Page 16 of A Legacy of Stars (The Lost God Legacies)

16

STELLA

A rden was not waiting for Stella when she woke up the next morning, or after she’d braided her hair and prepped for her swim.

In the cool seawater, she tried to avenge herself against the growing anxiety in her chest with every stroke of her arms.

Arden didn’t love her anymore. Arden didn’t even care that she’d been hurt. Arden didn’t know what her favorite flower was.

It couldn’t be true. If he didn’t know her favorite flower, then why had he brought her daisies when he first started walking with her in the mornings? But ever since Teddy had said it, Stella could not shake the fear that it might be true.

Fuck Teddy Savero . She would not have some bitter prince spreading poison in her mind.

Each twist of her body through the water was agony, her side still savagely sore from the already healed wound. Though her goddess bloodline meant she healed faster than normal people, even without actively using her magic, it didn’t prevent her from feeling pain. The fact that it still hurt so badly and that she had needed help from a skilled healer was a clear sign of just how close she’d come to dying.

On her walk home from the beach, the visual she’d been trying to avoid all morning refused to stay buried any longer: Victor Schwoebleman’s bloody body. She wondered about the timing and if Rett and his friends could have had enough time to kill Victor after seeing her and Teddy. She replayed the memory in her head of when the death whispers had started and peaked, but she’d been burning Drew’s hands when they were loudest.

She shivered as she remembered the feeling of being watched. The Sons of Endros could have been lying in wait for her. Walking Teddy home might have saved them both. Gods, running into the Roach and his friends may have protected them.

Walking in the front door of the McKay Estate, Stella entered the living room and paused in front of the wall of portraits. Her favorites were the one of Cecilia standing next to her huntmaster father with a bow in her hands, one from Rainer and Cecilia’s wedding with her mother clad in a dress that looked like the night sky at dusk, and her favorite, a picture of a young Cecilia surrounded in a swirl of color, painted by the late Rosalee Reznik, Stella’s grandmother.

Stella closed her eyes and tried to imagine a portrait of her and Arden there next to the rest. She held the vision in her head as if she could make it happen with her will alone. What was a spell if not something woven from vision and words and will? She would make it happen.

She dashed upstairs and washed the salt water from her skin and hair with new resolve. Then, she ravenously ate the breakfast Rosie brought to her room. Healing was hungry work and she’d used her magic to fend off Rett and his friends.

Rosie watched her in quiet assessment from where she was sprawled on Stella’s bed, her fingers never leaving the silk thread and dried flowers in her lap. Her sister was always creating—always so visionary and happy in her solitude.

“Do you want me to bring you something else?” Rosie asked. “I know Papa made more. I’m almost finished with this string.” She knotted another flower into the line and then held it up.

“What’s it going to be?” Stella asked.

Rosie shrugged and smiled, a far-off look in her eye .

For a moment, she looked like her mother, Rosa. Stella was so young when Rosie’s mother lived with them that it was hard to remember much, but she remembered little things like the way Rosa’s eyes sparkled when she smiled and the way she always had paint on her hands and fingernails and a glow about her when she started a new project.

“You look like your mom when you talk about your art,” Stella said.

Rosie’s cheeks pinked. “Really?”

Stella nodded. “I never thought about it before because I don’t have my own full memories of her, just the ones Mama has shared with you. But there are these little things, faint moments that are mine. She would light up like you do when you’re thinking about what you’re working on.”

Rosie smiled and her eyes sparkled. Stella felt nothing but guilt for ever making her feel like their blood mattered. Love ran so much deeper.

“You never talk about her,” Rosie said.

“I don’t like to because I don’t like to remind you?—”

“That she’s dead?” Rosie smiled sadly. “I know she’s gone and sometimes I feel so guilty that she had to die so I could be here. But I always want to remember her.”

Cecilia had met Rosa at the healer’s clinic when she was coming in for prenatal visits. The two became fast friends because Rosa’s husband was a fisherman and she always scheduled the last appointment of the day in the hope he’d be able to come with her. He was rarely able to make it, which meant that Rosa was left with three-year-old Stella and Leo to entertain her.

When her husband was lost to a storm a few months later, Rosa was a pregnant widow with very little money to her name. Cecilia and Rainer had taken her in and let her stay in the family’s seaside cottage.

