him, wouldn’t be caught dead in something so ostentatious. Stella had only ever seen him in black clothing with blacker detailing.

Though he wasn’t related to her by blood, Stella had always felt particularly close to Grimon because he visited so frequently.

“I think I’ll stay a little while longer. I didn’t miss the nine bells, did I?” Stella asked.

Leo shook his head. “Have a date?”

Stella cocked her head and scowled at him. “Don’t you have some ladies to lead on?”

Leo grinned. “They’re being led. Don’t worry. It’s almost nine. I checked the hourglass on my way into the tent. Why?”

“Just wondering how much longer I have to force this smile on my face.”

“I hate to break it to you, but the force is obvious,” Leo said dryly. “You look like Mama when she’s been at a tea too long.”

“I swear I try not to but it’s a terribly dull party.”

“Why not talk to Kate?” Leo nodded at Stella’s best friend, who stood across the tent by a table covered in rainbow-colored cakes, stacks of biscuits, and a huge mask sculpture made entirely of various fruits.

Kate chatted animatedly with a group of ladies, their colorful dresses catching the golden candlelight as they leaned toward each other to whisper. Stella normally spent most of these events at Kate’s side, but she didn’t want to be scolded for sneaking off .

Stella twisted her hands in her dress. “I’m just not feeling especially social. All anyone wants to talk about are suitors and it’s so hard to lie.”

“Then why not tell the truth?” Leo asked.

“You, Rosie, and Kate are the only ones who know and I intend to keep it that way until we’re ready to tell everyone. I’m trying to be discreet.”

Arden was supposed to marry a politically advantageous wife and, though Stella was a perfectly appropriate match, rising political tensions meant that Arden’s choice of spouse would be under extra scrutiny. They had decided together that it was best to keep their relationship private for now.

“You’re not even supposed to know anything yet,” Stella said.

Leo cocked his head to the side. “Then you should have been more discreet. I’m honestly shocked no one else has noticed. Arden is better at hiding it, but it’s written all over your face.”

Stella smacked his arm. “Mind your business. Go chase skirts.”

Leo grinned. “No chasing required. I let them come to me.”

Stella didn’t know why he had this sudden insistence on acting like a rake when he was so sensitive deep down, but she wasn’t about to confront him about it. Leo had always needed time to come to things on his own.

Several ladies at the corner of the dance floor giggled and whispered to each other, their gazes darting to Leo. He winked at them.

“You’re gross,” Stella huffed. “Someday you’re going to have to rely on something other than your handsome face and you’re not going to have anything to say.”

“That’s future Leo’s problem.” He glanced across the room at the king and queen of Jeset and their daughter. “You think I could land a princess?”

Stella laughed. “Not on your best day.”

Leo faked a wince. “Your lack of confidence wounds me.” His eyebrows shot up. “Don’t look now but your boyfriend is going to beat me to it.”

Stella whipped her head around just in time to see Arden bow and kiss the hand of the foreign princess and gesture toward the dance floor. She gracefully followed him. The crowd parted and hushed, staring at the beautiful royal duo walking to the center of the room.

Just seeing Arden with a princess in his arms was like watching a glimmer of her worst nightmare unfolding in real life.

Of course, Princess Eleria Zim of Jeset couldn’t be ugly or clumsy. She was beautiful and moved gracefully with Arden. She wore a fiery red dress woven with orange and red feathers that made her look like a phoenix.

“Who’s she supposed to be anyway?” Stella grumbled.

“Some foreign goddess? Who cares? She looks beautiful,” Leo said.

“You’re not helping,” she muttered.

Leo shrugged. “Fine, you’re on your own. I have people to see anyway.”

With that, he bumped Stella’s shoulder and sauntered over to a group of ladies who had been eyeing him for the past five minutes.

Stella turned back to the horrors of the dance floor.

Arden gave her an uneasy glance before smoothing his face into his usual charming smile as he spun the princess around the floor.

Stella looked over the crowd, searching for just one person who wasn’t completely entranced. Unfortunately, the only gaze she caught was her mother’s.

Cecilia looked from Stella to Arden, her eyes narrowed.

She can’t know . Stella’s mother had an unnerving and supernatural way of reading people and situations and it took enormous effort for Stella to hide her feelings for the prince.

Cecilia frowned at Arden and Eleria and then looked at Stella again.

Stella schooled her face into calm indifference, but the second Arden dipped the princess and the crowd began to murmur, her control slipped. She grabbed a glass of bubble wine and a napkin from a passing waiter.

She gulped the wine, ignoring the stinging bubbles. She set the empty glass on a nearby table and tried to dry her sweaty palms on the napkin.

