For the throne, he reminded himself. All he did now was for the throne and not her.
Thalia placed the bottle on the coffee table and stood from the couch with her gun cradled over her arms, pointed away from the men. Kieran and Bastien stood as well.
She looked from one brother to the other. “I thank you both for helping me with those… whatever those things were. But I’m going to politely decline your invitation to go back.”
Kieran looked to his brother for direction, but Bastien was done trying to talk sense into her. He held out his hand, palm facing her. Thalia tipped her head curiously at his gesture, as it seemed innocuous.
The power building behind it wasn’t.
His lips curled upward in the barest of smiles, but his words were anything but warm. “You’re under the mistaken impression, Princess Thalia, that this was an invitation.”
Her emerald eyes rounded at the implication, and before she could move her gun one fraction of an inch, Bastien hit her with a spell. “And now… you shall remember.”
CHAPTER 5
Thalia
My body freezes in place, but I don’t feel unbalanced or like I might fall backward with the pull of gravity. I can’t move a single muscle and I try to stave off the panic. Can I breathe? Am I suffocating?
I inhale deeply but can’t register my lungs or chest moving. Regardless, I feel the oxygen and blow it out through my nose in relief.
I try to glare at Bastien, who still has his palm facing me, but my face doesn’t twitch to show my anger.
But wait… my eyes can move, and they slide over to Kieran, watching warily.
Bastien moves to stand on the other side of the coffee table, directly opposite me. “I’m going to channel some of my magic into you. It won’t hurt. I just want you to keep your mind open and don’t fight the integration. You will feel the memories come back.”
I’m not ready for this. Not ready for my life to change. I don’t want these memories because I have a million more questions first.
Bastien stares into my eyes, and I try to convey something with them.
Please… don’t do this to me.
“I’m sorry, but we have to.” His tone sounds regretful, his expression determined. “It won’t take long. You won’t be reliving each memory. It will flood back, and you may have certain memories that stand out, but eventually, you’ll have a sudden awareness of everything you used to know.”
I’m furious he’s doing this without my permission and I feel violated. I’m terrified my life might be changing for the worse.
“Relax,” Bastien orders, and surely he has to know how ludicrous that sounds.
I glance back at Kieran who nods at me with encouragement. He seems the easygoing brother who I actually kind of liked, but I’m angry with him, too, for letting this happen.
And then… it hits me.
Like a raging tidal wave, my entire life rushes back. It consumes me. Much like being hit by a wall of water, the wind is knocked out of me, and then I’m spinning downward. Everything goes dark, and I struggle to breathe.
I’m drowning.
Oh, God… I’m drowning.
I want to claw at my throat to open it up, panic rising within me.
“Focus,” a voice says.
Deep, baritone… Bastien.
Rage boils my blood and gives me strength to push back at the enveloping darkness. As if rising from the ocean depths, I break the surface and suck in a huge gulp of air.
And then memories assault me, one after another.
Brief recollections at first, flashing through my mind.
Fishing with my father. Dropping a doll in the mud and crying. Learning how to ride my first horse. Eating dinner with my parents. Attending a dance at their palace.
General awareness comes next. Five seconds ago, I knew nothing about the real Jaron and Selena Clairmont. But now, with every fiber of my being, I instinctively know my parents were kind, loving, and generous people. They absolutely doted on me, their only child, and I thought the sun rose and set on their shoulders.
I had a wonderful life in Kestevayne. I was loved by the citizens, and I, in turn, loved them. I cherished my role as the people’s princess. I was honored I would one day rule my land, and I hoped to do it with as much love and integrity as my parents had.
And I remember… they’re dead.
Deep, agonizing grief hits me. I hadn’t had enough time to mourn their loss after it happened, and the wound is flayed open again. I can’t feel much of my body, but warm tears slide free and tickle my cheeks.
I don’t have time to get lost in grief as more enlightenment overwhelms me.
There’s sudden knowledge that… I know magic, and I know it well. Sovereign families have deep magic tied to their lineage. While not my only magical ability, my most cherished magic centered around healing. I took great pleasure in ministering to the poor and sick. My mother taught me most of what I know about healing potions and remedies.