“Everly,” he said softly. It was more exclamation than greeting, as if he had lost something precious and discovered it somewhere unexpected.
Which made no sense, because I had never been precious to him, and because he had every reason to expect me here, in the palace where I was the queen.
Still, the word stirred a memory, faint and buried, of the first time I met him. Hadn’t he said my name exactly that way?
Belatedly, I nodded, not sure what else to do or say.
Why hadn’t I waited for Wynnie to come with me? I could have timed my arrival better, given her time to break the ice. To do anything but stare at a male I scarcely knew in a silence filled with questions I could never bring myself to ask.
When was the last time I had been in the same room as my father without her as a buffer? It had been Wynnie who told me of the king’s summons. Who dragged me to the carriage on numb footsteps and whispered that everything would be all right. Who snapped at my father to stay sober long enough to walk into the palace.
Who had been my family and my company and my solace when the male before me had rarely brought himself to so much as look at me.
Before I could find my voice, my father’s gaze slid to the spot just behind me, and he nodded his head.
“Your Majesty.”
I blinked, having all but forgotten Draven was here—a near impossible feat between his oppressive mana and the bond that kept me aware of his presence at all times.
Amias must have excused himself somewhere in the incredibly awkward silent stare-down because only the three of us remained in the room.
“Lord Elarion.” Draven’s tone was so neutral that I would never have known what he felt for my father, but even under the circumstances, an icy rage trickled steadily from his side of the bond.
I sent a question to him and he sent back a vision of an empty estate, a bedroom stuffed with mismatched furniture I had found in the old storage closets because I had known, intrinsically, that my father couldn’t stand being reminded of my presence.
But how did I explain to my husband the careful balance of my relationship with the father neither of us had been ready to acknowledge, the secrets we couldn’t tell, or the danger we kept buried?
I couldn’t entirely fault my father for running away rather than deal with any of those things, but neither could I defend him when he had two children at home raising themselves in his absence.
My pulse raced, my mana swelling like it was responding to the turmoil in my mind, to the two sides of me that could never seem to meet in the middle. Shadows met ice, and I squeezed my eyes shut.
“You have mana.” It was a statement, not a question, one laced with what might have been concern if it hadn’t come from a male who had never shown a single emotion in the entire time I had known him.
My insides caught fire, burning from somewhere deeper than my bones. Draven reached for me while Batty squeaked in myear, something that sounded vaguely insulting about my newly arrived patriarch.
All I could do was nod, since I couldn’t very well explain—wasn’t sure I even wanted to—when he had never shown me even close to that same courtesy.
I needed answers, and I had never even considered that my father might have them. Which felt ridiculous now, except that we had never had a single sober conversation after the first day I found him.
Maybe he was as trapped in memories as I was, because neither of us could seem to form the words to speak.
Fortunately, salvation came for us both in the form of the third highest-ranking lady in the palace, cursing like a soldier as she ripped open the partition that separated the relatively private space from the general infirmary.
“Where the hells have you been?” she demanded. “I wrote to you.”
She looked him up and down, scowling, though I saw the crease of worry at the corners of her eyes as she took in the blood spattered on his face and the telltale white sheet draped over his body.
A faint smirk lifted the corner of his lips, and Wynnie’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. I didn’t blame her. I couldn’t remember if I had ever seen anything resembling a smile on his face.
“I had some things to take care of,” he said vaguely, eyes going faraway.
She scoffed. “Yeah, well, you had lots of things to take care of, and it sure as shards never motivated you before.”
Instead of taking offense, he only nodded, like that was what he expected her to say. Then he blinked, wincing as he turned his attention back to me.
Abruptly, his expression turned serious. “You need to leave. It isn’t safe here.”
My insides turned to ice. Draven stiffened at my back, alarm running through the bond, and Batty trilled nervously in my ear.
