A Trial of Sorcerers: Book One Kova, Elise (classic romance novels .TXT) 📖

to see her mother as she once had. But the face at her side was suddenly strange.

She turned back to her father—to Herron. “You’re lying.”

“Eira—” Reona began to say.

“You’re lying!” Eira pushed the woman away. She staggered backward, her body aching with every step. But this wasn’t from the trial. It was from a wound that had been there her whole life and she’d never known.

“This isn’t easy for us to tell you. Eira, please—” Reona began to attempt to soothe.

“You said you were ready, act like it,” Herron snapped. He was always brisk when he was in pain. This was like the time they were at the beach and she’d been caught in the tide. They’d thought she’d drowned. Her father had yelled at her through his worried tears. Eira stared up at his eyes, searching for warmth and finding none. She wanted to scream at him to show some kind of feeling as she cracked and shattered before them both.

“How… If you’re not… Who is?” she managed to say.

“You were left on our doorstep one winter’s night,” Herron answered. His matter-of-fact tone was grating her ears already. “We didn’t find you until morning. You were so still we thought you had frozen to death. But your mother insisted we take you inside anyway. You warmed up and began to cry.”

“I might not have given birth to you,” Reona said gently. “But you are every measure my daughter as Marcus is my son.”

As she listened, Eira pillaged her deepest and earliest memories for some recollection of what her parents were saying—for some proof this portrait of her beginnings was true. But she could find nothing. Her earliest memories were of playing with Marcus in winter.

Her brother.

Not my brother?

Eira gripped her head with both hands. She shook it back and forth as if she could scatter this truth like snow from her shoulders. And it was true. She knew it was. Some part of her must have always known, because it seemed so horribly obvious now.

Her mother had the same deep golden hair as Fritz, as Marcus, and the rest of the Charem family. Her father had a darker, ashen blond. Not platinum like Eira’s was. Her mother had a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks, which Marcus had also inherited faint speckles of. Eira’s complexion was void of any such marks.

Stop calling them Mother and Father, a voice raked against the back of her mind. They’re not.

But they are, her heart replied.

An argument began that would split her in two.

“Eira.” Two hands landed on her shoulders. She looked up to meet Reona’s eyes. “I know this is hard for you.”

“Hard?” She was the punch line of a horrible joke. That was why she couldn’t breathe now. Someone had hit her square in the gut. Eira wheezed hollow laughter out of trembling lips. Everyone had known. Everyone had seen it but her. The whole universe was laughing at her. They’d always been anyway, she’d just never realized the true reason why. Not even your mother could love you, that’s what Noelle had said three years ago on the night of the incident. Even Noelle somehow knew the truth. That was why it’d hurt so much. Eira had been the oblivious one. “You have no idea what this feels like.”

“We don’t, but we’re here to help you. We love you,” she soothed.

“You don’t love me!” Eira stepped away. The tides roared in her. Ice crackled cold under her numb fingertips. She would keep them from touching her again by force if she had to. She could hardly think with them looking at her. “If you—if you loved me, you would’ve told me. Someone would’ve told me. Why did no one tell me?”

Eira’s back hit the far wall. She hadn’t even realized she’d been moving. A wide gap was between her and her parents. Snow fell between them magically, creating an icy line.

“We wanted to,” Reona said, pleading. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “As you grew, it became harder and harder. We—”

“Hard for you?” Eira was almost shouting. “What about for me? Did you ever think of me?”

“Of course we did.” Herron stepped forward but didn’t cross her magic line. “That was all we thought about and why we were waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” What could’ve possibly had them keeping this secret from her?

“For you to be old enough to handle the truth and understand its importance.” Herron locked eyes with her. “There’s one more detail about that night you were found. You had a note tucked in your blankets. But there wasn’t writing on it, just the symbol of a trident.”

“What does it mean?” Eira whispered.

“You know what it means,” Herron said. He had grown up in Oparium. He had been the one to tell her the old sailors’ stories and make Eira swear she’d never repeat the name of the pirate queen. Her promises suddenly took on new meaning.

“No, no, that’s impossible. She’s a myth.” Eira shook her head frantically. No more, she wanted to beg. She couldn’t handle any more revelations.

“Adela was reported to have been seen thirty years ago in Oparium,” Herron said. Just the mention of Adela’s name made Eira cringe. That name alone was bad luck. She’d always hated it, but maybe was now uncovering the reason why.

“My sister, Gwen, found record of the incident at the summer palace in the guard’s logs, written by Prince Baldair,” Reona said sadly.

“Thirty years ago? I’m only eighteen.”

“Perhaps she came back. We had to keep you secret and safe.”

“Adela would’ve been ancient by then!” Eira shook her head. “There’s no way.”

“Perhaps another pirate has taken her name and continues terrorizing the seas. Perhaps she’s been made immortal by hate. Or perhaps you’re right,” Herron admitted. “Perhaps the trident was some desperate mother’s way of ensuring you would be taken in by offering a threat.”

“I could’ve been left out in the cold just as easily,” Eira realized. “Adela is bad luck… You… You both had no reason to take