Page 24 of Of Stars and Lightning (Sun and Shadows #1)

Eighteen

CHAINED TO DESTINY

THE DINNER WAS as uncomfortable as she expected. Besides casual conversations, everyone spent most of the time sizing the others up. When Alix said it was better for her to see the political pains firsthand while on the road, he meant it.

The Ladies of Niome chatted with Nina and Sawyer effortlessly, and Sol enjoyed listening to the adventures of their younger selves.

The Southern nobles attended Rimemere Wielder Academy during the final year of their studies, to be taught with ancient texts only the castle libraries held.

Rimemere was the only place in the South with temples, so they used that final year of studies to dedicate themselves to their gods.

According to Sawyer, regular offerings to the gods were generally better, but as long as it was done at least once a year, the Wielder would remain with their magic.

“And if no offerings are made?” Sol asked in between bites of an overly salted roast. “What happens then?”

“The Wielder dies,” Poppy said. “Happens quite often, actually. Especially now that Rimemere has a wall, and we cannot come pay our respects without getting brands and verbal threats from the kingsmen—”

“Poppy!” Sonia whispered, lightly nudging her wife. “Quiet.”

“It’s true, is it not?” Poppy crossed her arms. “The wall was uncalled for.”

Sol flicked her gaze to Semmena, who watched her over the rim of his chalice.

Shivers skidded through her. “It’s meant to protect from these Jinn?”

The man directly beside Alix, with sun kissed skin and a long ebony braid, laughed. “I suppose that is what the official reports say.”

“Those demons get through anything,” the Romalian woman—Kenia, Sol had learned—chimed. “They dwell in water. And there is no wall along the coast.”

Memories from the Yavenharrow disaster flashed through her mind. It had truly been incredible the creatures hadn’t found her before the Wielders did.

Sonia seemed to have the same thought, as she leaned on a hand casually, her lashes grazing her cheeks. “Do tell us, Sol. How was life in Graniela? Did you truly live as a commoner?”

It wasn’t lost on Sol how all conversations halted. Of course everyone was interested in that response.

“I—”

Don't say something stupid. What would your mother say? What would Lora say?

She took a steadying breath. “I can’t really say it was a ‘commoner’s’ life, as I had nothing grander to compare it to. But, I loved the simplicity and the town.”

“Did you never feel the pull to us?” Poppy asked. “Didn’t Warren call to you?”

“My dear cousin has yet to do her Awakening, as you all know,” Sawyer added, drinking directly from a pitcher of wine. “A reason why she didn’t need our dear, dear temples.”

They all blanched simultaneously, similar versions of horror on their faces. Semmena’s people, though, laughed.

“So, it is true?” A woman with a scaled dress that might as well have been her skin, cackled, shaking the plate before her with a slap of her hand on the table. “The Yarrow Heir is human?” She let out another deafening caw.

“Unsettled, technically, since she is past fifteen summers,” another person said. “What a disgrace.”

Semmena watched with amusement as Sol tried to suppress an embarrassed flush.

They didn't know.

“We thought this knowledge was distributed,” Nina said, looking to the end of the table.

Samara shrugged. “Oops.”

Hushed murmurs erupted, the nobles leaning to whisper to each other, casting glances her way.

Penny’s words about the Unsettled echoed in her memory from their first meeting.

They say we are bad luck to have around.

“I think it’s a strength, actually.” Sol’s voice was stern. “I’ve lived my whole life without magic as a crutch.”

Sawyer smiled, a small laugh echoing from within her raised pitcher.

Sol continued, ignoring the onlookers, and donning that casual mask, giving her uncle a sweet smile. “I believe my set of expertise will only aid us once I do Awaken.”

“And what are those, Princess?” Gina set her sharp chin on her hand. “Do tell us.”

“Not placing worth on someone’s name or power and seeing them for who they are instead.” Sol stood. “Seeing people not as assets and additions, but as human beings with lives and rights. Supporting those who aren't heard. Using knowledge to heal and not harm.”

Even her Court watched her with tentative surprise at the blatant display of courage, one Sol had to admit was likely fueled by adrenaline. Poppy’s face gleamed with pride, as did her wife’s.

But Sol didn’t stay to see any other reactions. She set down her chalice and stepped away from the table. “I also have a pretty good aim with daggers.” She bowed. “Lovely feast, Majesty.”

As she left the feast without waiting for a dismissal, Gaven held the doors open then offered to walk with her to a mezzanine overlooking the throne room before the next part of the celebration, which was the dance.

