Heir of Stardust and Secrets (Mythic Spark #1)

6. Family and Foe

Chapter 6

Family and Foe

E ithan’s touch lingered the next morning as I lay in bed, tracing a thumb across my lips, trying to preserve any vestige of him. The memory of yesterday fluttered down to my toes, and I allowed my mind to flash back to our echoing sounds of pleasure.

A sharp shiver ran through me. Gone. Eithan was…gone. How could I possibly move forward in this new life of firsts, without him?

“Nyleeria, are you awake?” my father’s husky voice asked through the door, startling me.

I shook off the memories and swallowed. “Yes. I’ll be out soon.”

Wiping away the tears that fell as if from a leaky faucet, I untangled myself from the blankets and took a deep breath, slowly exhaling in an attempt to wash away the ghost of yesterday, while bracing for today.

My parents beamed with excitement a few hours later when they heard the carriage holding Cassy and Leighton roll up in the early afternoon.

Here we go, I thought and readied myself.

It wasn’t as if my family was purposefully unkind to me; it was more like they didn’t know any better. Or at least that’s what I’d told myself over the years. They didn’t know who I , Nyleeria Leighmullan, had become, and none of them seemed inclined to remedy it. With Cassy and Leighton being raised by someone who believed me cursed, I could only imagine the indoctrination they were subjected to. So, when they visited, I listened, observed, and bit my tongue—often.

“Mamma! Pappa!” Cassy’s lilting, high-society voice exclaimed just outside the cabin doors.

Sounds of greetings and cheer filled the cabin as they made their way in. There was a flurry of cheek kisses between Cassy and Mother, and a strong handshake from Leighton to Father.

The twins offered me a modicum of the enthusiasm shown to our parents, forcing a cursory greeting—their dark-brown eyes devoid of the light I’d witnessed in them seconds before.

The coachman hovered at the doorway, awaiting instructions. I was glad for the distraction and showed him to the room.

When the bags had been hauled in and the carriage rolled away, I shut the door and took stock. The cramped living room felt even smaller as it overfilled with the excited animation and visiting chatter of reunion.

Cassy, always the raconteur, regaled our parents with tales of their journey. Expressive and loud, she gestured with her perfectly manicured alabaster hands—which hadn’t seen a moment of honest work—as she enraptured them with every emphatic detail. Leighton was taciturn in contrast and only chimed in when Cassy insisted on him corroborating her story.

The pair had an ease with one other, with our parents, who became animated in a way I’d never been privy to. An air of comfort and intimacy settled between the four of them, and the genuine pleasure at being in each other’s company was palpable—like a spectator, I sat next to my family, observing.

Worlds away, Cassy’s voice yanked me back to their reality.

“Pardon?” I said, struggling to refocus .

“I asked how that boy of yours is?” she said with a trace of annoyance, flicking her long, ripened-wheat hair over her shoulder.

That boy . The word dripped with condescension. She damn well knew his name, but Eithan didn’t interest Cassy. The question was simply a pretense of politeness, in the way that high society did polite—if one could call it that.

Cassy tilted her head, almost daring me to challenge her over the slight. I wouldn’t let myself be goaded by her. “Eithan is good.”

“Good?” Mother said, her voice rising a few octaves. “That boy’s father managed to secure a union with one of the most affluent families. He and his entire family moved to receive land and riches your grandparents could only dream of.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful news,” Cassy’s honeyed voice exclaimed as she clasped her hands together.

“He’s finally rid himself of you, eh?” Leighton said, watching for my reaction down his long, pointed nose. Stars, they looked alike; it was like facing two of Cassy.

I blinked at him, unsure of how to respond to the shot he’d just fired.

“Ah yes, he did fancy Nyleeria for a time, didn’t he?” Cassy said. “Perhaps he found the good sense the gods gave him and realized he didn’t want his future family to fall prey to misfortune.” She addressed the others as if I didn’t exist, and laughter filled the room. I sat there, oscillating between wanting to hurtle a blade at her and dissolving into tears. Calm, quiet fury won out.

For the remainder of the day, I stayed mute, providing cursory nods while only registering snippets of their discussion.