In Stella’s memory, it was a strange time because they moved from the cottage where she’d spent her childhood to the family estate. It seemed massive in comparison to the tiny house where she’d been born. But every day, Cecilia would take Leo and Stella to visit Rosa and they would get to see what she was working on.

“We spent a lot of afternoons with her. I remember she used to sneak me and Leo extra biscuits.”

Rosie laughed. “So you always had a sweet tooth like Mama.”

“Of course. I was so confused after she passed and you came to live with us and Mama used to take us down to the cottage to sit with you and it felt so empty without her. I think she’d love what you’ve done with it. It feels alive again. You’ve really made it your own,” Stella said.

Rosie preened. “I think she’d like it too.” She cocked her head and eyed Stella. “You’re being suspiciously nice. You don’t have to feel bad about what you said the other day. You already apologized and I know you only said it because you were angry. You’ve always had a temper but I know you don’t mean it.”

Guilt settled in Stella’s stomach. “Fine. Would you prefer to talk about Nathan Aiger?”

A blush stole up Rosie’s neck and cheeks. “There’s nothing to talk about. You don’t need to protect me, Stella. I’ve known Nathan a while, too. I know better than to get attached. It was just nice to have attention. It made me feel pretty.”

Stella frowned. “You are pretty. Beautiful, really. If you weren’t, Leo wouldn’t hover so much.”

Rosie smiled brilliantly and jumped to her feet. “I should go get these strung up.” She hesitated. “Will you be okay? I know last night was upsetting, and you were hoping to see Arden.”

Stella waved a hand. “It’s fine. I’m sure he has a good reason for being absent.”

Rosie frowned and, though she was much too kind to say it, Stella could practically hear her unspoken “ Doesn’t he always? ”

Rosie had always been Stella’s confidant in all things romantic and whimsical. She idolized their parents’ relationship as much as Stella did, but she clearly had patience that Stella lacked.

“I know you’re not sold on him, Rosie, but it’s like Mama says. There are things you can only see when you’re inside the relationship. No one knows the quiet things that happen away from prying eyes,” Stella said.

Rosie waggled her eyebrows, her mouth drawn in a teasing smile. “I bet they don’t. Though I wonder how quiet they are.”

Stella chucked a pillow at her sister. “Rosalee Maura McKay, was that a sex joke?”

Rosie deflected the pillow and grinned. Her cheeks were blazing, and she held up her hands in surrender. “All right, all right! I’m leaving before you ruin my hours of work.”

She gathered her flowers and thread and skipped out of the room, her pale blue dress billowing around her as she went.

Finally alone, Stella lay back in her bed, stared at the ceiling, and let the dread she’d been shoving down roll over her. Had there been an inquiry into Victor’s murder yet? Had they apprehended the men responsible?

It must have been chaotic. It would be impossible for Arden to get away now, but at least the upheaval might scare off his foreign fiancée and her family.

A light tap on the open door startled Stella from her daze.

Her father leaned against the doorframe. “Hey, Stell-bell? Why is the prince of Olney in our living room with two dozen roses?”

Cecilia appeared at his shoulder. “Oh? Are they white? Perhaps he murdered a friend of hers and thought some flowers an appropriate apology.”

Rainer rolled his eyes. “I was out of my mind, Cecilia. Flowers seemed a safe starting place. Will I never live it down?”

Her mother just laughed heartily as her father rubbed a hand down his face. They were always like this—full of quick, intimate teasing for which no one else had context.

Gods, Stella wanted that. She wanted a person with whom she could communicate only a few words and make them laugh that way.

Stella shot up in bed and smoothed her dress. “Is there something suspicious about a man bringing me flowers?”

“There’s something suspicious about a prince who shows up with two dozen roses from the queen’s garden,” Rainer said, crossing his arms.

Her mother laughed loudly. “Oh, is that what you’re worried about? History repeating itself?”

Rainer pinned her with a glare. “You should be worried about it, too.”

“Oh, stop. There’s no need for anyone to worry. I already had a nice talk with him,” Cecilia said in a way that very much made the word talk sound like a threat.

Stella pushed past her parents and took the stairs two at a time. Arden stood in the living room, looking handsome and exhausted. His dark hair was mussed, his eyes shadowed in circles, and there was a deep crease in his brow as he looked her over. The sunlight streaming through the windows to the garden made his golden-brown skin luminous.

