“Our intel says Azrael hasn’t touched her.” Lydia’s voice is gentle. If I’ve ever heard her speak that way before, it would have to have been when I was a small child.
A light flickers in the room as Fin lights a candle.
From the bloodshot veins in his eyes, I can tell he hasn’t been sleeping either.
“That’s a relief,” he says, running his hands through his hair. My memory flickers back to something Asha told me months ago. When our relationship first progressed, Fin became visibly upset when he discovered what happened between us. Asha had thought very little of it, other than that it pained Fin to have his friend fall for the brother he hated so much.
I probably pondered it more than she did, watching the way my brother was with her, lighting up in her presence. The way he only seemed totally at ease when around her.
A pang of jealousy ripples through me at his statement of concern, though I squelch it immediately. He’s Asha’s friend, her brother by marriage, and he has every right to be concerned over her safety.
“I still can’t sleep,” I say, crossing my arms. “Just the idea of…” I feel the blood drain from my cheeks, and I wonder if I’ll become physically ill.
Light from the lamp flickers on Lydia’s sharp features as she sits upright and leans her back against the wall.
“It’s likely at least one of us will die tomorrow,” she says, looking at the ceiling rather than either of us.
I huff. “Well, I know who you’re putting your hopes in, Lydia.”
It’s meant to be a joke, but there’s too much truth in it to land properly. My sister frowns, then turns her piercing violet eyes upon me. “I don’t wish for you to die, Kiran.”
I cross my arms, allowing a faint smile to creep up on my face, because apparently I feel that will make this conversation less uncomfortable.
The smile must look strange on me, because she knits her brow. Fin says nothing, still standing by the candle in the corner.
“Well, I hope you don’t die either, Lydia.”
She doesn’t smile. Not that I was expecting her to. But still, there’s a sadness there in her eyes that I don’t quite understand, that I can’t quite grasp. Perhaps it’s the knowledge of the relationship we could have enjoyed had either of us put away our pride for a moment.
“I’m not sure you mean that,” she says, and now it’s my turn to frown.
“Lydia, we might not get along, and you might have intended to kill me at some point, but—”
She shakes her head, shooting to her feet, urgency bleeding all over her expression. For the first time in my life, I think I find anxiety on my sister’s face, especially as she chances a glance at Fin.
“There are things about me the two of you don’t know,” she says.
I can’t help but tense, anxiety wracking me for what she might say next. I’ve been suspicious for a while now of what type of business my sister conducts on those long trips of hers. Granted, I rarely ask questions. Lydia’s been a useful ally since we decided our goals aligned. No questions has always seemed like the best way to approach her, especially when asking for favors.
“I don’t think it’s going to surprise either of us if we learn you’ve gotten your hands dirty, Lydia,” says Fin, his voice still tinged with affection.
Lydia doesn’t laugh. In fact, she looks as though she’s bracing herself.
I don’t know what I’m expecting. Perhaps for a long-winded story slowly building us up to whatever it is she doesn’t want to tell us.
That’s a ridiculous thing to expect. This is Lydia we’re talking about it.
Still, I’m just as shocked when she says, with no emotion imbuing her face or voice, “I killed our mother.”
I tense, but Fin’s the one who drops his saucer, spilling sizzling tea all over Bezzie’s floor.
Anger boils within me, but it no longer flares outside of my skin, like it might have when I still possessed my Flame. Instead, it spirals inside me, mingling with confusion. “Why?” I can hardly breathe out.
All these years, I’ve assumed it was Rajeen who killed our mother. All these years, the reason for her death has made sense, especially since the revelation that she had an affair.
But Lydia.
My mind grapples for answers, but I find none.
“Father discovered my skill with the Flame early,” she says. “As much as he hated me for not being an heir, he decided I could be put to use. So he trained me. Beat me. Used me to take care of subjects who displeased him.”
Yes, that much I already know. It’s the whole reason our mother had an affair to begin with. In the hopes she could bear a son and redirect our father’s attention away from Lydia.
Fin still says nothing, though he’s shaking in the corner.
Lydia sighs, sorrow painting her violet eyes indigo. “When Father discovered Mother had had an affair…” She takes a breath before speaking, something I’ve never seen my sister do. “He lost his mind to jealousy. He summoned me to the dungeons, where he was keeping Mother and…” Her eyes snap to Fin apologetically, “and you, Fin.”
Fin says nothing.
Lydia pales, but when she speaks, it’s nothing compared to hearing my sister, my immovable sister’s voice shake. “He was lost to his own paranoia at that point. He’d convinced himself that Fin was illegitimate because of his lack of magic, but that you, Kiran, were his.”
Fin and I exchange disbelieving looks.
“We’re twins,” I say, hesitantly.
“Yes, and I already told you he was out of his mind. I don’t think he could bear believing that his favorite was not actually his heir. So he told himself the two of you had different fathers. Obviously, I don’t believe that to be the case. But he’d found a report of a set of twins from centuries ago who were born to different fathers, and he latched onto that, despite the lack of evidence.
“He said I had a choice,” Lydia says, and her voice goes quiet. So quiet, I can almost hear the child she was when it happened. “That I could choose between Fin and our mother.”
