Songs of Stone: Great-Aunt Carin

Since Songs of Stone is going back to Castia, I wanted to give you all a sneak peek of a familiar face that I’m so excited you all will get to see again! It’s been a few decades since Shoes of Red where we saw her last, but here is Great-Aunt Carin!

“Here we are,” Valens said, reaching for the double doors and pushing them open with a slight flair. Liliana hurried into the library after him, quickly scanning the large space and towering redwood bookshelves that filled the first floor and the small, spiral stairs that led to the second.

“It’s beautiful. I should have known it would be since you and Dione brought those beautiful bookshelves. Of course your own library would be nothing less than exquisite.” Liliana grinned as she turned on her heel.

“It’s hardly the royal family’s library anymore. Great-Aunt Carin is the one who’s responsible for its growth and care for the last—”

An older, weathered feminine voice cut him off as the tapping of a cane sounded on the dark, polished floors. “Dear boy, you’ll give away my age if you finish that thought, and you know how rude it is to reveal a lady’s age.”

Great-Aunt Carin emerged from the stacks with Amias trailing behind her pushing an empty cart.

The older woman was bent over slightly, and there was a subtle limp in her left leg as she walked, even with the cane. Her dark red dress was exquisitely made, and the quality of fabric and skill of the dressmaker shone through. Her white and gray hair was pulled into an elegant, mature bun with no adornments, but a few loose curls hung to frame her face. While she hadn’t escaped wrinkles completely, they were subtle in comparison to the members of the court her age. The peace of the library compared to the stress of the court.

“Of course.” Valens grinned. He stepped forward when Great-Aunt Carin held out an arm and gave her a quick hug. “She’s only been in charge of the library for… a year now. And Amias is her… younger brother.”

Amias shook his head as Liliana blinked and furrowed her brow, but Valens was rewarded with a deep laugh from Great-Aunt Carin as she clapped him on his shoulder. “That’s my boy. You always were my favorite.”

Valens flashed Amias a smug look. “Told you I was her favorite.”

“Ah!” Great-Aunt Carin’s cane knocked into his shin. “You’re my favorite great-nephew. Amias is my favorite grandson.”

“I’m your only grandson; I have to be your favorite,” Amias said.

“Eh, I’m the only sister my brothers have, but I don’t think I’m everyone’s favorite,” Liliana said.

“Not true,” Valens said, pointing at Liliana. “Your brothers adore you. Me, on the other hand, I’m Hadrian’s only brother, but I’m certainly not his favorite.”

“All this worrying about who’s the favorite, you have your whole lives ahead of you to be someone’s favorite, someone’s least favorite, and all over again several dozen times.” Great-Aunt Carin waved her hand. Her eyes landed on Princess Liliana, and they brightened. “Now, you must be the lovely Idresian princess I’ve been hearing so much about.”

Amias’ cheeks turned bright red.

Liliana dipped into a respectful curtsy. “Princess Liliana, Your Grace.”

“Your Grace?” Great-Aunt Carin smiled and rested her hands on her cane. “That’s quite an honor. I like it far better than what most people call me.”

Valens saw where this went in an instant and tried to signal to Liliana not to ask, but she wasn’t looking his way at all.

Liliana furrowed her brow. “What do most people call you?”

“Any number of things, most of them including the word ‘criminal.’ ‘Florian’s pet criminal’ is one of my favorites, I think—Florian’s my husband. I got that one a lot more in my youth. Now that Florian is retired and absent from court and country matters entirely, it’s far less common. ‘Jailbird’ is another, which really isn’t accurate, but I suppose it’s better than ‘criminal.’ ‘Fraud’ is far more accurate, but no one calls me that who wasn’t there for my trial.” Great-Aunt Carin laughed at Liliana’s wide-eyed, owlish expression. “Don’t worry, my family is far too polite to call me any of those or tell anyone about it. Well, except for young Hadrian, whom I imagine is torn between not wanting anyone to know about me and wanting to express his disapproval.”

“Hadrian disapproves of everything,” Amias said, putting his hand on his grandmother’s shoulder.

Great-Aunt Carin patted his hand and grinned. “I don’t take it personally, and despite my wishes and Valens’ flattery, I’m far too old to waste my time being ashamed of the truth or bother trying to hide it.”

Liliana caught Valens’ gaze and gave him an approving nod. He’d had a hunch the two would get along.

“Now, that’s enough about me.” Great-Aunt Carin turned back to Valens. “I know you well enough to know you when you’re here against your wishes. What are you in search of today?”

“I love visiting you and Amias,” Valens protested.

“Yes, yes, of course, we’re delightful, but I know you’d rather be out anywhere but here.” Great-Aunt Carin waved her hand. “So, what are you here for?”

“Magic,” Valens said, lifting his packet of notes. “I’ve gotten saddled with a hand-me-down problem of Hadrian’s, and he thinks magic might be involved.”

“Magic?” Great-Aunt Carin raised an eyebrow and offered her arm. “Well, I suppose we might have something on magic.” Valens took it as Great-Aunt Carin looked over her shoulder at Liliana and asked, “And what about you?”

“Agriculture.”

“Agriculture? You come to visit Castia, to visit the greatest library on the continent—don’t you dare snicker, Valens, you’re not too old for me to tell your parents you came to this library and antagonized me—the greatest library on the continent, passed down for generations and painstakingly curated, filled with the works of the greatest poets and novelists and historians, and you ask about agriculture. Hmm, fine, if you want agriculture, I’ll give you agriculture.” Great-Aunt Carin gestured wildly with one hand, and if Valens didn’t know any better, her offended tone would have gotten him, but the spark in her eyes gave her away. She huffed and rolled her eyes, waving her hand dismissively. “Amias, dear, if you’ll take her to the agriculture section.”

“Of course.” Amias slowly offered his arm to Liliana, his cheeks still a flushed pink. Liliana took Amias’ arm as he whispered, “She’s joking. Mostly.”