Arden’s charm was so natural and magnetic. He glowed and his rapt attention had always made Stella feel like the sun was shining just on her. He was like that with everyone; it was a gift for a prince to be so sincere and so good at making people feel heard and understood. Stella had known him her whole life and still felt the same rush when he spoke to her. It was hard to blame other women for being so charmed.

Stella tried to reason with herself that Arden was just being a gracious host—that’s why he was whispering to Eleria. The princess tipped back her perfect chin, elongating her graceful neck, and laughed. Her jet-black hair shone in the candlelight. Everyone in the tent seemed just as transfixed by the princess.

Stella twisted the linen napkin in her hands. She was certain she’d never looked so elegant while laughing. But Eleria was graceful in every movement and everyone in the room was riveted.

Anger burned in Stella’s chest. Could she so easily be replaced?

“Stell-bell.”

Her father’s voice startled her from her fuming, and she dropped the linen napkin she’d been holding.

Rainer’s gaze lingered on the hand-shaped scorch mark on the white linen. “What has you so upset, Little Star?”

She shook her head and rearranged her smile. “Nothing. I’m just too warm and I’ve had enough fun for one night. I think I’ll head home soon.”

Her father studied her. She hated lying to him. They’d always been so close, but if he knew that she was sneaking around with the prince before marriage, he’d not be a brute like most fathers. He’d do something so much worse, like sit Arden down and have a conversation with him about respect. That was a humiliation she would not survive.

Her father eyed her skeptically and nodded to the napkin. “It’s been a long time since you sparked without trying.”

Stella flushed. Fire magic was her primary affinity, and it was usually well-contained, but it had always followed her emotions. When she was angry, she was known to burn a dress or cause all the candles in a room to become temporary torches. She hated the lack of composure because it proved what everyone always said about how witches’ temperaments matched their strongest affinities. It was embarrassing to be the stereotypical example of a hot-headed fire witch.

Stella shrugged. “It’s just an off night. Where’s Mama?”

Rainer nodded to the dance floor, where her mother was dancing with King Marcos. The two of them were speaking animatedly. Her mother laughed and swatted the king’s arm. You could do things like that when you had saved the kingdom more than once.

“She wasn’t always like this at court events,” Rainer said. “She used to be so grumpy anytime she had to get dressed up, and she didn’t like how I flirted with other girls.”

Stella shook her head. Her father still got plenty of female attention, including from her best friend Kate, who mooned over him in the most revolting way possible.

“It’s hard to imagine her being anything other than natural. Everyone loves her,” Stella said.

Rainer laughed. “I promise it wasn’t always like that. You’ll grow into it too. Or you won’t and you’ll just find something you enjoy more than court events. Just don’t take it so seriously.” He glanced around the room. “I haven’t seen you out there dancing. Is there no one you’d like to dance with? I see quite a few lonely guardians around the room.”

Stella wrinkled her nose. “Papa, if you try to set me up with a nice young man , I swear I’ll never come to a court party again to avoid the sheer embarrassment of needing my father to make an introduction. I’m fine not dancing.”

Rainer chuckled. “Someday, Little Star. Someday you’ll meet someone you want to tell all your stories to.” He kissed the top of her head and disappeared into the crowd.

He’d been saying that to her since she was young, but Stella had begun to doubt it in recent years. She always felt she had too many edges for court. Despite her best efforts to smooth herself, she always seemed a little too sharp and cutting with her words and looks.

While she got on with most of the ladies, it never ceased to feel like work. She could never quite relax and she always felt like an extension of her parents. She wasn’t Stella McKay. She was Rainer and Cecilia’s daughter.

Perhaps Leo and Rosie felt the same way, but neither of them had ever said so and they both seemed so relaxed.

“I like your edges. They’re what makes you you,” Arden had once told her when she lamented not being softer like her mother.

She smiled at the memory. That was what she loved about Arden. They balanced each other out.

Mercifully, the song ended, and Arden bowed and kissed Eleria’s hand just as the castle bells rang out.

Finally, Stella would have Arden to herself for a few precious moments. She tracked him as he politely excused himself, whispered to his guard, Falon Everett, and walked out of the tent.

The minutes dragged until finally Stella allowed herself to dash out of the tent and into the garden. She followed the familiar path through the queen’s garden, rounding the corner to her favorite rosebushes, the ones she walked to with her mother and Rosie every Saturday morning, and skirting the hedges to approach a darker, more secluded spot.

She’d barely cleared the hedge when strong arms grabbed her and tugged her against a firm chest. She bit back a yelp as she looked up at Arden’s playful grin. He’d slid his mask up on his head so she could see him clearly in the moonlight.

He kissed her, slowly, his hands roaming down her bodice, pulling away to whisper in her ear.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve seen all day. All life, if I’m being honest.”

