“I’m sorry if you heard all that.” He explains, “Her mother passed when she was still young. I never quite learned how to talk to her the way she was able to.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He tips his head in thanks. A moment of silence passes between us.
“About last night—” I start, shifting in my seat.
“I didn’t call you here to discuss last night.”
“Really? You’re not mad?”
“Oh, I’m furious. But not with you. My daughter is…a handful.” He shakes his head, making a face.
“She’s been good to me. Everyone has.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I just wanted to check in. See how you’re adjusting.”
My eyebrows lift, and I inhale slowly, considering how I feel.
“I’m…adjusting.” I nod unconvincingly.
“That poker face needs some serious work.” Derek laughs, then takes a steadying breath. “Why are you uneasy?”
“You are…slightly terrifying,” I admit carefully.
“I’m aware.” He suppresses a smirk. “Is that all?”
I loose a long sigh. Then the words flood out of me like a burst dam.
“There’s just a lot of pressure. We’re fighting against timehere, and the sooner I can free my magic and become a warrior, the better. I just want you to know I’m trying my best. I mean, I’m giving it my all. I’m taking this seriously.”
I stare up at him.
“I know that. The captain says you’ve been making progress.”
I perk up against my will. “He said that?”
“I know you and I didn’t get off to the smoothest of starts. You left behind an entire life, your family, your friends?—”
“Actually, I didn’t,” I interrupt. A look of surprise flickers over his face. “I don’t have any family. Not really. My dad died, and Zadyn’s really the only friend I had. My life was...pathetic.”
He studies me for a long time.
“Were you and your father close?”
A sharpness tugs at my heart.
I swallow, looking over the king’s face—my father’s face. He waits for my answer, completely oblivious to the fact that my dad’s eyes peer out from his head. Every fiber of my being wants to hold him. To inhale his scent—that fresh laundry detergent scent that always made me feel so at home. Every part of me wants to spill the truth—the entire truth. To shout that I look like him because the universe is a cruel bitch with a sadistic sense of humor.
Instead, I force a smile and say, “Very.”
“I was close with my father, too.” He studies his calloused hands, the masculine rings on his fingers. “It was his life’s goal to find you.”
“Really?” I ask, inclining my head.
“He was convinced that you would be the answer to all of Solterre’s prayers.” He glances up at me, offering up a rare smile that softens his entire aura. “When I was a child, he would put me to sleep with stories about the ancient Blackbloods. Their heroic feats, their bloody battles. I was fascinated by thewitches—their traditions and culture. I studied their ways for many years.” Derek folds his hands in his lap, interlocking his fingers.
“When my father died, I made him a vow. That I would find you. And that I would prevent your line from dying out completely.” He pauses. “Your arrival here is not coincidental. I fear something is coming.”