Seeing him standing in her living room made Stella feel like she would explode with either relief or tears. Relief won.

“You’re in my house,” she said, still not quite believing it.

He thrust the roses toward her and finally smiled. “I am. Got a talking-to from your mother.” He read the panic in her eyes immediately. “She was fine,” he said. “Nothing I wouldn’t expect from the mother of a woman I’m courting.”

Stella stilled, looking from Arden to the roses and back again. “What about Princess Eleria?”

“Her parents have dissolved the betrothal contract, at least for the time being. They are staying in town and could change their minds, but for now, it’s on hold. My father thinks that was the entire point of that little stunt last?—”

Stella shot her hand out to press a finger to his lips. She shook her head and mouthed, “ They don’t know ,” nodding toward the other room where she could sense her parents lurking.

“They will soon,” Arden countered.

“Just give me a few hours of peace.”

“That’s part of why I’m here, though.”

Stella’s stomach bottomed out. “You’re not here to check on me? ”

Arden took the flowers from her, placed them on the table, and gestured for her to sit on the couch. He sat beside her and took her hands in his.

“I’m here because I was worried sick all day yesterday and all night. I didn’t sleep at all from worrying for you, which was only made worse when we were woken at that ungodly hour and told that you had seen the body and the message. Stella, I—” His voice broke, and he placed her hand over his heart. “I’m here because of the inquiry but also because when I saw you bleeding in that pit, fighting that beast, I could not breathe. I almost passed out. Issa pinched me at one point because I’d been holding my breath and my face had gone purple. I hate that you’re in the Gauntlet Games and I hate that it’s my fault, and now, with the Sons, you have even more of a target on your back.”

Stella was so moved by his sincerity. He’d never been so vulnerable with her. Charming, yes. Funny, absolutely. But it was rare that he let her see him so serious.

“Does she know about us? Your sister?” Stella asked.

Arden shrugged a shoulder. “I think she suspects. And I’ve been feeling so guilty about you entering to save me from this wedding.”

“It’s not your fault—any of this. You didn’t know they were going to betroth you to that princess,” Stella assured him. “You thought we would announce our relationship and your parents would be pleased, just like I did. It’s just a bump in the road—this contest and the wretched Sons of Endros making a mess of everything.”

“I felt so confident in you before the Games started, but seeing you hurt terrifies me,” Arden said breathlessly. “With Endros as the gamemaker and you and Teddy in the Games and the Sons of Endros literally murdering contestants, I—” His voice cracked. “I’m not worth this kind of risk. I wish I could get you out of this.”

Stella frowned at him. It was sweet that he wanted to protect her, but she needed to win the favor so that she and Arden could have an undeniable gods-blessed union. She hated to stir things up when he was trying to protect her, but she had to say it.

“I don’t want out. ”

Arden waved a hand. “I know. But I don’t know if I can watch another challenge like that, Stella. I’ve done everything so that you can at least know your options. I asked my parents if there was a way and I went through some old books in the library?—”

“You went through books?” Stella asked, stunned.

Arden winced. “I had the royal scholars pull the original Games records, and I spoke to my father since he was there with your parents at the creation. But no luck. The only way out is through.”

“So why are you here?” she asked.

“There’s an inquiry today at the castle. I thought it would be a good time to formally announce our courtship. There will be lots of important people around, and that way, if my parents bring up the betrothal again, they will already know about you and I won’t have to keep you a secret. It’s what I should have done from the beginning. I just didn’t want this beautiful private thing between us to be ruined by all these outside opinions.”

Stella knew what he meant. He was the prince of Olney, and she would have been under tremendous scrutiny. While it had its downsides, she had liked the intimacy of having something private, away from the world.

She was so relieved and overwhelmed to finally have what she wanted that it took a moment for the practicality of it to hit her. “Arden, we can’t do that.”

He smiled like he thought she was joking. “What? Why?”

