Page 49 of Of Stars and Lightning (Sun and Shadows #1)

“I often visited the coast,” he said, blowing a puff of dust off a particularly sad-looking journal. “With my mother and sister.”

“With Samara?” she asked, grabbing another book.

A Body to Kill For, a memoir.

Huh?

Cas looked past her, as if in a daze for a moment. “No, my other sister, Maya.”

Sol turned from the shelves to face him.

She remembered Gaven mentioning another sister.

How she and his mother had been condemned to the dungeons after Draven’s execution, an order from Irene herself.

And although it had nothing to do with her, a pang of guilt pulled at her chest. “I’m so sorry, Cas. I never really got to tell you that.”

For a moment, emotion swirled in his features. But the cool mask he usually wore hardened a second later. “It’s in the past.”

Sol decided to drop the subject, walking to a lone table to sit and inspect her findings.

Opening the first book, she was immediately greeted by an intensely graphic love scene. She scanned the pages, but when a “generously crafted member” neared a “velvety soft and moist entrance,” she slammed it shut.

“What kind of books are in here?” She pushed the book away with a finger, feeling her face heat.

Cas pulled it toward him. “Books from all over the world, I think.”

He let the book fall open, dust and dirt flying at his face. Coughing, he narrowed his eyes at whatever was on the pages, then lifted a brow at her. “Is this what the great Crown Princess of Rimemere is into?”

She cleared her throat and snatched it back. “Maybe.” They spent a good hour roaming the place, Sol finally finding her preferred type of novels somewhere along the far-right bookshelves. She stayed away from history or anything related to the Wielders this time. She wanted distractions.

Finally, as the moon beyond the open window loomed at its peak, they decided the walk had served its purpose of getting Sol out and agreed to call it a night.

They gathered their findings and made their way back the way they came when a series of figures in her peripheral made her freeze.

The first time Sol had been here, she had spent it in the center of the room with the Ketar brothers and Zeri.

Still, the fact she had managed to miss what looked back at her was odd.

At the end of the row of shelves, was a tapestry.

Enormous enough to take up the entire wall.

It depicted seven individuals. On the right, a man and a woman, both with black hair and sapphire eyes, almost twins, were it not for the man’s darker skin.

Between them was a youthful-looking woman, her auburn hair tied back and face lit with a resplendent smile.

Next to her was a smaller woman with chestnut hair and golden eyes.

Immediately, Sol ran forward.

To the left was a massive, ebony-skinned man, holding a series of scrolls and wearing robes of deep ivory.

In front of him was a woman with violet eyes and hair tightened in a tense knot.

Then, stark in the center, sitting on an all-too-familiar stone and gold throne, was her mother.

Hair dark as night, eyes a piercing cobalt.

She looked younger, angrier than Sol remembered.

Regardless, Sol felt tears burn her eyes as she looked from her mother to Lora, then to who had to be her Uncle Axel and Aunt Mel.

Gina, the woman who now belonged to King Semmena, and to the woman who had to be Clarisse, Nina’s mother.

Finally, she admired the man behind them, who would be Alix’s father.

Her mother’s Court before Lora had arrived to it.

Sol didn’t have many portraits of Irene. Her mother often painted Sol or Lora, or other strangers Sol didn’t ask about, but self-portraits were scarce. She fought the urge to touch it.

“I’ll never look like this,” Sol whispered. “I’ll never be able to fill this.” Her birthmark pulsed slightly, either soothing her or in agreement.

Cas was beside her but watched a speck on the ground instead of the beauty before them. He shifted on his feet, his boot tracing the delicate patterns on the rug.

She looked at him. “What is it?”

His expression was distant, so much further away than she had recently seen it.

Sol turned back to the tapestry.

Lora. Axel, Mel, Clarisse, and Gina. Alix’s father, whose name she couldn’t quite recall.

She stiffened. There was one person missing.

“He was removed from all Royal portraits after it happened,” he said, not looking up from the ground.

Sol felt conflicted. She felt bad his family had been subjected to such dishonor, and that it followed him, despite it not being his fault.

But at the same time, there wasn’t much she could say or do to make it better.

He had shown her he disliked talking about it, avoided the topic all together when she brought it up.

She didn't think this time would be any different. “I’m sure what happened was a last resort,” Sol said at last.

The room darkened ever so slightly.

“The consequence for demanding to know who his betrothed had sired a child with during his absence shouldn’t have been execution.” Cas's closed fists shook slightly, the atmosphere charging with tension.

“Threatening a Queen is treason,” she countered. “Surely there was another way for your father to handle it.”

When they had first arrived at the Castle, Cas had given Gaven the deadliest look outside that meeting room where they had verified her lineage.

Sol never forgot it, and as he slowly turned toward her and gave her that same look, she knew whatever trust they had created was cleaved in that very instant.

She struggled not to falter at the rawness of his gaze while he turned to fully face her, his fingertips sparking violet and his Shadows seeping from his shoulders.

“Did they tell you the full story, Princess?” He leaned toward her, his eyes welding her to her spot, beacons in the dimming light. “Or did whoever told you leave out the grueling details, as everyone always seems to?”

Sol’s chest heated, her stomach churning with caution. “I don’t see how any details would excuse your father for wanting my mother dead,” she said tightly.

He scoffed. “Let’s see.”

The firelights went dark. One by one, the orb lights around them flickered until the only light was the sparkle of violet at Cas's fingertips.

She had never seen him this way. Although severe with others, Cas always remained rather gentle with her, even when she wasn't. The stark difference made Sol step back, truly for the first time scared of him.

“Your mother was to wed my father,” he said, his tone as cold as ever.

