In the Wake of the Wicked (Veridian Empire #1)

34. Rose

34

Rose

I had to take another sleeping potion to get any rest. My mind kept replaying the conversation with Gayl over and over, trying to reconcile the tyrant I’d seen him as with the image of him and my father growing up together. Little boys, unruly teenagers, brothers and confidants and friends .

I wondered what had forced Gayl to leave Feywood. Why he’d left his family behind, changed his name, and never bothered to visit—even after knowing his brother had died. He’d never even met my mother. There was more to the story, and the longer I stewed in my own thoughts, the stronger the urge to uncover our family secrets grew.

His story about coming to Veridia City and growing closer to Branock Aris pricked at me, too. I knew Gayl had been a trusted advisor—it was why the empire was in shock after he seemingly overthrew Aris and took his position on the throne. That was the ultimate act of betrayal. But from how Gayl told the tale, Branock had made the decision to leave on his own, and for a good reason. His son’s life was the answer to breaking the curse—what man could live with that hanging over his head?

The next morning dawned far too brightly, and I knew before I could focus on any of this, I had to get through the challenger’s feast that night and the second trial starting tomorrow. And breakfast with my aunt and cousin. We’d made plans for one last meal before the trial, choosing to visit the Gershwin Tea House—the one I’d met Rothy at the week before. I didn’t imagine this would be the cozy get-together Morgana expected, though. I had some choice questions for her after everything I’d learned.

The short carriage ride was…uncomfortable. Morgana and Beau kept asking me about the other challengers, if I’d made any friends, if I was ready for the second trial, whether or not I thought I’d have to fight a lion or tiger or some other wild beast. That last one came from Beau—his obsession with the dangers of the trials was endearing, I had to admit. I could only give short answers, too distracted and, if I was being honest, too upset that Morgana and Ragnar had kept such secrets from me.

We arrived at the familiar green brick shop. The flowers bloomed as vibrant as ever under the bright morning sun. Smells of floral teas and delicious baked goods wafted through the air as we ascended the short black steps and made our way inside.

Behind the counter, Rothy’s eyes lit when they landed on me, the smile lines on her dark skin creasing with pleasant surprise. “Rose! I wondered when I might see you again.”

I gave her a sheepish grin. “Had to make good on my promise of buying all your teas and charms. Did Colette make it back to you safely?” I felt terrible for not checking back with her sooner. The past week had been such a blur, and all the things I held guilt for were beginning to blend together.

“She did. My girl always comes back home. I’m glad you’re alright,” Rothy said, her lips turning down slightly into a look of pity. “I saw the rankings. You’ll get them next time, I’m sure of it.”

I forgot how publicized the rankings were here, having been tucked away at the palace. I couldn’t stop my grimace. “Thanks, Rothy,” I said. “Oh, and this is my aunt and cousin—Morgana and Beau Gregor of Feywood.”

The three of them shook hands and chatted politely while we placed our orders for tea and pastries. Morgana and Rothy hit it off immediately, discussing various herbal blends and what kinds grew here as opposed to Feywood. By the end of their conversation, a line had formed behind us and Morgana had promised she’d come back later to try a couple of Rothy’s charms.

We took our seats at a table in the back of the outdoor seating area, a secluded little spot up against a small garden. “You’ve been rather quiet this morning, dear,” Morgana said, covering my hand with hers on the table. “Is everything alright?”

My stomach churned. It was now or never, I supposed. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” I licked my lips, swallowing my nerves. When I took out my pouch and sprinkled a bit of blackthorn ash for a silencing spell, her brow creased with worry.

“I received a message from His Majesty last night,” I started, and Morgana instantly went still. “He said he wanted to speak with me, so I met with him in the west tower.”

I didn’t think my aunt was breathing. Her face paled as she pressed her lips together. Beau glanced awkwardly between the two of us over his chocolate muffin.

“And what did His Majesty have to say?” Morgana finally asked, her voice tight, eyes focused on her steaming tea.

“He said he grew up in Feywood.” When Morgana hummed, I pressed on. “And that he knew my father.” Nothing but a raised eyebrow as she took a sip. I crossed my arms, my temper and stubbornness flaring. I wanted to give her the chance to confess, but she was making it difficult. “I’m surprised you never bothered to tell me you were friends with the emperor, that’s all.”

