I closed my eyes. His acceptance made me feel a kind of safety I’d hardly ever experienced. And here I was, keeping perhaps the most important revelation of his life from him. But it wasbecauseof his life that I was holding back the truth. Because I couldn’t bear to see him lose it.
A knock on the door made me open my eyes, meeting the gaze of the woman staring back at me in the mirror. She looked like a challenger. A spy. A warrior.
I felt like a fraud.
Moving to the door, I opened it to find a servant with an envelope resting on a tray, my name written on top in what I recognized as Gayl’s handwriting. Being careful not to rip the contents, I tore the envelope open and pulled out two pieces of parchment. One was a handwritten letter, and the other was…a portrait.
Of my father and Gayl.
They appeared to be in their early twenties. The charcoal drawing showed my father with his arm slung around his older brother, his dark hair cropped and clean-cut while Gayl’s was wild and unruly, almost touching his shoulders. They were both smiling, their youthful happiness so contagious it made my lips twitch up in response. My shaking fingers traced the outline of my father’s strong jaw, his laughing eyes, his kind smile. It had been so long since I’d seen him, besides the tiny picture kept in my locket. It was easy to forget he’d once looked like this, so carefree and young.
A tear fell and landed on the edge of the portrait. I hastily wiped it away, the backs of my eyes stinging with the effort to keep my emotions at bay.
I reluctantly set it aside and turned my attention to the note.
Rose,
I apologize for last night and the way I forced such news uponyour shoulders. I didn’t intend to cause you alarm, but I fear my story may have pushed you further away.
My brother was first and foremost a scholar. A man who loved the written word and the wealth that knowledge provided him. It’s a shame that the world will never know of the epiphanic discoveries he made, but I believe he would have wanted to share them with you. To pass along the hidden depths of our magic to his daughter, whom I know he treasured beyond all else, even if I never spoke with him of you. That was who Hamilton was. A man of few words, but a heart and mind as wide and endless as the sea.
I found this drawing in what little possessions I took with me from Feywood. Whenever you would like to know more about the Hamilton I knew, pen your response on the back of this parchment. I will receive it.
I look forward to meeting with you once again.
-T.G
I crumpled the bottom half in my grip as I finished, then cursed and quickly spread it out on my bed, smoothing away the wrinkles as best I could.
The hidden depths of our magic.
What would my father have been able to teach me, had he lived long enough? Aunt Morgana had made it sound like Gayl had coerced him into some dark life of blood magic, but Gayl’s words told of how passionate my father was, how he made these profound discoveries. It pricked at my curiosity, dusting off some bone-deep desire.
I let myself dwell on the note for one more moment before tucking it away. I would deal with it later—first, I had to get through this dinner and the second trial that began in the morning.
After carefully folding the drawing so my father’s face stared up at me when I placed it on my bedside table, I made my way out the door, unsurprised to find Horace waiting forme.
He scanned me head-to-toe appraisingly, taking in my dress and heels. “You look…different.”
I snorted. “Be careful, Horace. Keep talking to me like that and we won’t make it to dinner.”
He frowned at me, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s ajoke. Always the big, grumpy guard,” I teased, flexing my muscles and slouching, forcing my features into a sullen glare.
“I don’t look like that,” he grumbled as we descended a staircase, heading to the dining hall. I smiled when he shifted his shoulders back to stand straighter.
“You’re right, Horace. You’re very handsome,” I said, nudging his shoulder. “Do you have someone back home? A wife or anything?”
He shook his head with a grunt. “Hard to have much of a personal life with the Guard on one shoulder and Sentinels on another.” He lowered his voice at the last part, even though we were the only two in sight.
My playful mood dimmed. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. It must be hard, living a double life. What made you want to do it?”
“I was tired of seeing nothing be done to fix things,” he said with a shrug. “Too many people who should be keeping the capital safe are happy to turn a blind eye. Our emperor included. I got sick of it. You can only watch so many bastards walk away from a crime or so many starving kids in the streets before realizing something’s not right.”
I nodded. “Did Rissa find you? Or did you find them?”
“I found them. Caught Chaz skulking around the perimeter on my night watch and told him I could either turn him in or he could tell me what he was doing and I’d let him go. He told me about the Sentinels, and I knew I had to meet them.”
I considered his story, wanting to ask even more questions but knowing people might be within earshot at any moment. I couldn’t imagine the courage it took to cross his employers, cross theemperor, right under their very noses in order to take a stand onwhat he believed in. And to continue doing it for years, with the threat of discovery waiting around every corner…
