His staring is starting to make me a little uncomfortable, but I straighten my shoulders and try to assume the appearance of a woman in charge.
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sandale. Your people informed me that you had a pressing issue to discuss with me. Well, here I am.”
He tilts his head, a small smile forming on his lips. “‘Pressing’ might have been an overstatement. But I thought the sooner you knew, the better.”
“Knew what?” I ask, confused by the expectant look on his face.
“I’ll just come out and say it, Princess Morgana. I happen to be your brother.”
I don’t think I’ve heard him right at first, until I register the reactions of my friends. Stratton coughs in surprise, and Phaia inhales sharply. I look up at Leon, who’s staring so intensely at Harman I’m surprised he hasn’t given himself a migraine. A rushing noise fills my ears, and I feel strangely disconnected from the rest of my body.
“That can’t be…that’s not possible,” I stutter out.
“Half brother, I should say,” Harman clarifies. “Alaric was my father too.”
“So you’ve no claim to the throne,” Leon jumps in. “Morgana’s mother was the one with the royal blood.”
“Of course. Nor would I want it if I did,” Harman says, vaguely amused at Leon’s suspicion. He straightens. “I’m a bastard. I barely even have a claim to nobility, let alone royalty. I certainly don’t have any designs on my sister’s crown.”
I’m not thinking through the implications of this like Leon is. I’m barely thinking at all. My mind is spinning too fast to settle on any one thought.
Brother. Bastard. Sister.
Could I really be someone’s sister?
I take Harman’s age into account, doing some mental calculations.
“So you’re saying my—our—father had an affair?” I ask.
Harman makes a face. “I’m sorry if that’s difficult to accept?—”
“It’s not,” I say. “I didn’t know the man. Why should I be surprised to find out he was unfaithful?”
I watch Harman’s face carefully for some kind of judgment, but he just nods, understanding my practical outlook.
“Who was your mother?” I ask.
“Lady Phryne Sandale,” Harman says. “She was a political activist. She died two years ago of sickness, but before that, she was a big campaigner for religious liberty. She didn’t like the Temple and neither did my father. You could say they bonded over a shared worldview.”
“From what I’ve heard, my mother didn’t like the Temple either,” I say, trying to find the cracks in his story. I don’t know what to believe, and I worry the wild hope rearing up in me is clouding my judgment. Can I rely on the instinct telling me to trust this man?
“True. But she was also the queen. It seems she thought that demanded certain compromises. Since the war, the Angevires have chosen diplomacy over direct opposition where the Ethirans are concerned. Queen Elowen was no exception. My mother was less concerned about offending the Temple. Therewere even some who would say she was trying to incite rebellion.”
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree then,” Leon grunts.
“It fell a way off,” Harman says, failing to be offended by Leon’s accusations. “My mother was still a member of high society. Not a dirty dissident like me.”
Having a noblewoman for his mother would certainly explain some things about Harman. He holds himself gracefully, like any of the fae or human lords I’ve seen at court, and his accent is polished, even if he drops a letter here and there.
“Did he know about you?” I ask. “Alaric, I mean.”
“The affair ended when my mother became pregnant, but yes, she told him.” Harman runs a hand through his brown hair, and now, of course, I think I see the resemblance to Alaric’s—and perhaps my own. I catch a strand of my locks in my fingers, examining the color for comparison.
“Did he write to you?” I ask, Will’s story about the letters coming back to me.
“Yes,” Harman says, his eyebrows rising a little. “We only met once or twice, when I was still young, but we stayed in contact, and he supported me on and off over the years. More off in the last decade. He didn’t approve of my politics becoming so ‘extreme,’ as he put it,” Harman looks unimpressed by the word. “As if the Temple would respond to anything else. And once I became leader of the Hand, he tried harder to convince me to stop. Through his letters as well as…other means. But there was only so much he could do without the queen finding out, I suppose.”
A flash of bitterness crosses Harman’s face, then it’s gone as he turns his attention back to me.