“We were no friends of his,” Morgana hissed, slamming her porcelain cup down.

“But you knew him!” I cried out. “You knew what he was—what he is . To me.” My voice broke on the last word. I gripped my tea cup tightly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her eyes pleaded with me. “Rose?—”

“Tell her what , Ma?” Beau asked.

I licked my lips. “That Emperor Gayl was my father’s brother. ”

Beau’s cup clattered to the saucer, a bit of chocolate falling out of his open mouth. “ What ?” he barked.

“This is not the place for this conversation,” Morgana said in hushed tones, glancing around at the nearby tables.

“If not here, then where?” I countered. “I cast a silencing spell. Nobody can hear us. I want to know why you and Ragnar never told me about this.” Realization struck me as I spoke, and I leaned forward. “Wait, was this why you didn’t want me to come here? Why you tried to convince me to stay home?” She didn’t respond, which only bolstered my anger, a venomous heat burrowing under my skin. “This whole time, I believed you were my last living relatives, and that everyone on my father’s side died in the pandemic. What else have you kept from me? What else have you lied about?”

“Nothing!” she said in a barely-controlled whisper. “Your grandparents—Hamilton’s parents— did perish from illness. We didn’t lie to you about that.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Your father made us promise not to tell you about Theodore. He didn’t want you to know the sins of his past, dear. The mistakes that stained him and his brother’s youth.”

Confusion swirled within me. “What are you talking about? What sins ?”

“Your father was a good man, Rose. You must know that,” she began. “But Theodore…he was never like the other children, from the stories we heard. Ragnar and I didn’t know him personally. He was a bit older than us, and left Feywood when we were still young. But…people talked.

"He was dark. Troubled. He mostly kept to himself, constantly sequestered in his room researching and creating unnatural spells. He liked to experiment on others—wild creatures from the forest, even children of the village. The things we heard…” She shuddered. “He hid bones of small animals under his bed, kept vials of hair and nails and skin in his dresser, and was often seen with cuts along his hands and fingers. It was all rumors at the time, of course. I actually pitied him when I was younger, although I’d never spoken a word to him. He seemed…lost. But then your father told us the truth. Theodore had been practicing blood magic ”—Morgana lowered her voice and snuck a glance at Beau, as if scared for him to hear the words—“for years, ever since he discovered it as a teenager.”

The air seemed to chill several degrees. Blood magic was strictly forbidden in Feywood, though I would be foolish to believe there weren’t some who practiced it anyway. It was incredibly powerful magic, so potent it could increase the effects of a normal incantation by tenfold. But its consequences were just as devastating and frighteningly unpredictable.

Twelve years ago, a man not too far from our home had used blood magic to raise his wife from the dead. It had worked, to an extent—her corpse had indeed risen, but not her spirit. She’d become a lifeless, soulless husk who slaughtered her husband in front of their child with the very knife he’d used to shed his own blood. I remembered Ragnar and several other leaders of the village being summoned as the animated corpse rampaged the street, stopping her only after she’d killed three other innocent people.

They burned both her and her husband’s bodies. I’d smelled the lingering scent of burnt flesh and sickly sweet, decaying magic for weeks.

It was dangerous. I knew it was dangerous—but my thirteen-year-old self had still been somewhat…curious. A morbid fascination with this family and how it had gone so terribly wrong.

“And…he taught Hamilton how to wield it, as well,” Morgana continued.

I recoiled at her words, pulled back from the memory. “My father practiced blood magic ?”

Morgana worried at her lip, her fingers tapping anxiously against her cup. “This was why he asked us not to tell you. He was so ashamed of this part of his life. Hamilton was barely into adulthood when their parents died, and was susceptible to his older brother’s machinations. He couldn’t bear for you to know the dark things he did.” Her voice dropped even lower. “And we didn’t want you to remember him that way. He changed long before you were born. He and Theodore had a terrible falling out, right before Theodore fled Feywood and moved to Veridia City.”

My mind couldn’t keep up with all I’d learned over the past twenty-four hours. What had my father done ? What sort of magic had he and Gayl performed? I was intrigued and horrified at the same time. The memories I held of my father seemed to merge with a version of him I’d never known, making me question everything.

