39. Adrianna

39

ADRIANNA

T he door to my office clicks shut behind us with a thud, echoing the weight of the conversation that’s about to follow. Nothing has changed in here since we arrived at the castle. I haven’t tried to put my stamp on it, so it looks the same as it did when it was my father’s. Only now, the bold seat on the other side of the desk is mine.

I don’t want to make it feel like I’m grilling him though, so instead of heading toward the mahogany desk that sits in the center of the room, I shuffle to the left, taking a seat on the rich green sofa. My father follows suit, twisting his fingers together in his lap as he gets comfortable.

This feels weird.

The entire thing seems odd. So odd that I almost throw in the towel and forget about it, but before I can backtrack a single step, my father’s eyes land on mine with a sense of understanding burning so bright, it’s impossible for me to move an inch.

“Ask me anything, Addi. I will give you as much information as I can. I swear it. I want you to succeed, and if that means mining through memories I’ve tucked away for a long time, then so be it. It’s for the good of the kingdom, it’s what’s best for you, and who knows, it might even be a little bit beneficial for them to no longer be sealed away in here.” He taps his temple, a soft smile ghosting his lips as warmth floods my veins.

Here he is, once again, finding a light to shine on a situation that is otherwise cloaked in agony and tainted with trauma.

“Thank you,” I breathe, inhaling slowly as I compose myself.

Calm and collected. Calm and collected. Calm and collected.

Two words. Two strong words spoken by this man time and time again. If anyone deserves for me to collect myself and act this way, it’s him.

A soothing silence drapes over the room as we both take a moment to think, to consider the bigger picture, before I finally figure out that there’s no right place to begin with everything. It’s going to be jumbled and messy, but there’s so much potential for it to make a difference, it’ll be worth it.

“Did you ever have a good relationship with Clementine?”

It sounds silly to ask, but I can’t wrap my head around their strained relationship. And if I’m being honest, strained still seems far too polite a word in comparison to how it actually is between them. It doesn’t help that Nora is my world. I can’t fathom a tainted relationship with her. Ever.

“It’s hard to say. Just like you, I spent a lot of my childhood training to rule the kingdom. We would play Tic Tac Toe at the dinner table occasionally, and race around the meadow when our mother took us outside for a family picnic, but we would never seek each other out. Maybe I should have been the one to take the lead on that, like you always have with Nora, but I was foolish, and by the time my training was done every day, the last thing I wanted to do was spend time with my younger sister who wanted to boss me around as well.”

His words sink in, taking root in my heart. It makes sense. All of it. I remember spending so many nights at the farm internally frustrated with the training he put me through that day, only to wind up dancing to whatever tune Nora played. Most of the time it was fine, but on the days where it wasn’t, it took every last ounce of my strength to proceed. The desire to lock myself away or just tell her to shut up was strong, but not as strong as my love for her.

Always my love for her. The love my father helped instill from such a young age. Maybe this is why he did it. Maybe he wanted us to learn from his own mistakes. If so, it definitely worked.

“What age did it noticeably turn sour?” I ask shifting on the sofa to face him properly, with my back against the arm and my feet crossed in front of me.

“Twelve.”

“That young?” I gape in surprise as he hums, a sense of disappointment so immense it’s almost absurd it could fit into such a small sound.

“It could have been sooner, but the moment I really noticed was then. She was always good at throwing a tantrum, but they suddenly morphed into… more. Angrier. More malicious. Desperate. I avoided her at all costs from then on. My parents didn’t complain about it either. Her wrath was felt by all, but it didn’t become completely uncontrollable until her seventeenth birthday.”

I keep my lips glued shut as he takes a moment to think, to consider, while I store the small snippets of knowledge away.

“My father pulled the most beautiful tiara out of the royal vault, offered it to her on a pink cushion like the dramatic princess she was. They beamed at her, my mother and my father, excited for her response, but all it did was conjure even more rage from their beloved daughter. The staff member who carried it in was dead in seconds, the jewels clanging to the floor in disarray as we stared on in disbelief. My father finally hit his limit with her. Birthday be damned.”

“The next time I call Nora a drama queen, feel free to correct me,” I muse, hoping to keep him somewhat smiling as he re-lives the pain that has haunted him for so long.

“Noted,” he says with a soft smile before he clears his throat. “My parents didn’t make the executive decision to take her magic away for another year. In that time, she had hurt or killed another two dozen people, but when the decision was made, a bright light energy burst from her protectively, pushing everyone back.”

My heart skips a beat as I stare wide-eyed at him. “Bright light,” I repeat, my lips barely moving as he nods.

“The two of you are the only two fae I’ve ever met with that ability.”

My gut twists, hating the similarity between us, but I know that without my protective magic I wouldn’t have saved so many people already. The thought of any more unnecessary blood on my hands is daunting.

“How did you manage to do it?” I ask, and he shakes his head.

“I promise you, that fact truly doesn’t matter. It was horrible and treacherous, but necessary. Yet, even without her magic, she still managed to rain hell down upon anyone or anything that inconvenienced her or made her mad. That’s when the dark magic started. That’s when she had to be stopped. That’s when everything began leading to the kiss of death.”

I can feel the pain in my father’s words as his gaze dips.

“All of that for power?” I ask, still trying to understand Clementine’s motive, and my father shrugs.

“For power, which is insane because the day my father handed the crown down to me, the day all of my training had amounted to, I almost balked. I had this overwhelming sense of not wanting it, of not wanting to be thrust into such a position. One where mistakes would be made, life lessons would be tough, and the pain I felt would no longer be just my own. I didn’t think I could do it.”

My tongue sweeps over my dry lips as I try to swallow past the lump forming in my throat, but it’s impossible. His words hold weight. I felt them in the blur of everything happening. The moments leading up to my crowning had me second guessing everything, especially myself, just as he describes.

“Just before the ceremony was about to take place, my father took me to one side, patted me on the shoulder, and looked deep into my eyes. Despite the haze I felt I was walking in, he stood vibrant before me, and I’ll never forget what he said.” His eyes glaze over as he turns to me, not really seeing as memories seem to flood his vision. “He said, ‘This role wasn’t made for those who want it or those who need it. This role was made for those who know they can live without the power but accept it anyway. For those who see beyond themselves, who shine light in a room when there’s not even the glow of the moon to aid them. The role of a leader is for the one willing to sacrifice it all. Not for themselves, but for others.’”

“Those are some wise words,” I rasp, nervously playing with the sleeve of my t-shirt as my father smiles.

“Those words fit you even more than they ever fit me, Addi. You were born for this, even when it was stripped away. You are selfless and strong, caring and giving, fearful and feared. Many of those words can’t be said about Clementine. Not now, not ever. The differences between you will be her downfall, you just have to figure out the how part,” he offers, reaching for my hand, and I bask in his warmth the second his fingers lace with mine. “She may have wrath, she may be resilient, and she may have dark magic acting as her power, but she’s too selfish to prevail, Addi. You bring one thing to the table that she never will because it’s something she doesn’t see any strength in. Not even a little. You bring your people hope.”