Read Heritage: Book Three of the Grimoire Saga for Free Online Page A

knuckles on the door. His knocks echoed in the vast chamber. The sobs stopped. A woman sniffled. The shoes slipped out of view, so Braeden pushed the door open. His breath caught in his chest.
    Evelyn lay on the stones, her knees tucked underneath her with that blue dress spilling out across the floor. Her classic Ayavelian skin reflected blue and green specks of light as sunlight hit her through the windows. Straight hair framed her face, its white glow accentuating her almond eyes as she stared at him. Ayavelians had three pupils in both eyes, each of which could convey a different emotion. But now, Evelyn stared at him with only a deep-rooted sorrow. His throat tightened.
    Before her, the statue of a woman towered halfway to the arched ceiling above. Her white marble face glistened as she stared through the skylights, her eyes nothing but a solid sheet with no detail.
    Evelyn wiped her own eyes with a sleeve. “You’re back early.”
    “What’s wrong, Evelyn?”
    Her lip trembled. Her eyebrows arched upward. A dimple appeared in her cheek, as if she bit it to keep herself from crying.
    “Aunt Aislynn’s dead,” she said.
    Braeden’s shoulders sagged. The air left him in a rush, and for a moment, he couldn’t think. The last time he saw Aislynn, he nearly attacked the queen for trapping Kara and using her as bait to catch a muse in some half-brewed plan, nearly killing everyone involved. He hadn’t given Aislynn the time of day to explain herself and refused to even look her in the eye after he discovered what she’d done.
    But...dead?
    When he was a boy, Aislynn saved his life. She took him to Hillside and gave him a second chance at life. She even stood up for him in this very throne room when the other Bloods sentenced him to death. Had he been too unforgiving to someone who helped him so much in life?
    He knelt next to Evelyn and sat on his heels, shoulders hunched. Only then did he notice a plaque below the statue’s feet: Aislynn, last full Blood of Ayavel.
    “Is this her memorial?” Braeden asked.
    Evelyn nodded.
    “What do you mean by ‘last full’—”
    “I wasn’t given the bloodline naturally, and I am therefore not a full Blood. She’s the last of her bloodline. I’m a forgery.”
    Braeden’s jaw tensed. He didn’t know what to say.
    They sat in silence for a while. He watched her from the corner of his eye, never looking at her directly. Her hair fell around her, hiding her face. Streaks of dried tears crusted along her cheeks, dulling her skin’s reflective nature.
    After a second, he cleared his throat. “I thought memorials weren’t supposed to go in the throne room. In Hillside, we have a park for Bloods’ memorial statues.”
    A pang of regret tore through him. Braeden couldn’t say he was a part of Hillside anymore. Gavin disowned him and took his key to the kingdom when Braeden’s Stelian ancestry was discovered. Even though he’d spent twelve years in Hillside and grown up with Gavin as a brother, he was no longer a part of the Hillsidian world.
    Evelyn frowned, snapping him from his thoughts. “It’s my kingdom, Stelian. If I want to honor my aunt’s memory in the throne room, I have every right to do it!”
    Braeden tensed as he was reminded of one of the many reasons he disliked this girl, but he took a deep breath. She was obviously grieving. He needed to be forgiving and patient.
    “I meant no offense, Evelyn. I was merely curious.”
    She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Braeden. I’m just—I—”
    He caught her eye. “You’re hurting. It’s okay.”
    Her lip trembled again. “Why would she leave me? I’m not ready for this, Braeden. Being awoken as the Blood—it hurt so much. I couldn’t walk for nearly a day afterward. I can sense the moods of my people. I can actually control them, make them do things they don’t want to do. I can command them, and they have to obey. I don’t want so much power!”
    Braeden wanted to inform her it was far too