Flame of Frost (The Caelestian Chronicles: Book #1)

Chapter 22 - Blast From The Past

"How—" Alacritas gasps.

"How much longer were you all planning to lie to me?" I hiss, fists clenched at my side. Ice, pure ice flows in my veins. Chilling my blood, encrusting my heart.

Clara appears from behind the driver's division door taking in the scene. "Can we take it slow?" She gulps, glancing at my palms. "Please?"

"This has been going slow for eleven years." Cold rage covered with calmness.

"Alexandra," Devin says from behind me and Grace. "Sit."
The coldness dies for a second, going blank. I blink once. Twice. Magic.

The fury comes rushing back as I turn to Devin, seething, Grace scrambles out of my way. Frost covers my fingers. "How dare you charm me?" I say, not bothering to lower my volume.

"Lex." More charm laced words. "Please, calm down—" Solid ice covers his mouth and he stops speaking, eyes flashing with anger.

"Lex!" Clara and Grace shriek together.

"Do not use your powers on me without my permission," I spit, pointing one finger at him. "And if you do, don't be shocked if I use mine." Grace stares at me with disbelief.

"Lex please," Alacritas begs. "Give me a chance to explain."

"Why?" My head whips around to find her holding herself up by the window as if she'll fall otherwise. "So you lie some more?"

"I swear I will not lie."

I laugh humorlessly. "Do you really expect me to believe one thing that comes out of that wretched mouth?"
Suddenly the air crackles with electricity and my mouth tastes metallic — Theora is awake and clearly pissed off.

"I don't expect you to believe me." My mother leans more onto the window. "I don't expect anything from you."

"You do expect me to sit on that throne."

"That's your destiny!"

"We create our own destiny!"

"Everything is not in our hands, Alexandra." She opens her palms. "Your name is that for a reason, you were born the heir to that throne for a reason."

"I don't believe in stories."

"You didn't believe in magic either." Alacritas shakes her head. "I was going to tell you everything today, but you found out everything beforehand and that's okay. We are going to arrive at Elisya tomorrow, you were bound to know before meeting the pe—medics."

"Well, forgive me if I don't believe you — because I don't."

"I swear on Theora, I'm not lying." Her eyes sparkle with tears. "We had no choice but to hide your memories."
At that word, my mind drifts to the cracked barrier, the blocked place between the timeline of my memories. The place I could never explore because of the thick wall that didn't break no matter how hard I beat it, thought that I had completely forgotten my childhood. But now the wall has thinned to nothing more than a cardboard, with a crevice in the center which had formed yesterday. I had been tempted to tear down — except I didn't, for the fear of more nightmarish truths waiting there for me.

"You were very close to your father." Alacritas sobs, falling onto her knees. "After h-he—"
Theora storms past me, not casting a glance at me. She kneels, putting an arm around Alacritas who leans into her.

"After your father and I went to war," Alacritas continues, steeling her voice, staring at the hover door. "You were very anxious, you didn't want to stay at the castle no matter how much the caretakers tried. We had won the war politically but... you were waiting for your father to return." She shudders.
"But he never did. Everyone thought it was best not to tell you, but for how long? You refused to eat, all you wanted was for him to come back. So we had to tell you." More tears pour out of her.
Theora squeezes her tighter.