“What was their falling out over?” I asked.

“Hamilton didn’t want to walk that path any longer. He tried to convince Theodore to stop practicing such magic, and Theodore refused. Things became heated. Your father never told us the specifics, except that they fought and Hamilton decided he wanted nothing to do with his brother if he continued in that lifestyle. Theodore left the next day and was never seen in Feywood again.”

The timeline lined up with what Gayl had told me. He left for Veridia City, changed his surname—which made sense now, given what he was running from. Made his life in the capital and never looked back, not even when his brother got married or had a child or died .

My stomach roiled at the sympathy I’d begun to feel for the man. He’d pulled my father into his dark magic, convincing a grieving, impressionable mind to participate in who knew what kinds of wicked deeds. It was safe to assume he hadn’t stopped practicing, given the fact that he brought Leo Aris back from the dead . I should’ve realized it when he told me last night—blood magic was the only thing powerful enough. And he had to be significantly powerful for it to work, as opposed to turning Leo into a breathing corpse the way the man from Feywood had.

My aunt gripped my hands. “Rose, dear, I’m so sorry you had to find out this way. We were honoring your father’s wishes, but I hate that it might have caused you any pain. Ragnar and I, we—we love you so much.” Silver lined her eyes, her hands trembling around mine. “I would never want you to think you can’t trust us. We just…didn’t know what else to do. Didn’t know how you would react even if we did tell you, considering how difficult your father’s death has been for you.”

“I understand,” I whispered. “I still wished you’d told me.”

She dabbed at her eyes. “I know. We should have. Fates, I never expected to have to have this conversation without him.”

Beau and I glanced at each other. We both knew the “him” she was referring to. With a look of sympathy, Beau scooted his chair closer to his mother. “Hey—Ma, he’s going to be okay,” he said, throwing a gangly arm around her. “We’ll get him back.”

“Oh, I know, sweet boy.” Morgana sniffed and leaned on his shoulder, turning her gaze toward me. “We will, won’t we?”

I swallowed. I read past her words and into the question she was really asking. Had this revelation changed anything about my mission? Was I still committed to reversing the curse?

“Yes,” I said quietly. “Somehow.”

“And are you going to tell them about this?” she asked, straightening. Beau shot her a confused look.

I blinked. “Tell them about—about Gayl and my father?”

“Don’t make the same mistake we did, Rose,” she said. “We stayed silent out of respect for Hamilton, yes, but also out of fear. We didn’t want to make life more difficult for you, or for anything to change between us. But we should have been honest . And…things are so much bigger now. You have a responsibility to consider.”

Fates, I hated it when she pulled honor and logic into her arguments.

“This doesn’t have to change anything,” I said, although I wasn’t sure I believed my own words. “I can still be loyal to them. Just because he’s my uncle doesn’t mean he means anything to me.”

She gave me a look only a mother could give. It made my heart clench. “Even if that’s what you believe, dear, don’t they deserve to know? Trust me, openness and honesty is the only way you will be able to work effectively with them. We all want the same thing. Don’t let your pride and fear get in the way of that. You need to tell them the truth.”

The truth . Gayl’s words rang through my head. There were so many truths, more than even my aunt knew.

“What if the truth could hurt someone?” I murmured, no longer thinking about Gayl, but of Leo’s connection to the curse.

Her lips turned down into a frown. “Who could this information possibly hurt, Rose?” she asked, oblivious to the thoughts churning in my mind. “The only thing at stake here are those under the curse. You’re doing this to help them. Like you said, this changes nothing except further strengthening the Sentinels’ trust in you.”

I closed my eyes. She was right—about telling them Gayl was my uncle, at least. Truthfully, it was selfish of me to want to keep that to myself. I didn’t want them to see me any differently. But they had a right to know all the facts.

Unless it might hurt them. They didn’t need to know everything . Not yet, anyway.

A heavy sigh left my lips. “Alright,” I said. “I’ll tell them.”

She smiled. “I’m proud of you, Rosie.”

“Okay,” Beau said with a huff, slapping a hand on the table. “ What are you two talking about?”

I snorted, almost forgetting he’d been listening. “Oh, Beau Beau,” I teased, reaching across the table to ruffle his hair. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”