“Is your name even Jaime?!”
“Yes, it’s Jaime.”
“I don’t know if I can believe that either. You lied to me.”
“You left out a lot and twisted shit at first,” Jaime snapped in a low voice. “You lied to protect yourself, and that’s why I lied too. You’re not the only one whose life has been on the line, and I had to keep my story straight from the age ofseven. You wouldn’t have said anything either if it had been you. I’ve never told anyone, and I had no idea I’d be marrying you, or that you’d get pregnant when I came here. I was going to tell you.”
He caught movement out the corner of his eye and noticed a few courtiers staring from the entrance of the Hall.
“Your brother’s gone mad,” said one.
Lord Monet yelled at Zacharie to shut his damn mouth from behind them, and Jaime turned to Aleric to hiss at him. “Please. I’ll show you my last name. This was my Father’s sword.”
“Fine.” Aleric turned to rush upstairs.
“M’lord,” called a man. “Calm your brother-”
“He’s not my responsibility!” Aleric shouted down.
Jaime hastily followed him, and the voices faded the higher they went.
Aleric stopped a few floors down from his. “Show me. Now.”
“Not out here on the damn stairs.”
“Show me your fucking hilt. Or is that a lie too?”
“How the fuck do I know if anyone here was a part of that night? I doubt it, but I’m not taking stupid chances and bandying my last name about.”
Aleric narrowed his eyes and continued. “That leather better be off when we get to my room. If you’re lying, I’ll have you thrown out.”
Jaime shouldn’t have waited to tell him. He bit back a swear and unsheathed his sword as they made their way down the hallway. Aleric’s sword hand twitched like he wanted to draw his weapon, and his posture was one of a man who expects to be attacked.
Jaime hastily started unwrapping the leather strips, and he had the first off when they entered Aleric’s room.
Aleric locked the door and turned to him. “Show me.”
“It’s almost off.” Jaime undid the second strip and held the sword out so Aleric could see the inscription. “It’s not Gautier. This was my Father’s sword. Your little brother’s a fucking idiot who pulled a wild accusation out of his ass.”
Aleric stared at the curly letters set in the pristine, silver handle that hadn’t seen the light of day in years. Jaime had often been tempted to unwrap the leather and see his Father’s name, knowing he’d probably never hear or see it anywhere else again.
“Scaliger-they're all dead,” said Aleric. “None survived, and a good deal of the bodies were burned.”
“I know how everyone died and what happened,” Jaime said curtly. “I didn’t steal this either if that’s what you’re thinking. I’ve had it since I was seven, and Jaime is my real name. I went by Theo for a time until I moved on. I decided to go by Jaimebecause it’s common enough, and it’s the only thing I have from Mother. I’m not a secret baby of Gautier’s or whatever Zacharie’s implying. Maybe Gautier told him to say that to stir up shit or-I don’t know, but it’s fucking sick.”
Aleric’s dark blue eyes weren’t so cold when they returned to Jaime’s sword. “They said the son was dead too. They found little bones in-in the pile they burned, and only a few were left inside. I was young when I heard about it. I didn’t understand it, and I learned about it a little later. It was supposed to be revenge.”
“I lived.”
“How did you survive?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The party was to celebrate a new marriage, and Jaime was already bored. They’d eaten, the courtiers were dancing, and he’d gotten a sweet from Mother’s parents, Mémé and Nonno. Like Grandma and Grandpa, Father’s parents, they’d gone to dance in the Hall. If Jaime went to ask the only child his age there, Mary, she’d try to kiss his cheek, and he didn’t like her that much.
His Aunts, Uncles, and cousins were scattered in the Hall or dancing. Jaime was supposed to sit quietly and not run about.
Mother said the marzipan wouldn’t be brought yet, and when it was, it’d be shaped like the bride and groom who had a large table in the Hall for themselves and their immediate family. The bride had a white dress with silvery trim that matched her husband’s clothes.
