I raised a brow. “He’s not even guarded?”
Zander gave a tight smile. “It seems he is free to leave as long as he wears a mask, but I’ve made inquiries since we met. He rarely leaves the castle.”
He pushed the door open, and we stepped inside the elaborate suite.
The walls were draped in rich silks of crimson and gold, embroidered with ancient fae sigils that shimmered faintlyunder the light. A carved wooden table sat in the center, covered in crystal decanters and books written in languages I couldn’t begin to name.
And lounging like a bored noble in a cushioned chair, sat Alahathrial.
His robes clung to him like water, silver and black threaded through with veins of gold, too fine for even Warriath’s court. He looked more like a high priest than a prisoner.
But his face…
He was tired.
The lines beneath his eyes, the subtle wear to his voice as he lifted his head, revealed the weight of centuries or something near enough.
He looked at Zander the moment we stepped inside.
And didn’t look away.
“Prince Zander,” he said, voice like smooth stone. “To what do I owe the honor of a midnight visit?”
“I am being visited by… something. It invades my dreams.”
Alahathrial stared at me for a moment. “Dream walkers are rare but they exist. Be wary if one of the dark ones has targeted you.”
“A dream walker? I thought they were extinct,” Zander said.
“As did I,” Alahathrial said.
My eyes narrowed. “He is invading my dreams to learn more about me. About my life.”
“Yes.”
I stepped forward. “Every time we turn around, we are thrust into some kind of intrigue. It doesn’t seem to matter if it’s the court, the Order, or one of the new sects trying to gain power on the continent. Why are we at the center of this? Why are the Blood Fae watchingus?”
Alahathrial turned his head slowly, his gaze settling fully on Zander now, almost reverent.
“It is not because you are a prince,” he said softly.
Zander went still beside me.
“It is because you aremyson,” Alahathrial continued, “and you have inherited my father’s… gifts.”
The words rang in the chamber like a spell just cast.
And everything shifted.
Zander took a step back, the muscle in his jaw twitching. His voice was ragged with disbelief.
“That’s a lie. There is no way you’re my father.”
I turned to Alahathrial, ready to deny it right alongside him. To laugh it off, to rip the words apart before they could take root.
But then I really looked.
At the lines of Alahathrial’s face. The structure of his jaw. The shape of his eyes, those gold-flecked lavender eyes I’d only ever seen in one other person.