Stella lowered her voice to a whisper. “Because it will put even more of a target on my back than I already have. I have an uncontrollable heart bond with Teddy that almost took me out in the first challenge, and my mother killed Endros back when he was a god living in this realm. If the Sons of Endros realize they can hurt or threaten me to get a seat on your father’s royal advisory committee, it will only make things worse. Rett Roachelle and his friends already know about us somehow. I denied it, but I don’t need it to spread farther than that. The Sons of Endros were able to kill a man right outside the castle walls. They are bold and looking for any advantage. I know this is what I’ve been asking you to do for months, but this could not be worse timing.”

She watched the realization settle over him. He slumped into his seat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

“No, you didn’t.” Stella felt like she was seeing him in a new light. Perhaps it was spending time with someone as uptight and anxious as Teddy, but Arden seemed almost naively carefree. How could he not have considered how his decision would affect her? Especially after last night’s violence.

She didn’t want to push, but his careless suggestion made her angry.

“What about Grace?” Stella asked.

Arden stilled and met her eyes. “I’ve been waiting to speak to you about that.”

“Until after you spoke to her?” Stella asked, her tone a little sharper than she meant it to be.

He looked down at his hands and she felt suddenly and violently furious at him.

“You didn’t come to see me when I was terribly wounded or for hours afterwards and I would have let all of that go, but do you know who did come to see me? Grace. The person you had already made time to invite to dinner.”

Arden squeezed her hands. “When you put it like that, it sounds bad, but all the families were together after the match and we got to talking. I was supposed to be speaking with Eleria, but she was not feeling well after all the bloodshed and retired to her rooms. That left me with Grace and her sisters and my siblings, but I couldn’t leave and see you because Eleria’s parents were still there and expecting our attention.”

“And you and Grace just hit it off.”

He pressed a hand over his heart. “Don’t say it like that, Stella. Gods know I love your temper, but this connection is confusing. Obviously, I’ve always thought Grace was a beautiful woman. I would have to be blind to not recognize that, but you know how it is. We have always just been friends because I was pining over you and she was pining over Teddy. I’d never really considered it until she was so at ease talking with me and Eleria’s parents and I have just never experienced that feeling of having a partner. And you know Grace—she’s so very comfortable in those situations.”

It was so unfair of him to compliment Grace for doing something Stella had never been in the position to do. It was unfair to compare her to Grace at all. No woman should be compared to someone who had a perfectly symmetrical face, stunning hourglass figure, and supernatural poise. Stella thought she’d done a decent job of holding her own with him at court parties and when their families were together, but this was clearly different.

“I realize the ridiculousness of asking you for your permission at a time like this—when you’re risking so much for me,” Arden said. “It’s all come as such a surprise. I know that you and I are meant to be. But there’s a part of me that worries if I don’t at least spend some time with Grace, I’ll always wonder if it was just your Aunt Des messing with you, or if I somehow missed something with a woman I’ve known my whole life.”

That was supposed to be her connection. Stella wanted to scream at him, or Desiree, or just in general. But she knew he was right. Her mother had been in love with someone else before she ended up with her father. They had always said that their early struggles made the joy of the rest of their lives that much sweeter. If they went through a war and so many trials, Stella could weather a courtship that would probably amount to nothing.

She dropped her head back and blew out a breath. How could she really be mad at him when she had the same fear? How could she hold him accountable for her own lack of faith? Great love stories required immense trust.

“I worried the same thing,” she said softly. “I trust you.”

Arden straightened, looking immensely relieved. “But this is why I also wanted to announce that we are courting. Because you are important to me and I want everyone to know. This is just a bump in the road and I’m relieved that you understand this is just something I have to see through so I can know for sure.” He looked down at his hands. “Have you spent time with Teddy?”

Stella laughed and the tension unclenched in her chest. “Only when he was being a drunken ass last night.”

Arden grinned. “You’re kidding. I’ve never seen him drink more than a whiskey an evening.”

“Well, I suspect he was having the same conversation we’re having and is less adaptable to changes in his plans. You know how he is. We’re going back to the temple to ask Desiree to break the bond. It’s too dangerous during the Games. So at least you won’t have to worry about my commitment to you.”

Arden looked down at his hands. “That’s wise. Do you think she’ll do it?”

Stella shrugged. She wanted to ask him if he’d considered doing the same, but she was afraid of his answer. It wasn’t as if it was the same kind of impediment to Arden and Grace going about their normal lives as it was to Stella and Teddy, who were competing in a deadly contest.

