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Cleo gasped. Her sister had been in love with a guard who’d died two months ago. “It was Theon’s father, wasn’t it?”
Emilia’s breath caught and she stared at Cleo with surprise before she began to sob harder.
Cleo had guessed correctly. Her sister had been in love with the king’s bodyguard who’d been thrown from his horse to his death. A tragedy. Cleo’s heart had bled for Theon’s loss. She’d had no idea that it was a loss also felt by her sister.
“I’m so, so sorry.” She hugged Emilia as her sister’s blood-tinged tears soaked into the shoulder of her gown. It was unusual for her sister to be so emotional. She normally hid her tears, even from Cleo. Emilia had always been poised and perfect, smart and sophisticated, while Cleo struggled with being on her best behavior. Emilia was always the rock—comforting Cleo when she was upset over some idle gossip or a petty argument with a friend. Or the loss of her innocence to Aron.
“You’re the same as you were yesterday and the day before,” she’d soothed. “Nothing has changed. Not really. Forget what troubles you. Regret nothing, but learn from any mistakes you make. Tomorrow will be a brighter day, I promise.”
“I’m so sorry he’s gone,” Cleo murmured into her sister’s hair. “I wish it could be different. But please don’t say you prayed to die. You can’t ever say something like that.”
“I thought I would die from the pain when I first learned of his death. It was as if I’d lost my husband, not only my lover.” Emilia drew in a shaky breath. “While Simon and I could never dream of being married in reality, two weeks before he died, he rode with me out to the Lesturne Valley, a few hours past town. We spent the day together, pledging our love and devotion with the beauty of nature as our witness. I committed myself to him forever and he to me. It was perfect, Cleo. For just a few hours, everything was so perfect. We watched the sunset together and counted the stars as they appeared. He said we’d become stars when we died, watching over the ones we love. Now I watch the sky every night hoping to find him there—hoping to see him again. I miss him so much I know it’s the cause of this illness. My grief has burrowed into me like a dark thing that eats away at my life.”
“You mustn’t allow it to.” Cleo’s throat was so tight, but her words held anger. “You can’t. You’re to be the queen one day. If you die, that means it’ll be me. Trust me, Emilia, that would be a very bad thing. I would make a terrible queen. As horrible as all of this has been for you and as much as my heart breaks for this secret you’ve kept locked tight inside you, I refuse to accept that you’re dying from grief. You’re sick, that’s all. And sick people get well again.”
“The healers I’ve seen don’t understand what’s wrong with me. They have no answers or medicine other than the ones that make me want to sleep all day.” Emilia snorted softly. “Although, one suggested I seek help in Paelsia. That it was my only hope for survival.”
“From whom in Paelsia?” Cleo asked immediately.
Emilia waved a hand. “It’s a legend, that’s all.”
“What legend?”
Emilia’s smile widened. “Suddenly, my sister who only believes in things she can see is interested in stories and legends.”
“If you don’t tell me, I swear I’ll scream.”
“Goodness, wouldn’t want that.” Emilia’s pale face looked tired and she leaned her head back on her pillow. “The healer told me of a woman in Paelsia who acts as guardian to the original grape seeds that were infused with earth magic. They’re the ones that helped the vineyards to begin to produce such incredible wine. She tends to these vineyards with her own earth magic that she shields from the rest of the world.”
“Magic,” Cleo said skeptically.
“I know you don’t believe, which is why I didn’t want to tell you.”
“So this woman has magic seeds and is responsible for the vineyards growing so wonderfully in Paelsia. Why doesn’t she use this magic to help Paelsia out of its poverty?”
“Perhaps her magic cannot reach that far. But legend has it that the seeds she possesses have the ability to heal even the more dire illnesses.”
“And who is this woman that she’d have such magic at her disposal?”
Emilia looked reluctant to say anything else.
“Well?” Cleo persisted.
“An exiled Watcher. One who left the Sanctuary many years ago.”
“A Watcher,” Cleo said with disbelief.
“That’s right. So you’re right. Fantasy, that’s all. Watchers don’t really exist. There’s no one out there spying on us through the eyes of birds, hoping for clues of where to find the Kindred.”
“I’ve never believed in such nonsense.”
“Which is why I hesitated in telling you any of this.” She wiped a fresh trickle of blood from beneath her nose. Cleo’s heart, which had all but recovered itself, began to hurt again.
“Emilia...” Her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know what to do.”
Emilia’s expression held deep distress. “I—I never should have told you any of this. My story got away from me. I only meant to say that if you really don’t want to marry Aron, tell Father. Make him understand that you’ll die if you do. And if you fall in love with someone else, you need to spend as much time with him as possible because you never know when he might be taken from you. Follow your heart wherever it leads. Appreciate life, Cleo. It’s a gift that can be stolen at any time. No matter what happens to me now with this illness, I don’t regret a moment I spent with Simon.”
Cleo gritted her teeth. “You won’t die. I simply won’t allow it.”