“He was declared winner of her Coronation Vows. He discarded my mother, left her for yours, in the name of power.” His Shadows heated around them.

“A Xanthos and a Yarrow, two of the greatest Warden lines. The power their children would hold drove the South feral with ambition. To remain on their good side, to be appointed to their Heir’s court. ”

Sol’s back pressed against the shelves, the furniture slightly swaying with the impact. Cas grabbed her wrist.

If to keep her from falling or from running, she didn’t know.

“My father was in love with Irene. Blind with it,” he continued.

“Left me and my sister to rot in Eswin. Got Gina pregnant in hopes of moving on with her, but could never quite shake off your mother. Left Eswin to my mother’s reign, to a woman without a single clue how to lead. ” Her birthmark burned.

Still, she held his gaze.

Still, he held her firmly to her spot.

“Your mother never cared. Never accepted his proclamations, his unrivaled devotion. She said she’d marry him for duty, nothing more.” His breath was labored, seeming at the brink of whatever restraint he managed. “Seems like you both have that fucked up sense of duty in common, huh?”

“If you wanted to insult my morals, Prince, there was no need for these theatrics,” she said, voice wavering. “You’ve told me plenty you disagree with me about.”

He gave her a cold smile. “See, you don’t get it, Sol. I don’t disagree with you. I simply don’t care about others as much as you claim to.”

Sol glared at him, betrayal oozing with an icy ache into her chest. After everything. After he sat with her to make sure she ate, after she told him her biggest secret... “You lie to yourself, Casimir.”

The Ward at his fingertips faltered, but he didn’t. “My father left Rimemere to the borders of Romalia, to fight in a war your family started. He came back and… Well, I assume you know that part of the story.”

Sol was never leaving her bed again. Screw this.

Screw Cas. Every time she felt closer to besting his self-loathing it plummeted back into her with the weight of falling ceilings, of tombstones, of a kingdom.

Trusting anyone other than Lora, Leo, and Mina was a mistake.

None of these people cared about her. Didn’t care about her mother, why would they—

“What I know they didn’t tell you, Sol, is that after my father was executed, I chose death.”

At the mention of her name, she met his eyes.

They weren’t angry. Despite the atmosphere hanging cold and daunting, despite the sparks of lightning around them and the shivering darkness, his face was calm.

Stoic. Detached. “When Irene made me choose between being bound to her or death, I chose death.”

“Cas—” she breathed, inching forward.

This time, he took a step back.

“And I think your mother knew I’d choose that.

” He tightened his grip on her arm as the memory consumed him, his Shadows becoming denser, almost obscuring him completely from view.

“Because after she ordered everyone out of the execution room, except her Court and me, she brought out my mother and sister. My six-year-old sister. Maya.”

Sol shivered.

No. She didn’t know the full story.

“She then gave me another option,” he continued, his eyes trailing her face, her tense shoulders. “Swear loyalty to her or she’d kill them too.”

Breathing became difficult. And as the sparks of the Ward shone and frayed, Sol wished he’d let her go, so she could fall to her knees and sob.

“I’m sure you can guess which one I chose,” he continued.

“Cas—” she repeated, almost begging for him to stop. She didn’t need to know this. She didn’t want to know this.

“So Irene threw them in the dungeons, to ensure I kept my allegiance and remained in Rimemere. Her Court was livid, upset she wouldn’t kill us all and be done with it. A few were on our side, though I don’t remember who at this point.” He softened his grip. “Not that it matters.”

Sol hated herself. She hadn’t known this, and cursed Gaven for not telling her the entire story.

Her chest ached for him, for what he had to choose at an age not much younger than his own niece was now.

Guilt pooled inside her at all the clueless mentions of his family.

She hadn’t known the full story and made comments about it anyway.

With that ache, shame gnawed. Shame for the things her family had subjected other people to.

It hadn’t just been her mother, either. Sol was learning this long line of injustices had been facilitated since the beginning of the kingdom, gone unchecked and unquestioned by the people meant to protect it.

“And now?” Sol’s voice was barely a whisper. As if anything louder would rupture the fragile bubble they both danced on. “Where are they now?”

Instantly, the Shadows dissipated from the room around them.

His features, however, were as fierce as ever.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “After your mother left, the nobility here didn’t care. I went to visit them one day, and they were gone.” He outstretched his tattooed arm, the leather around it groaning.

“So, tell me, Princess,” he said, running a thumb along her wrist, his grip now gentle. “Did those details change anything? Did that sound like a fair consequence for a man whose only sin was loving a woman too much?”

Sol’s mouth was dry as she tried to come up with something—anything—to defend her mother’s honor.

She came up utterly empty.

Cas gave her a sad, but bleak smile.

She could almost count his lashes, almost feel the silken waves of his hair against her skin as he turned away and began to walk to the library entrance.

“Cas, wait—”

“Tomorrow’s trial is water. Wear something light.”

Sol watched the spot he disappeared from for a long time before making her way to her room.

She was ready to throw herself on her bed as soon as she opened her door, maybe even cry herself to sleep out of pure frustration, when Penny swirled to face her from where she stood by a kettle of tea. “Princess—”

Sol threw her arms around the girl and sobbed. “Penny.”

Penny didn’t know why Sol cried, but the sweet, sweet girl just patted her back. “There, there.”

They sat on the floor for a while, crying and talking and hating everything together, until Sol finally regained a sense of logic and told Penny she wasn’t safe here.

But just as she opened the window, everything clicked. As if she had only needed to cry herself dry to see the obvious solution, one she had been toying with all along.

Sol had a plan to save the prospects.