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Evelina

It was early in the morning when Evelina awoke. She blinked through her blurry vision and looked around. There was a brief moment when she thought she had fallen asleep after a night of restocking shelves in the infirmary—as she so often did before leaving for the border.

But then she remembered that she was the patient. Had been fussed over by Alaina and Lorene all night after Daimon walked her here.

Flashes of the day before—of killing rebels with her magic and watching villagers nearly die by their hands—crossed through her mind. She still couldn’t believe her Essence had protected so many.

“Eve?” a soft voice called, followed by the scraping of a chair against the floorboards. “How are you feeling?”

Her body ached from head to toe. It felt like a blanket made of heavy stones had been laid over her, making it difficult to move. She swallowed, her throat scratchy and raw. A familiar face leaned over her, framed by stray pieces of ashen hair.

“Gloriana?” she whispered. She tried to push herself up. “I thought you were still on the border.” Her arms buckled and she slipped back down, groaning as her muscles screamed in protest .

“You mustn’t get up yet,” Gloriana said quickly, bracing a hand beneath her shoulders. “Word came of what happened in Baile and Aster brought me back. I would see to it myself that you recovered when the news came.”

Evelina smiled weakly. “Thank you.”

Her eyes were too heavy, as if just trying to get up had exhausted her. She drifted off into sleep again. By the time she awoke, the sun had risen. She was feeling stronger—exhausted, but a little more clearheaded. She took a deep breath and slowly sat up. Her arms held her this time, but her head swam the moment she was upright. She swayed heavily back toward the cot, just catching herself.

“Evelina!” Maliena gasped and shuffled over to her. “I’ll go get Gloriana. She just left to rest for a little?—”

“No,” Evelina said breathlessly. “Let her sleep.”

Maliena steadied her and helped support her back as she positioned herself to sit on the edge of the cot. “But?—”

“I promise I’ll tell you if I think you need to go get her. Let her rest.”

Maliena hesitated, but nodded her head. “Annora just stepped out. She should be back soon.”

Evelina was thankful for a few moments of quiet. She wanted to soak it in while she could. So much had happened since yesterday. Her mother was dying, she almost died, and Daimon…

She could still see his face when she showed up in the throne room. His commander mask had fully dropped. It showed her more than just a glimpse of his emotions; it bared every raw inch of it.

It made her realize he had always been her shadow boy, through and through. Even now, as much as he wanted to hide it.

“Do you know why he left?” she asked suddenly. “You and Neve were like parents to him. I was too young to ask you at the time. ”

Maliena paused, her lips parting. She blinked a few times and said, “He never told me. You knew him better than most, if I remember correctly.”

Evelina’s brows drew together as she thought about it. “Not as well as I hoped, I suppose.”

Maliena nodded sympathetically, clasping her hands together. “When he was young, he always kept to himself. Until he met you, that is.” She smiled softly. “I confess to never quite knowing what was in his mind.”

“Did you know his parents? Or where he came from?” Daimon had never told her, an abyss he never seemed ready to discuss.

Maliena’s eyes grew distant. “His mother was troubled before she died, but she loved him very much.”

“Troubled?” Evelina echoed.

Maliena shook her head, as if clearing her mind of painful memories. “They were outcasts. And the day he was born, his mother paid dearly for it.”

Evelina winced. She knew Daimon had lost his mother young, but not so quickly—and so tragically.

“And his father?” she asked cautiously, feeling as if she were finally getting to the heart of things.

Maliena paused, her brows knitted together tightly. “He?—”

Annora strode into the room, breaking the tension. She carried a tray with a steaming bowl of broth and freshly baked bread. Her shoulders slumped in relief when she saw Evelina. “Good, you’re awake.”

Maliena patted Evelina’s knee and stood, switching places with Annora. Evelina watched her leave as she ate, still curious.

There were only so many reasons a fae would be outcasted. Crimes against the fae—killing, maiming, torture. Refusing to adopt the customs—or, worse, following human customs instead. But the first was rare and the second wasn’t worth the kind of tragedy that had struck Daimon’s life .

She had heard of a much more common tale, though—one that had culminated in this very war.

Dark god worshippers. The very fae who set the scene for Moros’s rebellion and facilitated corrupted Essence into the rebels’ hands.

If Daimon’s mother had been one, it would explain why her people had turned against her and her child. And if his father was still alive…he could be one of the very rebels Daimon fought.

Her heart lurched at the thought. No wonder he couldn’t look a Manor princess in the eye, not after everything the rebels had taken from her—and after everything she planned to give them back.

Perhaps he’d known they were on opposing sides all along: shadow and light. And she was only just now catching on.