The corner of his mouth lifted—just slightly, barely there. “I know what the prince told me at supper.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And what was that?”
“That you are… formidable.”
Evelyne held his gaze, searching for the meaning beneath his words. “I only expect respect, Father. He does not understand that.”
He hesitated for a brief moment before reaching into the folds of his dark robe. When his hand emerged, it held a small package, wrapped in soft, well-worn cloth. He turned it over in his palm once before extending it to her.
“I may not have been the best father for a young woman,” he said, his voice steady. “But I have always tried to be the best I knew how to be.”
Evelyne swallowed, momentarily taken aback by his words. She took the package with careful hands, unwrapping the cloth to reveal a delicate silver necklace. A small pearl pendant rested in the center, catching the dim candlelight.
She inhaled sharply. She knew this necklace.
“This was—”
“Your mother’s.” Rhaedor’s voice was quieter now, softer. “She wore it often. You used to reach for it as a child when she held you.”
Evelyne ran her fingertips over the cool surface of the pearl. She had searched for this necklace once, when she was young. No one had spoken of it, and eventually, she’d let herself believe it had been buried with her mother.
“She was different,” her father continued, his gaze distant as if looking back through time. “She had troubles before you came along, before the people truly accepted her. But in the end, they loved her.”
She unclenched her jaw just long enough to answer him.
“She brought something fresh to this place.”
“She did. Too much at times.”
They shared a look. It was rare for him to speak of her mother so openly, rare for them to share such a moment.
“Keep it,” he said at last, nodding toward the necklace in her palm. “It should be yours.”
Evelyne closed her fingers around the delicate chain, holding it to her chest. “Thank you.”
When he looked away, she allowed herself a slow, quiet exhale.
“You’ve always carried yourself with more sense than most twice your age,” he murmured. “And I know you’ll rule well by his side.”
She smiled faintly. “That’s assuming he lets me rule at all considering our lack of…agreement.”
“He must, the treaty is unambiguous,” his expression grew more pensive. “But I know you’ll miss your mother there. More than you already do.”
A lump formed in Evelyne’s throat. She swallowed past it, blinking down at the necklace in her hands. “She left too soon.”
“She did.” His voice was quieter now. “Too soon to teach you how to handle a wayward man.”
“You think that’s what I need most?”
The king smirked, the expression rare. “I think it wouldn’t hurt.”
Her fingers tightened imperceptibly against the necklace. “And what would she have told me?”
His gaze drifted somewhere distant, as if he could see her mother standing there between them. “She’d say people accept hard truths more readily when they arrive at them themselves.”
Evelyne raised an eyebrow. “That sounds… manipulative.”
“It’s wisdom,” he corrected, the corner of his mouth twitching. “She had a way of making people believe they came to the right conclusion all on their own.”
