“Let me finish the story, Farrow. You’ll soon understand why all of this is my fault.”
I bit my tongue and waited for him to continue.
“From a young age, my parents suspected I possessed the ability to invade other people’s minds, to implant visions and blur the boundaries between reality and fantasy. Being as young as I was, I didn’t question my proclivities any more than a normal child would have their own imagination. I learned I could delveinto the minds of those around me, and I delighted in unlocking their most private memories and fears without remorse.”
He paused, the deadened look returning to his eyes as he gazed down at the floor.
“No one even bothered to tell me what I was until I was thirteen. As I’ve told you, Darkseers are rare among Ethervaleans. You happen to have met several of the most dangerous sort of Daemons, but most who reside in Ethervale possess more useful, practical forms of softmagic. However, my parents, being ambitious nobles in the Ivory Court, sought to take advantage of my… talents.” His expression darkened. “You already know what happened. My mother was determined to hone my abilities and forge them into a weapon. If I could manipulate and control the minds of the deadliest Daemons, then nothing could prevent my family from becoming the most powerful in Ethervale.” His throat bobbed before he continued, “The limits of my magic were pushed to the point of instability.”
A cold shiver ran through me.
“My mother became convinced that bloodmagic was the amplifier we needed to ensure my powers remained unmatched. I was the key to usurping the Pretender Queen,” he explained. “She was willing to risk ending our entire lineage if it meant a grasp at power. We are only a year apart, Isolde and I, but she always seemed so much younger than me. I am very… protective of her.” His expression was raw as he met my gaze. “I tried to shield her from the consequences of my mother’s ambition, but my efforts weren’t enough.”
Nausea churned in my stomach, but Casimir continued:
“My mother was determined to access bloodmagic at any cost, even if that meant joining the Bloodthorn Order’s rebellion.Devereaux’srebellion. I was put in a difficult position. My mother was so heavily involved that if the rebellion failed, my entire family would be imprisoned or killed. So, I joined them.” He gave a humorless laugh. “What we were too arrogant to see was that while we were busy planning a coup, Nymara had discovered how to shield against my glamours. She is the Queen of bloodmagic, after all. By then, the council was entirely corrupt—every month they implemented curfews or anti-sedition acts. Of course, Nymara quickly learned of my parents’ betrayal.” The light that had briefly illuminated his features extinguished, leaving an empty darkness in its wake. “One night, while my parents were plotting at the home of another noble Daemon, Isolde was kidnapped. She was held captive as leverage to force my parents to surrender.”
“And did they?”
He shook his head grimly. “Nymara killed my father outright—being the head of the family, he took most of the blame—and banished my mother. Members of the Queen’s Emberguard tortured and branded the rebels before imprisoning or exiling us. But Isolde—she was innocent in all of it. Once I realized that Nymara was willing to kill family members as punishment, I became desperate to protect her. I managed to persuade Kheo Mandagna, the Head of Nymara’s Emberguard, to spare Isolde’s life. We were childhood friends, you see. He agreed, if only out of a begrudging sense of obligation.”
“You saved her.”
“And much good it did her,” he replied bitterly. “Isolde was stripped of her powers and banished to a cell in Carcerus. The Queen commuted my sentence after only two years when she realized exiling me would prove a more effective torment. To render me incapable of protecting my sister while she lives out her sentence in darkness and deprivation.” He took a shuddering breath. “I haven’t seen her in years. I don’t know what state she is in… if she is still kept in isolation… If she has managed to salvage some part of her mind, or—” He couldn’t finish the thought.
So,thisis what August had meant when he’d said Casimir wouldn’t want me to end up like Isolde. Imprisoned, powerless, and half-mad from isolation.
I now understood why Casimir had willingly fought alongside Devereaux all those years ago. Helping Devereaux win the rebellion had been his only hope of keeping his family together. Even now, the idea of restoring the Orders’ powers in order to rebel against the council and Nymara sounded tempting. A hollow, sinking feeling filled me as a new realization hit me. If Nymara was powerful enough to quash a rebellion led by Devereaux and his band of bloodthirsty Daemons once, who was to say he wouldn’t fail again? The consequences of a second failure would be catastrophic. At the worst, he would leave August dead and Isolde imprisoned forevermore.
“I need a cigarette,” Casimir grumbled, looking uncharacteristically frazzled as he fumbled for his gold case.
I shot him a warning look. “Please enjoy itoutside.”
For once, he didn’t argue.
When he returned from the frigid outdoors, Casimir found me seated on the couch. I crinkled my nose at the smell of smoke clinging to his clothes, but given the circumstances, I refrained from making a snarky comment.
“Casimir, listen. I appreciate your telling me about Isolde,” I said. “but… from what you’ve told me, none of it was your fault.”
Confusion and dismay registered briefly across Casimir’s face.
“What are you talking about?” he asked bluntly.
“What happened to Isolde wasn’t your fault. It was your mother’s job to protect you, and instead she used you as a political pawn and put your entire family at risk.”
Casimir stared at me for a moment before slowly shaking his head. “I was old enough to make my own decisions, Arden. I should never have joined the rebellion. It was doomed from the very beginning, and if I hadn’t, maybe Isolde would’ve been spared?—”
“Speculating and hypothesizing is just a waste of energy,” I interrupted him. “You didn’t have agency to make your own decisions. You were emotionally blackmailed into joining the rebellion.”
He heard, but continued to look deeply troubled.
“I don’t know how to make you feel better,” I admitted.
Irritation flared in his gaze. “You know what would make me feel better, Farrow? If you promise to wear the Yu-Ri necklace to the Jewel Ball.”
I rolled my eyes in exasperation. He was always looking for an angle. But I acquiesced, “Fine, fine. I’ll wear it. Happy?”
“Ecstatic,” he answered wryly. With a crooked smirk, he added, “It really does go well with the dress, too, you know. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that it has protective enchantments… Now,” he said brusquely, clapping his hands together, “no more stalling, Farrow. It’s past time to rid ourselves of our meddlesome sprite.”