The tale of Aurelia Hawthorne is anything but simple. Faced with the horrors and reality of living in a nation that hides secrets and punishes children for the sins of their parents, she is forced to make difficult choices.
Especially ones that str...
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"Knowing I am in direct disagreement with General Melgren's orders, I am officially objecting to the plan set forth in today's briefing. It is not this general's opinion that the children of the rebellion's leaders should be forced to witness their parents' executions. No child should watch their parent put to death."
—The Tyrrish Rebellion, an official brief forKing Tauri by General Lilith Sorrengail
This was only the beginning. As soon as word had broken out about the end of the rebellion, pandemonium had broken out at once. The children of the rebellion were yanked to their feet by leadership officers, forced to exit the catacombs in an orderly fashion.
Stripped of their weapons.
Forced to stand before them. Broken, bruised, and many younger ones crying. Sloane clutched onto Liam's side, burying her face in his shoulder as he hung on tight. He was spotting a sharp scar down his face, courtesy of a rather incessant officer who had tried to rip the two of them apart.
Coronel Hawthorne stood to the side, his hand on Aurelia's arm as she watched the rest of the children be violated for something that wasn't their fault.
If it was anyone's, it was hers.
Aurelia didn't dare catch Xaden's eye. He was under the most scrutiny, forced to kneel on the ground with his hands behind his head. Three Navarrian officers stood around him, eyes blazing with fury.
Aurelia grinned when she saw Xaden hold his head up in defiance.
This was bullshit.
She didn't understand why her father had pulled her aside. Why he was still alive if leadership had found out about his role in everything?
How was Aurelia still alive if she had kept information about the rebellion to herself instead of bringing it directly to leadership?
She shivered under the cool chill, the sounds of war forgone and instead, replaced with the cold feeling of the unknown. The dagger in her jacket felt warm and comforting, but she didn't dare reach for it for fear they'd confiscate or even stab her through with it.
"Father," She whispered, turning to the man whose grip was iron-steel. "What's going on?"
The same words she'd uttered mere months ago.
Coronel Hawthorne was grim, unmoving. Aurelia knew he was still grieving the loss of his son. Acrux was dead...gone. She had not cried; not yet. She needed to be strong for her father. She couldn't break.
Instead, she locked all memories of her brother in a locked box, shoving the key far down the mindscape of her head.
"I made a deal," He confessed, leaning down and cupping his daughter's face in his hands. He wiped away the grime, stroking her hair gently. "Our part in the rebellion was minuscule—Riorson made that clear to leadership when he tried to kill me—"
