Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 156210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Tristan steps inside, still dressed in wedding finery, yet every piece of clothing seems limp on him now, like feathers on a sickly bird. He closes the door behind him in silence. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this somber.
“We need to talk,” he says and sits at the table, eying me from there without mercy.
The indignity of my actions hits home, and I shoot to my feet, approaching him without a moment’s hesitation. “Is Luke fine?”
“Physically, yes. He’s being detained in the Moon Tower, under shadow wards. But his situation is far from steady.” Tristan taps his fingers against the table, not even looking at me. It reminds me of how excited he was in the morning to get his nails painted black with the human nail polish.
Maybe I should have never replaced my brother? Maybe I should have stayed hidden forever, or gone someplace far from the court, where no elf could recognize my face, living simply but enjoying my freedom.
“He doesn’t deserve any of this,” I say, settling in a chair across from Tristan.
“No, he does not. But I’m not here to talk about him. I need answers, Kyranis. Or whatever your name is. I took my knighthood vows at twenty. Just days after you—your brother—the two of you, were born. I dedicated my life to the cause of keeping him safe. I deserve the truth.”
My back aches under the weight of his gaze, but I meet it all the same. “My name is Kyran, and my family kept me hidden in the shadowild.”
He meets my gaze, as if he’s finally ready to see me. “It’s not… illegal to keep a sunspawn alive, but all of this feels so wrong. Not only a twin, but the twin of a crown prince?” Tristan shakes his head. “You don’t seem feral. You’ve been brought up by your family.”
I frown, unable to help the spike of hurt in my chest, because out of all the people at court, I have always seen Tristan as more of a friendly figure. “Of course I’m not feral. I am a man like any other. With needs for things that I have been denied since birth!”
When golden eyes settle on me, as if Tristan is surprised a monster like me is capable of forming complete sentences, the dam of pride and dignity crumbles. I know this might be my only chance to speak my truth, so I let words flow. I tell him how I envied Kyranis having actual playmates when I was forced to watch or play with toys, how I missed out on everything from family celebrations to first kisses. How I had to grieve my mother in solitude. How I was forced to remain unseen and live vicariously through a brother who grew to enjoy knowing I always watched.
How Kyranis seduced a boy I liked, how he’d have me replace him when it came to activities he didn’t enjoy, and how I protected his life in secret, gathering countless eels on my skin. When I tell Tristan the specifics about a hunt I accompanied him on, because the real Kyranis was too hungover to participate, the golden eyes grow wide as dessert plates.
“All this time, I wasn’t alone in protecting him.” Tristan lets out the saddest chuckle, sliding his fingers into his hair. “And the duel with Swordmaster Fern from the capital. Was that you? He—you fought like I’ve never seen Kyranis fight before, and there was a crate of Nerunian wine at stake.”
I give him a bitter smile. “I wasn’t offered a single glass for that win. I was my brother’s servant, paid in chances to have my existence acknowledged and to feel moonlight on my skin. I missed out on so much,” I whisper, swallowing hard as Tristan meets my gaze. “He didn’t even bother to choose his own Dark Companion and sent me to pick one instead, since we’re twins and share the same blood.”
Tristan’s frown deepens and he hunches his shoulders. “I… served your brother the best I could, but I also recognized he was a very flawed prince. It seems that he was more rotten than I ever could have imagined. I thought he would get serious after your father’s death, that he was just going through growing pains. I know all about the temptations of drinking and enjoying myself in beds that don’t belong to me, but he had only grown meaner in the past years. Mistreated servants, toyed with hearts, and boasted about his place on the throne, for which he didn’t seem to want to reach. When I got glimpses of him studying court documents, it felt like seeing a different person. Now I know why.”
“I always liked talking with you,” I say, relaxing when tension drains from Tristan’s body. “You are a good friend. Thank you for taking care of Luke. I… I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to him,” I admit, but while this is true, I hope that by making this point, I might ensure Tristan is even more protective of him.