Chapter 7
"Your mother is right, though," Bence told Lyv as they walked arm in arm toward his office. "You could have sent a raven."
She scowled, looking down at the ornate carpeting, her boots scuffing across them. "I know. I didn't think about it, though. Where I ended up staying didn't exactly have access to ravens either."
"I thought I taught you to anticipate and plan for overnight trips. And don't stay in places you know little of."
"I was caught off guard."
"Are you telling me everything that actually happened?"
No.
"That will be a no."
Lyv glanced over at him. "All right, I went to the tavern in that town I told you about last year and got hit on by a drunk. I might have threatened to cut his hand off if he touched me again. Let's just say he was smart and still has his hand."
At that, the king let out a bolstering laugh, which made the palace staff in the hallway look their way as they passed.
"And I met a new friend who helped me out after I got lost. He gave me shelter and someone to talk to, but I swear to you nothing happened." She had to add that last part when he looked over at her with concern. "He escorted me to the city this morning where we said goodbye and parted ways. I probably won't see them again."
"Them?"
"He had a friend. I'm pretty sure he didn't like me much. I can say I felt the same about him."
"There's something you're leaving out, isn't there?"
Lyv shook her head, looking down at her boots again as they continued walking. "No. It was just...nice to be myself around someone who didn't know who I actually was. Why do you think I go off riding on my own? Not that I don't like our trips together, but a king does draw a lot attention our way."
"Too true, my darling," he nodded, patting the hand that rested on his arm.
They finally reached his office, a room with plush carpets, bookcases as tall as the ceiling along three walls, and a great, intricately carved desk that had been in the family for centuries.
Lyv used to play under that desk and crawl around it when she was a child, tracing her fingers over the carvings of humans, Fae, and creatures, both magic and not. She never remembered seeing it when her grandfather was still king. But when he died and her father was crowned, the desk had magically appeared from whatever storage room it had been unearthed from. She was entranced with it from the first time she saw it.
And now, she found herself entranced for a completely different reason. On top were rolled out maps of the northern shore of Oria and another of Dalcaine. She knew those pen strokes, those curves and angles of the lettering. Even though she only had a glance at it the night before, she knew who created them.
A fire was already lit in the hearth. Lyv and Bence took the two wing-backed chairs in front of it as the flames danced even higher along the stones. Lyv found herself still glancing back toward the desk.
"You saw the maps," Bence said, smiling over to her.
"Yes...but what are they for?"
After listening in on Amory and Gideon's conversation the night before, she already knew the answer. She just wanted to hear it from him to make sure it was true.
Her father sighed, leaning his head back against the chair as he looked over at her. "Would you believe me if I told you I am in talks to open relations back up with Dalcaine?"
"But...why? And how?"
"It's been over twenty-five years since the start of the war, twenty since it ended, and almost nineteen since your mother came back to us with you in her arms. The war was not mine. It was not my father's. It was started by a woman who love another and yet he didn't love her, couldn't love her. She didn't want to bow to that knowledge, even though she was married and had three children with another man."
So, this...this was what Gideon meant when he mentioned her mother the night before. "You can't mean it was Mother."
He laughed humorlessly. "You know your mother and I have always had a strained relationship. Though most arranged marriages do end up with the man and woman at least respecting each other if not loving, that was never the case for us. Our marriage was arranged so her family wouldn't have to live with only a name and no wealth or lands to that title after her grandfather lost it years ago."
Lyv always knew this. She never saw love in her parents' eyes whenever they looked at each other. It was always indifference or, when they fought, dislike...maybe even hatred on her mother's part. She and her sisters were born out of duty to a crown rather than love between two people.
"Your mother...she would never agree to this, especially after what happened when she was taken." Bence shook his head and looked over at her. "You know of the Lord of Asturia, right? You've snuck out those Dalcaine history books before."
She nodded. "Lord Alberich Deverell. He's Fae."
"Correct. Your mother used to visit Ayveri from time to time when she was younger and her father was still alive and trading with Dalcaine. Of course, she was looking for a husband, even though she was already betrothed to me. That was when she met the Fae lord on his trip to meet with the king and queen in Ayveri."
"Did they ever...?"
"No," he answered, shaking his head. "Lord Alberich had already found his mate and made her his wife."
"Lady Bridget, the daughter of the Lord and Lady of Eld."
"Correct again. That was the first time in the history of Dalcaine that a Fae lord and a sorceress were mated and have been married for over a hundred and sixty years now. Your mother, though...well, if you haven't already noticed, she's quite ambitious and was willing to do anything to win Lord Alberich's affections. It wasn't going to happen, though, and she wasn't willing to accept it."
"So, she started a war over a Fae male who would never be hers."
"And thousands had to die because of it."
Now that her father told her this, she understood the look of absolute hatred in Gideon's expression the night before when he brought up the war. His parents had been killed, something he still seemed to be trying to get over. If only he knew who he'd invited into his home the night before, he wouldn't be able to look at her as a friend like he had.
And Amory...she didn't even have to see his faceat the mention of her mother when she was listening into theirconversation. She could feel the hatredand disgust rolling off him in waves. Hopefully the both of them had already left the city. Then she wouldn't have to see those looks she'dreceive when they realized just who she was.