Page 38 of Blackheart

“And then there was a second child born.”

My heart skipped a beat. I sat up. The king was telling me somethingno oneknew.

He did not allow me to interrupt again. “This one didn’t cry, and was so much smaller than the first, they wondered if the babe would even live.”

“Did it?”

He swallowed. “You did.”

Part 2

Chapter 12

The King’s Mark

“They call it a blessing, the King’s Mark. But to those who know of the Crown’s darker dealings, it is proof of the Lyons’ own trespass.”

—Lyonsblood Legends and More, by Kade Greer

My entire existence shattered.

Clarke carried on as if it were any other tale.

“If my father knew your mother was a Blackheart, he never let on. When you were born, eyes dark as night, poison seeped out of your tiny fingers.” He paused for a moment. “The handmaidens tried their best to soothe you. My father was petrified when the first one dropped dead.”

Clarke coughed, choking on his words and shaking his head. “I didn’t understand at the time. My father was so in love one moment, but the next he was yelling, ‘Save the boy. Get the Blackhearts out of my sight’. I stayed hidden while they forced your mother out of bed, begging to stay with both children. My father—ourfather’s order did not waver. You and your mother were sent into the streets.”

My hands twitched, torturous pain cutting through my soul and identity, but even more so, my heart, black as it may be.

“Is this some sick joke? To punish me for being a Blackheart? To make me sound mad when I go back to the Waywards?” The first tear rolled down my face. I hadn’t been upset enough to truly cry since my mother left.

To think of her, the woman who was kind when she did not have to be, and always brave when no one asked her to be, being thrown to the streets minutes after her labor…

I was going to vomit.

“You are not Elora Amona, and have never been. You are Lady Elorengail Steele, sister to King Clarke of Drakington, and twin to Lord Xavian Steele, Keeper of Castivian, and you will never return to the Waywards. I cannot protect you there anymore. The Sapphire attack proved that, and still they are not your greatest enemy.”

I shot to my feet, backing away. I had spent twenty-three winters not privy to my own name.

“Protect me? You knew who I was all these years, but still left me in a cage! You say you want to know what it's been like? We’re starving! Freezing! We have no medicine! No healers!”

“The council has not made it easy to protect the Dark Natured.”

“You are a spineless coward!” I spat. The king of all people, blaming the goddamn council for a decision he had made.

Clarke sat up, grimacing and hollow. “Perhaps I have been. Perhaps I should have done more. But you do not yet understand the pressure of the world's opinions on your shoulders. The council and my own wife called for the eradication of the Dark Natured, but I saw you as my people. I thought I could appease everyone without so much death. I was wrong. I’m sorry that I have not been a good brother to you.”

I clenched my fist, explosive rage building from my core.

“That’s all you have to say? That you’resorry?” Hot tears raced down my cheeks. He had been so kind, so easy to talk to. But twenty-three winters of hardship while he lived in luxury were not forgivable.

He coughed again, forcing out his words. “I have something to give you.”

“I want nothing from you.”

Riven cleared his throat. “Your Grace, there are reports of Sapphires.”

Clarke sighed, as if he already knew. “Elora, I’m sending you to Castivian.”