Page 114 of Fate of the Sun King

“There’s something else I need to tell you,” I say to him. “I wanted to talk to you as soon as we got back, but then all this happened.”

“What is it?” Willow asks, a line of concern furrowing between her eyes.

I don’t think Tristan will mind if I share this with Willow too, and I can’t keep this information to myself any longer.

“You remember how I told you I held the Woodlands Staff?” I ask her, and she nods. I take her hand, and then I look at Tristan. “It… hinted at something about you.”

“What?” he asks and tries to sit up but winces. I lay a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t move. You’re probably better off lying down for this anyway.”

“You’re worrying me,” Willow says, biting the corner of her lip.

“It’s not bad. At least, I don’t think it is.”

“Lor, just spit it out,” Tristan demands.

“Okay, so I think it told me you’re the Woodlands Primary.” The words fall out in a rush, and I wince before rearranging my face into a strained smile as Tristan’s expression blanks.

“What?” he asks.

“I mean, it didn’t say that explicitly, but it commented about how I’d brought the Primary with me and that it felt you when we were gone. Not us. You.”

“That’s why you asked Cedar who it is?”

“Yes. It all makes sense, doesn’t it? You have Woodlands magic that neither of us does, and our grandfather was their king. And you felt the Staff, didn’t you?”

He rubs his chest, clearly recalling that enigmatic tug.

“But I have Heart magic, too,” Tristan says.

“Maybe some of it ‘leaked’ into you. From what I’ve read, our grandmother was really powerful.”

“What am I supposed to do with this information?” he asks, a thread of panic bleeding into his voice.

I open my mouth and then rub a hand down his arm, hoping to offer some comfort. “Nothing right now. I think. But eventually, Cedar will find out.”

“But this was supposed to be you,” he whispers. “Not me. I was fine with that. I was comfortable with that.”

“I know,” I say. “You don’t have to do anything right now. Get used to the idea. When you’re ready, you can go back to see him and discuss it.”

“Do you think he’ll be happy about this?” Tristan asks. “What if he hates the idea?”

“I don’t think he gets any say in the matter.”

He blows out a long breath. “Great.” He shares a look between me and Willow. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course,” Willow says, grabbing his hand and squeezing it.

“Tris, absolutely,” I say. “Whatever you need.”

“Did you tell Nadir?” Tristan asks, his tone sharp.

“No. I wanted to talk to you first.”

His shoulders relax. “Thank you for that.” He presses his mouth together, conflict struggling in his gaze. “You can tell him. If he’s really what you say, then you need to be open with him about stuff.”

“Thanks, Tris.”