Arden studied her for a moment. “How are you, really? I know you heal quickly, but you had me pretty worried.”

Stella thought of the star-shaped scar on her side. She wasn’t ready to tell him that she’d been permanently marked by the contest yet, but he must have read it in her face.

Arden’s eyes narrowed. “Are you still hurt?” When she said nothing, he stood and went to the window. He stared out at the garden, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“Just a flesh wound. A scar is not a big deal.”

“Of course it is. How would you feel if someone scarred me?”

She’d been so worried he would miss the freckle constellation he used to write his name on her side that she hadn’t thought of the guilt she’d feel if the roles were reversed and he was so badly wounded that he’d forever bear the scar.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t tell you how to feel, and I keep saying the wrong thing,” Arden said. He glanced out the window. One of his guards was in the garden, beckoning for him to go. “Damn. I’ve already been gone too long.” He pulled Stella into a hug.

It wasn’t appropriate, but it felt so good to be held and her parents wouldn’t object after all she’d been through yesterday. She tucked her face into his neck and breathed in the familiar salt air and fresh laundry scent of him.

“I love you,” he whispered. “You’re going to win the Games and get your favor. I just know it.” He pulled back and met her gaze. “I know you said we can’t announce our courtship until after the Games, but since you need to come in to answer some questions about last night for the guards, do you want to walk back to the inquiry with me?”

Stella wanted to, but she shook her head. “Probably better that I don’t.”

He nodded and stepped away. “Stay safe, Stella.” He turned to leave.

“Arden?” she called when he reached the doorway. “What’s my favorite flower?”

He turned, his gaze flitting from the roses on the couch to her. “Do you not like the roses?”

Stella paused, torn between telling the truth and doing what she had always done—telling him what would put him at ease.

He walked back to meet her, and she caved.

“Of course. I love roses.”

He frowned like he’d caught her in the lie, but when she said nothing, he bent to kiss her hand. “I’m lucky to have you. You always go with the flow.”

Stella used to like when he said that. She’d taken the ease between them and the way their lives just fit together as a good thing. Before, it had made her feel frictionless and easy-going, but now it made her feel a touch foolish.

She watched Arden and his guards leave through the garden gate and waited a full ten minutes before she snuck out the same way and crossed town to Olney Castle. It was best not to tell her parents. The last thing she needed was them marching into the castle alongside her and riling everyone up. She would just pop in, be interrogated, and be back home before they were the wiser.

Her father’s stress level could be measured by how many flowers he carved in a week and he’d already given her two daisies since the binding ceremony. She didn’t need to add any more stress to his plate.

The guards at the castle gates let her in and, as soon as she stepped into the courtyard, she was escorted inside and into a sitting room on the ground floor. It faced the queen’s gardens and Stella stood there watching the morning light shine brilliantly off the vibrant summer florals.

A guard entered the room a moment later, dressed in green Teripin regalia. He handed her a cup of tea. If it was being given to her by anyone other than a gruff-looking hunter, Stella might not have hesitated.

She held the steaming cup to her nose and sniffed.

“You have to drink it before the inquiry starts, my lady,” the man said when she didn’t immediately sip it. He nodded to it. “It’s not going to harm you, but I have instructions to stay until you finish it.”

“Before the inquiry?” She sniffed the tea again and the faint spicy aroma clicked a memory into place.

Truth tea. They were giving all the competitors truth tea so they would be more forthcoming for the interrogation. It didn’t so much force the truth as it loosened the lips. Stella took a bracing breath and knocked the tea back in one gulp.

The guard took the empty cup and left the room.

Stella stared out at the garden, trying not to panic. She immediately drew up all her memories of truth tea: how to brew it, the herbs used to make it more potent, and how to mask its scent. But she had no memory of any way to prevent or lessen its effects.

Panic rose in her chest as she pulled up memory after memory, searching for any way out of this mess. But the more useless experiences she called to mind, the more anxious she felt.

The door creaked open, and she turned, only to come face to face not with a hunter captain or one of the king’s advisors, but with the god of war himself.

Endros crossed the space in a few short strides. He reached for her hand with a knife-sharp smile on his face. “Welcome, little goddess. We’ve not formally met, but I knew your mother. I think it’s time you and I speak.”