Page 5 of This Shattered Star

Diana yanked on the strings of my corset once more, pulling them so tight that my ribs groaned in protest. Surely, the lines bracketing the sides of her mouth were deepening with each tug.

But it was her own fault for slipping the crumpled piece of paper into my palm earlier in the evening, a single name written in her neat, precise pen strokes.

She knew how scarce my time was. And yet, she’d done it anyway.

Her hatred for me could span over a million lifetimes. But I would always despise her more.

If, by the grace of the stars, I lived through the next few days, she wouldn’t be able to lay a hand on me ever again. Nor would I be forced to do her bidding. She would have to stain her own soul with red.

If she had one to begin with.

The gods had cursed me to live without the ability to conjure mere sparks at my fingertips, something all children could do before learning how to walk. What was contained in my right iris had done its job magnificently.

I didn’t want the glory or money that came with winning. I wantedpower.

The ancient magic contained within the Temple of Borealis had to be enough to overturn the curse.

I’d make sure of it.

“Your mother wore a similar gown before her trials. She received flowers identical in color on her doorstep that very same night, courtesy of your father.” Diana’s words jarred through my mind as much as it did my heart.

Corset fully tied, I kept my face neutral while she ushered me to sit down, facing her on the stool next to my vanity mirror.

She shook her head, as if disagreeing with herself. “Everyone at court envied them. Wanted tobethem. The Starlight Champions who had it all. Power, riches, love. But it wasn’t enough, was it? They had to go poking their noses in places where they did not belong.”

They’d believed their combined magic strong enough to reverse what plagued me if they could find the right tools. Without cease, they scoured the kingdom for spells and potions, or even the tiniest scrap of information that would assist in breaking my curse.

“We always had similar tastes,” I replied stiffly, earning an exaggerated scoff.

“Hardly.”

“Like you would know. You were hardly ever around before.”

“Finish your sentence, girl. Before they werebutchered. Slaughtered beyond recognition.” I reined in my wince. “My daughter was no fool, except when it came to you.Always you.” She could’ve slapped me, and it would’ve felt the same. “Making enemies left and right just to chase something that did not exist. I warned her. Power of that magnitude is always bound to attract leeches,” she droned on, dipping a thin brush into a pot of powder. Her hand remained impressively steady, each stroke of the bristles across my eyelids applied with masterful precision.

Diana was court-born, having never participated in the Starlight Trials. But she loved acting like it. Like she was better than everyone else.

“Instead, she flung her magic around, practically bragging to anyone that would listen. Your father was no better. So much breath I wasted, warning them that no amount of magic can go against the will of the gods. That nothing couldfixyou, as they claimed. They didn’t listen, and look where that got them.”

“Enough,” I snarled. The weight of their deaths already gnawed incessantly on the outermost corners of my heart. On what was left of it.

The small brush hovered in the air, but Diana’s free hand snapped out, gripping the lower portion of my face. She squeezed hard enough that my jaw threatened to dislocate, protesting against her iron, claw-like hold. Floral perfume stungthe inside of my nostrils as she leaned in, close enough that I could almost see the darkness of her heart swirling behind the caramel hue of her irises.

“You don’t get to claim what is enough,” she whispered vehemently. “Not when their deaths are on your hands.” She shoved at my face, the force of it cranking my neck backwards. “Sit still. I’m almost finished.”

She hastily painted my right eyelid and switched out the brush for a tube of rouge.

My next breath was far too thin as I blinked once to clear the heat that threatened to wet my lashes. Clenched the base of the chair until my knuckles ached.

My parents were kind, and far from foolish. They knew what they were doing when they went searching for a cure.

But in a small, rotten piece of me, Diana’s words festered.

Less than a month after their deaths, I’d barely turned fourteen when she’d given me the first slip of paper, etched with a single name. She’d sworn that if I did not rid the kingdom of that name, Maverick’s favor or not, she would ensure I’d have no way back inside the castle.

Aedreath’s restless streets were far from welcoming. And their shadows couldn’t hide me forever.

It was as much of a death sentence as she could give me.