“I’ll think about it if you actually answer my next question.”
“If it’s going to be about where—“
“Not that. I was wondering…why do they call you Nightshade?”
He groans. “I thought you already heard about this one.”
I snort. “Yeah, I hear so much being stuck in your chambers day after day.”
“Assumed you overheard the Masks talking about it,” he mutters. I shake my head. “My Mother was common born. Meaning, she wasn’t a Scion. My father married a common-born, someone that couldn’t even trace back which God she descended from.” He pauses, dropping his voice even lower. “They’re fond of saying that she swindled my father into marrying her by using a love potion on him. Nightshade is the most common ingredient in those types of potions. Hence the name.”
Nightshade Prince.
I don’t know what I was expecting but it’s definitely not that.
“It’s not exactly my favorite title,” he gruffs.
I’m silent for a few too many beats.
“You’re surprised,” he guesses.
“I didn’t realize…”I trail off.
“Didn’t realize I wasn’t exactly in favor long before you got here?”
Exactly.“But she didn’t…”
“No, of course not. That’s what’s so stupid about the whole thing.” His voice carries a bottled-up irritation I can tell he’s been holding for years as his hands flex against the reins. “Anyone who knows the most rudimentary potion-making knows love potions aren’t even really that effective. They’re short-acting. The most potent of potions would last hours at most. So, if you were really trying to swindle someone into falling in love with you, you’d have to dose them over and over again. With how complex the potions are the probability-- It would be insane to pull off, is what I’m saying. But somehow, it doesn’t seem to stop them from believing it.”
“Why do they believe it, then?”
“They believe it because…my father’s line—my line,” he corrects. “Is very strong. Or was, at least, before. One of the strongest aside from the Gorgons. Magi respect power above all else, and when my father turned his back on the Scions to take a common-born wife, they took great offense to that.”
“So why did he do it?”
He lets out a bitter snort. “Love, I guess.”
My brows crumple. “Is that so…wrong?”
“No, there’s nothing wrong with that,” he says hastily. “It’s just hard to imagine that was the case toward the end. Or ever… It seems much more likely my father had a penchant for rebelling against authority, probably and a thing for young, pretty, charming women, and my mother was all of those things and…” he trails off.
“And what?”
“And probably he wanted someone that was beneath him,” he says, voice low and sorrowful.
“Why?”
“So he could feel powerful, I assume.”
“It bothered you? Having a common-born mother?”
“No. I loved my mother. It only bothered me she was never fully accepted. I never intended to put anyone in the position she was in, yet here we are…”
“What hap—“
“I’ve answered a lot of your questions, pet,” he says voice lilted. “Your birthday?”
I sigh. “It’s October 11th.”