Their time together was always frenzied, rushed, snuck into stolen moments in corners, closets, or the occasional castle guest room. It was thrilling, but Stella wanted what everyone else had—the time and space to go slow. She wanted to show the world their love .

They had known each other since they were children, but nine months ago, those years of friendship had shifted into something new.

She’d been standing on the beach, staring out at the waves, trying to assess if the surf was too rough for her morning swim. Arden was out for a run and stopped to talk to her. A quick conversation about storm tides had turned into a three-hour walk along the edge of the sea.

Stella had never had such an easy time talking to anyone, but Arden was such a good listener and he was one of the few people who could understand the pressure that came with being such a public figure.

She’d thought it was a one-time thing, but Arden started meeting her once a week to walk and talk, and, two months later, at the harvest festival, he’d brought her a bouquet of daisies, taken her for a walk in the gardens, and kissed her for the first time under the harvest moon.

The past seven months had been a blur of sneaking away to see each other every chance they could get, but Stella was ready for more.

“When are we going to tell everyone?”

Arden turned her so he could meet her gaze, his dark eyes bright with lust. “I have a plan for that. Something that my parents will have to honor. The last day of the festival, just before the Gauntlet Games start. I will give a speech to the people and I’m going to introduce you as my betrothed.”

Stella frowned. “What if your parents are upset? I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot.”

Arden shook his head. “Nonsense—my parents love you already and our families are so close. They won’t fight me on this. I’m certain.”

“If they don’t want you to marry a foreign princess, then why is Eleria here?”

Arden blew out a frustrated breath. “Stella, you know this is what I must do to ensure peace for now. Please, I have so little time with you this week. I don’t want to talk about whatever foreign princess my parents are foisting upon me. I want to enjoy my time alone with you.”

Stella sighed. She knew it was true. The rebel group, the Sons of Endros, had been making trouble for years, trouble that was only escalating. The mild vandalism she’d seen in her youth had turned into more violent, destructive crimes in recent years. But each time the Teripins had a foreign princess at court, the havoc died down, at least temporarily.

“You know what happened last month,” Arden said.

Stella shuddered thinking about it. The Sons of Endros had murdered one of the most avid supporters of women’s marriage sovereignty and left his body in the town square under their sigil as an offering to Endros, the god of war. The Sons were staunchly opposed to all of the work Arden’s mother, Queen Ilani, and Queen Jessamin of Argaria had been doing to give women the right to choose their own partners, instead of being married off by their fathers.

“That’s why they’ve scheduled this visit for the Solstice Festival and the Gauntlet Games,” Arden said. “If the Jeset royals are in town, they bring their own extra security, and that means things will go smoothly over the next few weeks.” He ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “Let’s not waste our limited time together on worries. I don’t want to talk about some other woman when you’re here looking unbearably beautiful and we’re finally alone.”

Arden kissed her and all the doubt in her mind burned away in a flash. She slid her hands up the front of his tunic and he kissed her deeper. The routine was practiced. He was careful not to ruffle her dress as he hiked it up over her legs. She was not nearly as careful, running her hand through his dark waves and tugging him closer. There was something so intoxicating about being alone with him. There was such a reverence when the people spoke to him, but every time she looked at him she only saw her warm, sweet, romantic Arden.

His hands trailed up her inner thighs and she shivered. The anticipation was almost enough to make her groan. It had only been a few days, but this was right. This was what she’d been needing so badly.

Stella sighed into his mouth.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured, kissing along her jaw. “I can’t wait until I can have you anytime I want. I want the world to know you’re mine.”

A throat cleared. Stella froze and saw her panic reflected in Arden’s eyes. He practically threw her off his lap, hopped to his feet, and buttoned his pants. He tucked his shirt back into place as Stella smoothed her dress.

Arden’s guard, Falon, stepped around a hedge. “Sorry, Your Grace, but someone just stumbled into the garden. It sounds like they’re getting sick.”

Arden nodded. He looked as disappointed as Stella felt as he pulled her into one last quick kiss. “I’m sorry.”

Stella smiled weakly, shoving down her frustration. “I know.”

“I love you. Soon we won’t have to hide. I promise,” Arden whispered.

With that, he ducked away with Falon on his heels.

Stella adjusted her dress and hair and waited a moment before walking back through the garden. Just inside the entrance, a woman was bent over, vomiting into a bush.

“Are you—” Stella’s words turned to a gasp as the woman turned to look at her. “Mama?”

Cecilia’s usually rosy cheeks were pale and her eyes glassy in the torchlight. “I’m fine. A bit too much bubble wine.”

They stared at each other in the half-light. Her mother was a terrible liar. The joyful noise of the party grated against the seriousness of the moment.