Eventually, evening came, and the conversation died down as everyone retired to their rooms. Emotionally exhausted, the hard couch creaked as I snuggled into my blankets, wishing I could sleep until they left.

Still too raw from Eithan leaving to endure another moment with my family, I extricated myself from the cabin as soon as possible the next morning. My craving to train chaffed, and it needed to be satiated as soon as humanly possible.

Apart from his bandolier and blades, Eithan left our weapons. He’d claimed that traveling with them would be difficult and he’d have an easier time replacing them than I would. He was right; with his new financial standing, he could easily procure new ones of a greater caliber in a fraction of time. I had nothing but deep gratitude for this tender mercy. Indeed, I’d shown him just how appreciative I was when he’d told me.

I arrived at the cave where we stored the weapons and shifted the boulder that hid our stash. Stepping in, I saw a folded piece of parchment wedged between the wooden dowels we’d used as swords. Knowing I’d find a note from Eithan if I unfolded it, I tucked it away in my pocket, incapable of reading its contents in that moment. Bandolier in hand, I made for the training ring.

Taking up my position, I didn’t hesitate before unleashing my daggers. Round after round blurred until the rawness of my throat halted me. I hadn’t noticed I’d been screaming, although I had noted that the blades were stubborn to retrieve—anger and hurt clearly fueling my every throw.

Drained, I finally mustered the courage to remove the folded note from my pocket. Taking a seat, I took a few sips of water and reclined against a towering tree. Looking down, I traced my name where Eithan inscribed it in his flawless script. A smile played on my lips as I remembered him griping when I’d forced him to practice to perfection, just as he’d drilled me to tie those damn knots until I could do so in my sleep.

My smile faded as I unfolded the page.

Ny,

Let me guess, you’re up here throwing blades because your family is a bunch of pricks? Good! Maybe you won’t just remember your promise to me, but will actually start taking it seriously. Don’t let them tear you down, Ny. Use every moment they don’t treat you with love, respect, kindness, and understanding as fuel.

I’ll write to you when I’m settled, but it won’t be for at least a month.

With love,

Eithan

PS: I hope you gave the trees hell today.

I read and reread the note, allowing his soothing voice to fill my mind. I treasured how he knew me so well, how he’d known I would seek out my blades for comfort. In that moment, I felt understood. I felt loved.

Morning slipped into afternoon sooner than I wanted. While I wasn’t quite ready to venture back to the cabin, I finally felt centered again.

Eithan’s note had kindled something in me. I wanted to try a new tack with my family, one where I could detach myself from their opinions and cling to my own truths. If they uttered anything as senseless as they had last night, I would just imagine how Mrs. E, or Eithan, would respond. It would lessen the sting of their comments and possibly provide comedic relief. I wasn’t sure it would work, but it was worth a try.

Early evening had come by the time I made my way back. Just as I went to step into the cabin’s clearing, male voices and the soft clopping of hooves caught my attention. I paused, lending my ears to the sounds, then moved to gain a better vantage point while staying hidden behind the tree line. I instinctively checked for the dagger Eithan had given me, which was safely tucked into my boot.

Two men of considerable size, possibly thirty years of age, were loitering by the cabin. The one on the right had a thicker build than his counterpart, although both had the tapered musculature I’d only known mercenaries to possess. But they were too clean and well-groomed to be hired swords, not to mention they possessed an air of authority that didn’t belong to the lawless.

They faced away from me as they headed toward the cabin’s entrance. Massive greatswords were sheathed across their backs, the hilts extending past their shoulders. Neither of them seemed to take note of the added mass of the imposing blades.

Their attire and riding gear appeared to be of the highest quality, and their horses were beautifully kept—their coats catching what light remained.

The amount of tack they carried suggested they’d been traveling for less than a week.

A third man, with loose, dirty-blond curls, joined them. He faced me, but as he approached his companions, their bulk obscured him from sight.

I strained to listen, but from the distance, I could only pick out fragments of their conversation. I thought one of the men said slaughter , but I must have misheard. As I moved along the tree line to get closer, I could finally see the third man.

My heart stopped, and I held my breath, trying to reconcile the crisp, white rag that soaked in the crimson from his hands.

All thought and self-preservation left me as I bolted toward the cabin. Toward my family.