Page 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

S olarius lounged on the sofa across from Ariesian’s desk.

He stretched his legs out before him, crossing one ankle over the other, with his arm strewn across the stack of plush pillows.

Faerie fire glowed in the hearth, and though the air was warm, the atmosphere was cold.

He’d remained seated across from his brother for a solid twenty minutes, and not a single word had been said.

Ariesian was in a foul mood.

He had the heels of his boots propped up on his desk, and the scowl he wore at breakfast had only deepened.

In one hand, he cradled the Celestinian Wayfinder, the astrolabe given to him by their father.

It spun and whirred, a sphere of glittery stars and the whole of the night sky.

Finally, Solarius spoke.

“He’ll come around, Aries.”

Then again, Nyxian was notorious for having a stubborn streak.

Ariesian spared him a glance but said nothing.

He focused on the astrolabe, on the bursts of stardust sparking inside of it, on its ethereal structure.

His brows drew together in a severe line, and he set the astrolabe on its stand where it floated and twirled before leaning back in his chair.

It groaned beneath his weight, the wood creaking lightly, and Ariesian folded his arms across his chest.

Moments bled into minutes, until Ariesian loosed a heavy, burdensome sigh.

“I never wanted this, you know?” It was almost like he was talking to himself.

His voice was low and hushed against the stillness and the crackling of flames.

“I never wanted to be Lord Starstorm or High Councilor to Queen Elowyn, or any other ridiculously excessive title. But I was given no choice.”

“You’re the firstborn, you’re heir to House Celestine.” Solarius drummed his fingers along the back of the sofa.

“It’s been your duty since your birth.”

Ariesian’s cool glare cut to him.

“Of that, I am well aware. But it would have been nice to have been given an option, to choose my own fate. My own destiny.”

“Ah,” Solarius mused, running his thumb along his jaw as he considered his elder brother.

“Much like how you gave those same choices to Novalise, Sarelle, myself, and now Nyxian?”

Ariesian visibly stiffened.

His muscles bunched with tension, the vein along his temple pulsed.

“Before Lord Firebane came to his senses, you signed a contract to marry Novalise off to the Shadowblade Assassin, without even telling her, I might add. You convinced Sarelle to entangle herself with Prince Aspen, whom you know is a notorious prick. And then you bound me to Narissa.” Solarius drew his knees up and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his thighs as he steepled his fingers together.

“Where were our options, Aries? Our choices?”

Ariesian bristled and his face became a mask of indifference.

“I did what was necessary for the security and longevity of our house.”

“Did you?” Solarius prodded, knowing he was getting dangerously close to pushing his brother over the edge of his calm exterior.

“Or did you do it just to get it over with? Like our names are on your lengthy list of duties and we’re only another check in the box?”

“The safety, happiness, and wellbeing of you and your brothers and sisters has always been a priority for me. You know that.” Ariesian scrubbed a hand over his face, and for a moment, his mask fell.

In a split second, all his emotions—fear, exhaustion, dread, worry—were laid bare.

Then he blinked, and the stoic Lord Starstorm returned.

“But it is also my responsibility to ensure House Celestine’s bloodline.”

Solarius stared at him.

“Our.”

Ariesian arched a brow.

“Pardon?”

“You said your brothers and sisters. They’re ours. Our siblings. Our family.”

Solarius edged back, and it was as though a new light had been cast upon his brother.

One that highlighted half of Ariesian as the strong, steadfast Lord of House Celestine.

Confident.

Fearless.

Unwavering.

And then there was the part of him lost to the shadows.

The one burdened beneath an insurmountable weight of responsibility, the one who had forgotten what it was like to smile.

To laugh.

To live.

A bout of leaden silence stretched between them, and they stared at one another.

“It is not your fate to replace our father.” Solarius kept his voice calm and even.

“You must make your own way, Ariesian. We are not your charges.”

“What would you have me do?” Ariesian raked his hands through his silver hair, exasperated.

“Leave your future in the hands of our mother ?”

The mention of Trysta struck a chord in Solarius’s chest, one that radiated with quiet anger.

“Speaking of,” Solarius began, forcing himself to unclench his jaw.

“Did you or Drake ever figure out what it was she requested from Calfair in exchange for the dragon root?”

“Not yet.” Ariesian’s demeanor shifted from blatant displeasure to guarded tension.

“Why?”

“Because I know why Calfair wanted the dragon root.” Solarius launched into a detailed explanation, reiterating everything he and Narissa discovered.

How she was drugged, taken advantage of, and ultimately used and misled.

By the time he finished telling the story, Ariesian looked ready to implode.

His face turned crimson and his fists were clenched so tightly around the arms of his chair that Solarius worried he might rip them straight off the hinges.

“That fucking bastard,” Ariesian barked.

“Did you break his face?”

“Not badly enough.”

“We need to figure out what Trysta wants, what she’s so desperate to have that she would be willing to stoop to such low levels.” Ariesian shoved back from his desk and the astrolabe tilted and spun at a dizzying speed.

“Lord Calfair will pay for his crimes against Narissa.”

Solarius leapt off the sofa after him.

“Where are you going?”

“To speak with Queen Elowyn.”

Shit.

Why hadn’t he thought of that?

The answer came quickly enough.

Because he’d rather pummel Calfair until he was nothing more than a bloody, pulpy mess than allow him to spend the rest of his days in a dungeon.

As for Solarius’s mother, whatever secret she was keeping must be detrimental.

For years he’d been suspicious of her behavior, of the way she toyed with the lives of those around her, including her own children, as though they were the pieces of a game she wanted to win.

She’d always been haughty, lacking compassion and affection, always caring more about herself.

Her image.

Her reputation.

Her rank among Aeremere’s five noble houses.

Sure, Narissa might be alone now, but her parents loved her.

Solarius, on the other hand, was never wanted.

He wasn’t the firstborn, so he eclipsed his mother’s attention.

He wasn’t a female, so she held no qualms about his personal life and refused to take an interest in any of his affairs.

He was simply cast aside.

Ignored.

Forgotten.

Trysta never loved him.

She never loved any of them.