His eyes widen a fraction, and that tells me all I need to know.
“They didn’t tell you?” I ask.
He sighs, looking tired. “No, they didn’t tell me, but it was one of my theories. Etusca was always cagey about your illness, and I thought perhaps…” He shrugs. “Whatever the reason, I thought what they were doing to you was wrong. Who gives a shit what nonsense the Temple spouts about the gods and their magic?”
I smile. Will has a soldier’s love of coarse language, but he always tried to curb it around me. Obviously, now he’s no longer my guard, he’s less concerned about setting a good example.
“Good to know where you stand,” I say.
“In your corner. Always.” Will smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He pushes himself up using the table. “Right, who wants some tea?” he asks.
Fifteen minutes and five cups of steaming tea later—Leon politely declined his, and the rest of the fae have to share due to shortage of cups—it’s time to tell Will the truth.
“I didn’t kill my parents, Will,” I say. “But I assume you’d already worked that out.”
“Was it that fae prince they talked about?” he asks, and I notice the way his eyes flick to the soldiers. Will was always sharp.
“No,” I say. “It was my aunt. She had them assassinated so she could take the throne—and then she framed the fae prince so no one would suspect her.”
“Yes, I thought it might be something like that,” he says, calmly taking a sip of his tea.
“And also, everyone in this room except for you, me, and Tira is fae,” I say in the same tone. The soldiers stiffen around me, but Will just takes another sip of his tea.
“Yes, I thought they might be,” he says mildly. “The dog too?”
“Agathyrian, actually,” I say. “It has four tails when it’s not glamoured.”
Will nods like this makes perfect sense. After a pause, he sighs.
“I’m sorry that you never got to meet them,” he says, and I know at once who he’s talking about.
“Did you know them, when you worked at the palace?” I ask, unable to keep the hopeful note from my voice.
“I was in their personal guard for a time. It’s why they trusted me to take the post.”
“So they cared enough to choose someone they knew, but not enough to visit me,” I say, trying not to sound bitter.
“That was your mother’s decision. I think she thought it would be easier. She was like that, sometimes. Practical overeverything. She was a great ruler, but she felt that being queen meant she had to put the softer parts of herself away. She used to say sentimentality was the ultimate luxury—and that it was one she couldn’t afford. Your father didn’t like being away from you, but I could tell he was afraid for you and believed you’d be safer as long as you remained as hidden as possible. And then later in their marriage…” Will pauses, as if he’s worried he’s said too much.
“They’re dead Will, you can hardly be indiscreet about them now,” I push.
He swallows and nods.
“Later in their marriage, Alaric seemed to be more willing to give in to Elowen over things. He put up less of a fight. He’d still write to me though. I don’t think she knew, but he’d send a letter every couple of months to ask how you were. Not just if you were safe, but…little things. He wished to know what foods you liked, which games you enjoyed. What made you laugh.”
I look down into my tea, tears pricking my eyes. I sense Leon shift by the door, wanting to reach for me, I think. I quickly clear my throat and straighten.
“Thank you for telling me that, Will. The thing is, we didn’t come here to reminisce about my parents. What we really want to know is about anyone you might be in contact with who still works at the palace. Do you think?—”
But before I can finish my sentence, Hyllus abruptly stands, the soldiers turning to him.
“Movement outside,” he says. “Ten humans, and they’re armed.”
Leon
As soon as Hyllus stands, I’m immediately on the alert. We’re a long way from home and technically in enemy territory. There’s no way I’m getting complacent.
“Movement outside,” he says. “Ten humans, and they’re armed.”