Her court trailed behind her silently the whole way, and Sol wanted to run back to them and apologize for acting like an offended child.

After arriving at the ballroom, musicians playing lazily, she expressed the sentiment to Nina, who only gave her a small hug. “Don’t be sorry, that was amazing.”

Sawyer, albeit a tad tipsy, nodded in agreement and said, “Screw the hierarchy,” before stumbling away to a table of what Sol had to guess were Melisandre soldiers. Which led way to the next concern.

Not only was Cas absent, but so was his territory, Eswin. Sol noted the table with their label looming in a corner, empty and bleak compared to the energy of the others.

Nina cursed at the realization, sending Alix into the bustling crowd to see if he could subtlety gather intel on why they were the only territory who declined the offer to visit Rimemere.

As Nina took her arm and dismissed Gaven with a wave, she explained Eswin was originally ruled by the Morozov clan, Cas’s maternal line and notorious Shadow Guiders.

They were a relatively secretive family, but after Draven had left Lady Alyana, Cas’s mother, for Irene, the territory only secluded itself further into isolation.

Sol rubbed at the spot between her thumb and index finger, a holistic point of pressure Lora had taught her could relieve unwanted tension.

For the first time, it didn’t work.

She and Nina leaned on the mezzanine railing, watching the couples sway to the bright strings and deep notes of some wooden instrument Sol had never seen. The nobles had apparently been allowed to bring guests, one per house. The guests now mingled, tripling the size of the original crowd.

Like the ballroom, the throne room was painted with silvers and blues, colors she came to realize were the Mornett palette—Samara and Gina’s maternal bloodline.

Gina was tasked with the castle decor, and she obviously tried to erase any trace of Irene whenever she could.

Melisandre colors were scattered in between, mostly in the quieter, dimmer rooms, where they could dwell in the shadows and not gain much attention.

Most bizarre of all though, and a new addition to the decor according to Nina, was a large, seemingly useless cube settled on the far wall next to the golden double doors.

It was an eyesore amidst the rest of the elegance.

It seemed like a crate of sorts, with a crimson curtain draped over it to directly conceal whatever lay beneath it.

Alix mentioned Semmena enjoyed bringing exotic animals from Polimende as entertainment. The thought of a lion—or some other beast—in the room with them made Sol’s headache insufferable.

She smiled softly through the pain as the Dianese guest, a boy with large, puffy brown sleeves and sleeked hair, spoke with Penny in a corner, both exchanging pieces of food for the other to try.

Sol traced the wallpaper with her eyes. She supposed she should be downstairs, mingling with the nobility. But she was tired. Tired of pretending like she was put together. Of pretending she no longer resented her mother for making the transition into this world so much harder.

My dear girl, I am so sorry.

She grabbed her necklace, zipping it back and forth on its chain as Nina sighed.

“Awkward, huh?” The Earth Caller caressed a lonely plant beside her. “I didn't think it would be this bad.”

Sol shrugged. “I didn't expect a welcome party.”

They watched the people below in silence. Poppy and Sonia laughed together in an intimate dance, making Sol sigh.

She had never truly craved that sort of relationship with anyone, nothing apart from the occasional distraction. But seeing them, the attention they regarded each other with, the way they seemed to be suspended in their own world—it pulled at her chest.

“They’re a rarity,” Nina said, following her line of vision. “The last gods’-called union still alive.”

Sol tore her gaze from them. “Gods’-called?”

“Poppy’s god, Aquarene, called her and Sonia’s union.

” Nina smiled down at them, also seemingly enchanted.

“Sonia was a Fire Wielder, but resigned her fire and took some of Poppy’s magic during their union.

As a reward for accepting the bond, Aquarene granted Sonia Duality, letting her keep Emberdon’s flames while also able to Water Dance. ”

Sol looked back at them. “That’s possible?”

“The gods are odd. They occasionally call two individuals together, whether for power or strength.” She shrugged. “We will never know the gods’ motives.”

The couple laughed in unison, Sonia grabbing a mug of wine from a servant. She caught Sol’s gaze and gave her a polite nod, followed by Poppy peering back to do the same.

Sol returned the gesture. “So, they're like soulmates?”

Nina laughed. “I guess that's comparable. But gods’ bonds can be accepted or rejected. Though rejecting it is apparently painful—physically and emotionally. The bonds are so rare, not much is truly known of them except that accepting them grants the couple great, unique power. And well, unmatched love, it seems.”