“Okay.” She darts forward conspiratorily like she doesn’t want to be overheard, even though there’s no one around. “Last year, Sitri’s mother killed his father, and she was executed for it.”
My mouth pops open. I close it and open it again. “Last year? I assumed his parents died a long time ago…”
She shakes her head sadly.
“And his sister?”
“No one knows. She just vanished. Almost six months ago now. It’s so strange. It’s as if no one ever cares to find out what happened to her,” she trails off, eyes going glassy.
“She was your friend?”
“She was my best friend.”
“Well, what does Sitri think happened to her?” Vera gives me a guarded look. “Haven’t you talked to him about it?”
“Pandora, you don’t understand. When you guys walked in here last week, that was the first time I’ve seen Sitri since before…since before his parents died. Besides from a distance at events and such. But on those occasions, he’s always with—“ She lowers her voice. “Morin.”
“Why?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. Before, I saw him frequently. Several times a week, he would be in this kitchen with me and Imen. I mean—I spent every holiday with them. They were family. Before everything happened. When you guys came walking in here last week, I was stunned. I could hardly believe it. I hadn’t seen him in so long… But I was so scared that if I said the wrong thing, I might run him off again. I’m still scared of that.”
She grimaces and stares off, chewing at her lip. “I really probably shouldn’t be telling you all of this. I don’t want to say anything to sour you against him.”
“Is he that bad?” I whisper.
She shakes her head. “He didn’t used to be bad at all,” She pauses as if reconsidering. “Or that bad, at least. But I don’t know anymore. People say things...”
“What do they say?” I whisper. She’s quiet for a long moment in an internal debate. “Don’t I deserve to know?”
She heaves a sigh before pouring herself another glass of wine. “I don’t think he’s bad, Pandora, but I think she has a hold over him somehow.”
“Morin?”
She nods gravely. “As a teenager, Sitri was always dabbling in magic he had no business dealing in. It was a constant point of contention between Sitri and Rhiannon.” The corner of her mouth quirks. “They were always going head to head about it.”
“What was he doing?”
She shrugs. “Blood magic, necromancy, summoning—magic that’s been illegal for centuries.” She snorts. “But they were hardly going to throw him in prison for it when he was the son of the king.”
I make a note to look those up in the grimoire later.
“Who knows? Maybe some of that knowledge is how he was able to save you…but outside of that, Sitri was always good. He never treated me any differently. He treated me like family. They all did.”
Like family?“But didn’t you two…”
Her brows crumple. “We what?”
“Didn’t you two… you know…have something at one point?”
Her eyes widen. “Like…you mean—date?”
“Yeah.”
Her face goes from bewildered to aghast.
Of course, she wouldn’t want to admit it to me. “It’s okay,” I interject. “I won’t be upset or anything if you...like him or anything.”
“Sitri?” she asks incredulously. “Me and Sitri? Gods, no.”
