The anger in her voice surprised me as she pushed the mounds of paper to the side and gestured for me to sit. “I thought you’d be fast asleep by now,” she said, “or dreaming.”
The waggle of her brows had me blushing. “I was reading this.” I held up the book. “And I need Jacques.”
Cara tilted her head. “Why don’t you try me?”
So I told her, first about the dream, then I opened the book and showed her the crest and the princess’s picture.
When I finished, she remained silent, staring at the image. I couldn’t get a good read on her energy.
“I thought Jacques might know more details of just what happened,” I said. “Why did I dream of this princess? And so clearly that I saw the crest. And the date in that article...” I hesitated. There couldn’t be a link, but I finally spat out the final bit. “The date she died—it’s my birthday.”
Her blue gaze met mine. “And you saw the maze. There’s one at their primary palace. I have seen it.” Her fingers tapped against the table. “The Satyr royal family no longer rules their people—they are only figureheads now. Their main function is diplomacy.” She shook her head. “But even if the baby had lived—and it says here that it didn’t—you can’t be part Satyr. They are not fertile with other species. A good thing too. Or Jacques would be leaving little carbon copies everywhere.”
If they couldn’t breed with humans, then I couldn’t have Satyr blood. I didn’t know how to feel about that. My past was such a mystery, and it was one I wanted solved. At least, I thought I did.
She walked to the counter and poured us tea. “It’s a little weak, but I think we both need it right away.”
I sipped at mine as she sat down. At least with her drinking it, too, it wasn’t likely to be a sleeping draught.
“I have connections with the Satyr royals,” she said. “Can you leave this with me for now? I promise I will look into it.”
I sighed as any thoughts of immediate answers fled. “Are you sure Satyrs are infertile with humans?”
She nodded. “Yes. There has never been a case of a human and Satyr hybrid. And it wouldn’t explain your energy manipulation abilities either. Satyrs cannot do that.”
So much for my theories about being a princess. “Am I part Liberi, then?” I asked.
Cara’s lips pursed. “It’s a theory. Although the Bellatis haven’t been loose on the realms for over a thousand years. And the thought that a Watcher could give birth to a child, and not take responsibility for it—” she grimaced. “We are trained from a young age to value life. It is hard to fathom that one of my kind could do such a thing.”
Well, that wasn’t exactly a no, but it also didn’t seem too likely. “Why would the Watchers be after my family?”
Her fingers tapped on the table. “We don’t know yet, that they were.”
My frustration mounted. “I sensed that we were being chased. My mother—or the woman I thought was my mother—was afraid of the Watcher riding the Gryphon.”
“They might have been there to help you,” she pointed out. “Maybe it wasn’t the Watchers your mother feared.”
I hadn’t thought of that. “But why would anyone be after us?”
She shook her head. “We will find those answers, Anna. But for now, let’s just try to keep an open mind, okay?”
It was hard when I was pretty sure Cara knew things that she wasn’t telling me. But I trusted her.
A yawn came at me out of nowhere. Suddenly, I was so tired I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I peered suspiciously at the tea and left the last few gulps in the cup. Which was when I noticed that she hadn’t drunk hers.
Dammit. Tricked again. I wobbled as I stood. “I think I will try to get some sleep.”
“That was a herbal concoction.” She confirmed my suspicions with a smile. “You shouldn’t require any pills to help you rest.”
I really needed to have that discussion with her about boundaries, even if her actions were well-intentioned. But I merely nodded and let her escort me to the door.
“Your young Dire is waiting for you,” she said. “Resistance is all you have, for now.”
I nodded and left her at the door.
Matt stood at the stairwell. His eyes were alight, almost feverish, his hair tousled by a combination of running and, no doubt, scrubbing his fingers through it. He greeted me with a lopsided smile, and my heart flipped right over.
“I’m ready to hit the hay,” he said.
