“My daughter? There is no wayyouaremydaughter. She is but a wee thing.” His bravado reverberated through me, threatening to knock me down.
But I rose, tall and straight, to meet the king’s gaze.
He tapped his fingers on the arm of his throne, waiting.
I had read every chronicle about my father I could get my hands on. Questioned tutors viciously for hours on every account of his actions and intentions. The circumstances of his life from childhood to the present day. I even interrogated Vega, for the millionth time, on the carriage ride to Guardian’s Watch about what she remembered of him when she served my mother long ago.
There were three absolutes I gathered about the king. He was a proud man. He was a violent man. But most importantly, hegreatlyadmired wit.
“Of course it is I, if you are the distinguished King Eadric, protector of glorious Oakhaven.” I looked around for show. “Or do I have the wrong great castle?”
Then he did the most frightening thing of all. He smiled. A belly laugh followed, booming from his barrel chest.
Our audience, the court, exchanged uneasy glances as they laughed apprehensively along.
“Mygooddaughter.” The king stood from his throne and stalked in my direction. His stature was intimidating, but I had earned my height from him. Together, we stood tall over his courtiers.
“It is good to see you.” His large arms engulfed me in an unexpected hug that was too tight. Air rushed out of my lungs as his arms constricted around me and lifted me from the ground.
The acrid scent of ale and cardamom seeping off him nearly choked me. He dropped me and a big paw fell onto my shoulder.
“Look at you, a Blackthorn you be! I could spot those fiery tresses from atop Highthorn’s ramparts.” He tugged on the long plait that swung over my shoulder, woven with ruby and pearl hairpins he had given me. It was a wonder Vega had tamed my wild curls at all. “Let us hope you can drink like a Blackthorn too, because Yule is a time to celebrate and be merry!” he said to the crowd, who cheered in response.
A man appeared with a platter of tankards. The king took one and pushed it into my palms without even a second glance, spilling some on my dress in his carelessness. Then he stalked back to his throne. Dismissing me.
That was it.
The eyes of his court followed his lead, falling from me in disinterest. Taking shreds of my pride with them.
Song filled the room, conversation overtook the silence, and Vega appeared back at my side.
“That wentverywell,” she said with a grin.
It did?Gulping the mead, I tried to quell my dry mouth. My hands trembled as a whirlwind of thoughts spun round.
I knew I’d have to play the part. Smile, curtsy, and deliver my lines. I rehearsed every step, every word, and the performance was flawless. Every mark met. Then why did the entire interaction feel completelywrong?
Vega ushered me to rows of long tables set with candles twinkling among rivers of evergreen and holly garlands. We sat as servers with platters of meats and sweetbreads filled the plates before us. But I wasn’t hungry. I only craved mead.
The sweet-sour taste went down with ease, promising to rinse away the bad taste left in my mouth. Maybe the ill-tasting thoughts and feelings could be washed away with drink too.
Twenty years. He sent me away for twenty fucking years. Killed my mother. Annulled their marriage. Called me a bastard. Banished me. Never wrote or visited. And he pretended all was fine. He didn’t even look sorry.
He called me good daughter. Yet treated me like a stranger.
Flames sizzled in my chest, turning my heart to ash and crumpling it. Leaving only a hole in its place, begging to be filled with more drink and rage.
“Ever since the queen’s wretched son built that damned city on the sea, it keeps happening,” a graying courtier sitting next to me said to another, his words pulling me from my firestorm. “Two ships down just this week.”
The queen’s son?
“The ship last month had ten of my horses on it. Then poof, gone,” his conspirator added with a snap of his finger. “Six hundred gold and my best crew, vanished without a trace.”
The first hushed to a treasonous whisper. “We all know what it be, even if the king denies it. Nymphaea calls her children to stop the abomination built in her domain.” The man scowled. “Sirens.”
“Lady Elowyn.Elowyn.” Vega pinched my arm swiftly to get my attention. “Elowyn!”
“What?”
