Page 27 of Fate of the Sun King

“Amazing,” my brother agrees.

“Thank you. Both of you,” I say. Accessing my magic is still a struggle, but I don’t feel quite as useless and helpless as I always have.

“Let’s go home. I’m starving,” Tristan says, heading for his horse.

Nadir is watching me, and I tip my head, giving him a small smile. I want to say thank you for this moment. For today. For giving me the space I need. For things I have no name for yet. I probably don’t deserve his patience, but he’s offering it nonetheless.

“Let’s go,” he says softly. “I’m proud of you.”

It feels too hard to respond to that, so I just nod. And then we all hop back on our horses and head towards the walls of Aphelion.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Following a restless sleep, I head down to the kitchen the next morning. When Nadir, Tristan, and I arrived home last night, everyone had already gone to bed. So the three of us had a cold dinner of bread and cheese before we said our goodnights.

Laughter floats up the stairway, and I emerge to find Nerissa at the stove, tending to a frying pan, while Tristan leans against the counter with his arms crossed. He’s smiling broadly as he says something that causes Nerissa to laugh again, her hand landing on his biceps in what I’m sure is a very deliberate attempt to touch him.

A knot of emotion forms in my throat as I watch them. This is what I want for my siblings. To find someone who allows them to feel again. To love and lose themselves with. This is what I was fighting for during the Trials.

Tristan catches sight of me and straightens up from his position.

“Morning,” he says, looking down at his feet as he pulls up a stool around the large kitchen island and settles onto it. I’m sure he’s blushing, but I decide not to embarrass him by commenting. I’m not sure why he’s pretending he’s not interested in Nerissa, but he has his own demons to contend with, and we’re all dealing with it in our separate ways.

Nerissa peers over her shoulder and smiles.

“Morning, Lor. Breakfast is ready. Help yourself.” Then she returns to the stove, humming to herself, but not before her gaze falls on my brother for the briefest moment.

I sit down next to Tristan, and one by one, Nadir, Willow, Mael, and Hylene also file in, helping themselves to pastries, waffles, and crispy strips of bacon. While Nerissa is more than content to cook for us, she absolutely refuses to clean up our mess, which is a fair boundary.

Mael’s a bit of a slob, and I wouldn’t want to clean up after this lot either.

A few minutes into our meal, Amya enters with a letter in her hand and a grim set to her lips.

“What is it?” Nadir asks.

“I just received a report from The Aurora,” she says, scanning the page as though she’s hoping the words will rearrange themselves. “The Savahell Mine collapsed two days ago, killing almost six hundred low fae, a group of prisoners from Nostraza, as well as every guard on duty.”

We fall into silence at those words.

“The Savahell Mine?” Tristan asks, a raw edge to his voice. As an able-bodied male, he was regularly assigned to work in the mines during our days in the prison while Willow and I were assigned to more domestic tasks. He’d come back covered in black dust, too tired to eat, often with lash marks torn into his back.

Willow reaches out and takes his hand, squeezing it.

“Yes. It’s the largest jewel mine in The Aurora,” Nadir replies, missing their exchange. “Dissent has been growing for months. The working conditions are vile, and even several members of the Aurora council disagree with its practices, but my father doesn’t care. He just keeps pushing them to dig deeper and deeper.”

That’s when his gaze lands on where Willow is still gripping Tristan’s hand so tightly her knuckles are turning white.

“Did you…” Nadir asks.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Tristan says, cutting him off.

Nadir dips his chin in acknowledgment. “I’m sorry.”

There’s such anguish in that apology that my hands clench, my nails digging into my thighs.

Tristan nods and looks away, indicating he’d like to move on from the topic.

“Why does he keep digging?” Willow asks. “To what end? Don’t you have enough riches and jewels?”