“You’re never sick,” Stella said at the same time Cecilia said, “Not a word to your father.”

Stella stared at her mother. Her eyes were shadowed a bit, but she was otherwise so well-preserved that people occasionally mistook her for Stella’s older sister. While Rainer’s hair had begun to go a bit gray around his temples, Cecilia’s was still dark and wild, not a hint of dullness in its vibrant color.

Now her skin—porcelain and glowing most of the time—looked sallow.

“Will you get me some mint and water from the refreshment table?” Cecilia rasped. “I won’t have your father worrying. You know how he can be. He loves something to fuss over and I’d rather not be his new project.”

Stella forced her face into a tight smile and nodded. She swept into the tent as stealthily as she could, trying to slow her thoughts. Both of her grandmothers had died of the wasting disease. Stella had worked at the healer’s clinic with her mother long enough to know the signs of it. It always started the same—with fatigue, lack of appetite, and vomiting.

She gathered some mint in her trembling hands, trying to recall if her mother’s appetite had been normal in recent weeks. Her recollection was perfect thanks to her memory magic, but the power only perfectly preserved memory when she was paying attention. Frantically, she called on her magic and sorted through her recent memories.

She’d been so concerned about her relationship with Arden over the past few weeks that she’d scarcely noticed much else. Stella forced herself back to the present moment, the perfectly preserved memories dissolving as she opened her eyes to the party. She grabbed a glass of water and dashed back to the garden where her mother was waiting.

Cecilia swished the water and spit it into a bush before ripping off a few mint leaves and chewing them. She drank some water as she chewed more leaves and her color slowly returned to normal.

“Gods, you look like your father when you’re worried,” Cecilia said. “Stop frowning like that. This happens to women my age. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I’ll see Lyra at the clinic on Monday and all will be well.”

Stella frowned. Her mother was barely old enough to be going through that particular change, and as far as she knew, vomiting wasn’t a symptom.

An intuitive knowing hung between the two of them like a thread pulled too tight.

“Little Star, go back and enjoy the party, and don’t give this another thought. It was probably the heat and the wine. I’m going to have your father walk me home?—”

“I’ll come with you,” Stella insisted.

Her mother shook her head. “Nonsense. You’re young. You should have your fun. What were you doing out here anyway?”

Stella looked away. “Looking at the roses.”

Her mother bit back a laugh. “Oh really? I’ve spent an evening or two admiring the roses myself. I hope you’re being careful and using your monthly preventative spell so you don’t have any rosebuds of your own before you want them.”

“Mama!”

Cecilia brushed Stella’s cheek with her fingertips. “I’m not judging, and I don’t need to know who he is. All I care about is that he’s treating you well, that he respects your wishes, and that you’re being responsible. And gods help us, do not let your father figure it out. He likes to pretend like I’m the protective one, but he’ll be insufferable and I doubt you want him sitting your beau down for a lecture.”

Stella nodded and walked back into the party without any further urging. Her cheeks still burned with humiliation. She waited for her mother to walk by. As soon as Cecilia passed, Stella rushed from the tent, tearing down the trail to home.

The house was dark, but she followed the glow of candlelight up to Rosie’s room.

Her younger sister was awake in her bed, a book of their parents’ fairy tales open on her chest. “What’s wrong?” she asked as soon as she saw Stella’s face.

Stella considered telling her. All she’d wanted was a few precious moments alone with Arden. Instead, she’d stumbled upon a terrible secret.

Rosie was old enough for the truth at twenty and she was also a talented healer, so she’d likely know more symptoms. But she looked so peaceful and Stella couldn’t rob her of it. What was a big sister’s job if not to protect her younger siblings? She’d been doing it for Leo and Rosie since they were all young. More than once she’d set a handsy boy straight or threatened a bully in Leo’s training program.

Stella cleared her throat. “I was just sad that you decided not to join the party tonight.”

Rosie frowned. “I don’t feel ready for all of that attention.” She set the book aside and sat up straighter. “That’s not why you’re upset.”

“No, it’s not.”

They stared at each other for a long moment.

“Can I sleep in here?” Stella whispered.

Rosie nodded, her brow drawn in worry, but she said nothing. That was the best thing about her sister—the way she understood when silence was best. Stella unbuttoned her dress. It slid down her body, puddling on the floor. She smoothed her chemise and unpinned her hair, slipping into the bed beside Rosie.

Usually it was Rosie sneaking into her bed when she had a bad dream or was worried about something, but her sister didn’t seem concerned by the shift in roles. She just smoothed Stella’s wild hair.

“Let me tell you a story,” her sister whispered.

Rosie opened the book, and, as she had so many times before, Stella let the tale carry her away from her worries for a while.