The Art of Blood and Power (Book 2 in The Gifted Trilogy)

30- The Letter

My dearest Wren,

I don't know when you'll be reading this or even if I will be around when you eventually do. I'd like to believe that I'll still be in your life, but this world has a tendency to make us choose between protecting the ones we love and being with them. In my case, I would choose the former. This isn't to say that I don't feel a sharp pain in my chest at even the thought of leaving you, I just know that I would do anything within my power to keep you from having the life I did.

    It turns out that even with the power that runs through my veins- through both of our veins- I can't stop the wickedness that seems all but ingrained in the Shadow Court. My father is a man who sticks to traditions. He believes our family should constantly be viewed as a formidable force in order to maintain our position. He believes the smallest of weaknesses expressed by his family will lead to a coup d'etat from one of the influential noble families, ending our bloodline. Over the years, this mindset has slowly driven him to madness. I've learned how to behave in his presence but I can still see his patterns of abuse in his interactions with my half-brother Nox. The boy is barely four years old and I'm already fearing the person my father is molding him into. I often wonder how I managed to avoid turning into another version of him; a heartless, calculating, and distrusting man. The only answer I've been able to come up with was Caster. Your father saved me, Wren.

    And I don't mean that in a damsel in distress sort of way. When I met Caster, he was mainly skin and bones and I feared a gust of wind might blow him over. I assume that's why I first began to relax around him, because for the first time in my life, I didn't fear a man in close proximity to me. How could I, when he repeatedly asked me questions about myself? Not my family. Not my inevitable ascension to the throne. Questions about my preferences and opinions. The first time he asked me what my favorite color was, I nearly fell out of my chair. I had complained about how drab the black gown would appear in his painting and he had said he would paint my dress whichever color I wanted. It might seem like the smallest of gestures, but I truly believe his sincerity saved me.

    Kindness doesn't last for long in the Shadow Court, yet somehow every painting session seemed to revive that brightness that I knew was still there deep inside me, buried through years of uncompromising discipline and threats. To put it simply, I fell head over heels in love with that man. Everything, from his easy smile, to his terrible jokes, to his messy artist fingers stoked a fire inside of me. I wanted him close to me more than I'd ever wanted anything in my life. This desire was tamed only slightly through my guilt towards my fiance Cicero, who had been my friend for as long as I can remember. He had a gentle soul, but like me the Shadow Court had molded him into a man I didn't recognize. A stony, humorless shell of the boy who once climbed trees with me.

    I say all of this to reassure you that, though I was not expecting you to come into my life, you are undoubtedly the best thing that has ever happened to me. I knew that from the moment I first held you in my arms. You came into the world screaming and crying and I knew in that moment you were a fighter. I wish I could find the words to express the joy you brought me, but there are none. I had been going through the motions my entire life, but suddenly I found something so purely good that the thought of something bad ever happening to you terrified me to the point that my shadows would form at the first sound of your cries. I was so ready to protect you, but in order to do that, I had one last thing I had to do.

    The last thing I did before leaving the Shadow Court for the small island off of our coast with Caster was request a private meeting with my father. Him along with everyone else believed my departure was due to a threat on my life. I used this to my advantage, utilizing every skill my father had ever taught me about deceit to convince him that the ancestral crown was not safe in the castle.