He still needed the truth, though. He needed her to tell him about the demons of her past so he could help her exorcise them. He changed tack, trying to get at the root trouble from a different angle.
“Considering the gifts you possess, it isn’t surprising that your father eventually went mad after your mother died. For you to possess the power you do, she had to have enough Siren’s power in her to at least partially bind him to her. When that connection was severed... well, the fact that he survived as long as he did is a testament to his own strength. And to you. Of all of your sisters, you were the one he loved the most, weren’t you?”
She set her fork down and looked up at him. “My mother wasn’t a Siren, and I don’t want to talk about my father.”
Her refusal was disappointing, but not unexpected. Gabriella had become an expert and refusing to face her fears.
“What shall we talk about then? We have an entire evening to fill.”
She scowled at him. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll ask you all sorts of prying questions aboutyourlife.”
She obviously meant it as a threat, hoping to stop his “prying,” but he smiled with genuine delight. “That’s an excellent idea.” He spread his hands in invitation. “For you,moa liana,I am an open book. Ask me anything.”
Chapter 15
Summer pressed her lips together in disgust. Once again he’d baited a trap, and once again, she’d walked right into it. Clearly, he wanted her to ask about him, to show interest in his life, his history, his likes and dislikes. Because he knew that remaining ignorant about him made it easier for her to keep holding him at a distance.
“Fine,” she bit out. “Since you’re so interested in fathers, let’s talk about yours.”
She’d hoped to jolt him out of his complacency, but he merely shrugged. “What would you like to know? His name was Dillon, born of House Ocea.”
“Your cousin Ryllian’s House.”
“Ryll’s mother was my father’s sister. My father was a fine Calbernan. Excellent in battle, strong in heart. Wise in so many ways. Devoted to my mother, of course. They were betrothed from birth, and wed the day after he earned hisulumi-lia.They were expecting a second child—a daughter—when he was killed. My mother lost the baby. She would have followed him—their bond was very strong—but she had her twin, my Uncle Calivan, to help her survive her grief, and me as well, though I was still too young to be much help in that way.”
“You mean she would have killed herself because he died?”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” Melancholy curled around the corners of his lips. “My mother isn’t a Siren—not even now that she holds the magic of theMyerialsas well the magic of House Merimydion—but she’s close enough to one that were it not for my uncle, her bonds to my father would have killed her when he died.”
“Sirens don’t survive their mates?”
“According to our histories, that was one of the prices of the power. Mated Sirens could not live without their mates—nor their mates without them. Their bond, once forged, became a sort of symbiosis, necessary to the survival of each of them. That was how the Sirens were slaughtered. The attackers discovered the secret, you see. They burst their own eardrums sosusirenacould not compel their minds, and they snuck into our palaces and villas and murdered the Sirens’ mates and children, severing their deepest links to the ones they loved the most. Even the greatest and most powerful of the Sirens—MyerialMaikalaneia—could not survive the slaughter of her family. It’s why her family was targeted first. Even if the enemy could not hear her Song, she could have Shouted the flesh off their bones, splintered every ship in their armada. She could have Shouted continents back into the sea, so great was her gift. But all they had to do to destroy her was to kill the ones she loved.” He reached across the table to take her hand. “I don’t need to tell you this is another of those Calbernan secrets that you must never reveal to another.”
“No,” Summer murmured, reeling at the thought of what those ancient, evil men had done to destroy the Sirens they feared. No wonder Dilys was so adamant that she should never reveal the truth of what she was to anyone—not even her family. “Your father... how did he die?”
“Thieves broke into House Merimydion’s warehouse. We keep a tight restriction on who sails into our harbors, but these thieves were smart. They smuggled themselves in aboard one of the vessels of our most trusted trading partners, then waited until most of the city was at the birthday celebration of our princess. My father and I were on our way back to our ship to sail home.”
“You were with him when he was killed?”
“He left me sleeping with our guards while he went into the warehouse to get a gift that had come in for my mother. He’d been having treasures brought in from all over Mystral in preparation for the celebration of my sister’s birth. That’s what drew the thieves—the many priceless items he had acquired. He walked in on them. They were armed. He had only his battle fangs and claws. He still managed to kill six of them before he died.” The words were matter-of-fact. The tone was anything but.
“How old were you?”
“Eight.”
Her heart squeezed. So young. Barely older than she’d been when Mama had died, and she still remembered that horrible day as if it had happened yesterday.
“I’m sorry. I know how awful that must have been.” She reached for his hand in an instinctive gesture of compassion.
He clasped it gently and laid his other hand on top of them both so that her hand was surrounded with his warmth. His lashes were lowered, hiding his eyes, but when he looked up a few moments later, there was a gleam of something that made the emptiness inside her tingle and start to hum.
“Thank you,” he said, and the tingle became a hum, resonating inside her. Soothing the ache. As if the resonance helped to fill the emptiness.
She pulled her hand back. He did not attempt to stop her, but neither did he open his hands. His fingers applied the slightest pressure, so that drawing away from him felt like a slow, reluctant release. Even after she was free, it felt as if there were tiny filaments still tying them together, tugging harder at her the farther back she pulled.
“In any event,” Dilys continued after a moment, “my mother very nearly didn’t survive my father’s death. She lost their baby, which made her grief even worse. Sometimes I think that even with my uncle and me there to anchor her, she would have Faded completely had theMyerialnot died the following year.”
He fell silent as the servants approached to clear their salad plates, and then came the parade of salver-bearing servants carrying out the various main courses of their meal. The dinner was a culinary delight. Not as over-the-top as a dinner of state, but just as exquisitely prepared. There were two selections of flavorful fish, a fruit-and-nut stuffed fowl, and a minced lamb pie with a perfectly baked golden crust. For vegetables, Ingarra had prepared light, crisp sea cucumbers tossed in a delicate sauce, roasted summer squash, a coconut and calava root soufflé, tiny roasted potatoes drizzled with garlic oil, and a tangy seaweed dish that Dilys said was a favorite among Calbernans.
