“An amateur, but quite talented. My father built a gallery just for her.” He pauses, sadness lacing his tone. “It was abandoned after she died. Now it’s a storage room or some such.”
“Where are her paintings now? Still there?”
“Morvarid had them burned.”
A pained gasp escapes my lips. “What a horrid bitch! I’m so sorry.”
“No argument here,” he says. “Don’t worry, I managed to salvage one or two.”
“I’m glad,” I say feelingly, and try to lead the conversation in another direction. “Was your mother Kaldarian?”
“No, she was an ambassador from Eloni.”
Ambassador?I nearly swallow a mouthful of water and push myself upright. My feet scrape the rocky bottom as I angle my body toward Roshan in the lambent light. Most ambassadors of any of the houses hailed from noble families. And Eloni is the second-wealthiest city in the kingdom and the birthplace of Queen Morvarid herself.
The king’s marriage had been a strategic political alliance, uniting two of the most powerful noble families in Oryndhr. Though in the end, all it had served to do was widen the gap between the wealthy and the starving, adding to the growing unrest in the kingdom.
“Was your mother from the House of Regulus?” I ask, knowing most of its institutes and colleges are located in Eloni.
“Fomalhaut,” he says.
I frown. “What was she doing in Kaldari?”
Roshan sighs, eyes like onyx in the greenish light. “She was visiting her sister.” He pauses and heaves a deeper breath, as if the words are too painful to get out. I understand why when he finally speaks. “Morvarid.”
“The queen’s youraunt?” I thought he’d run out of ways to shock me, but I was wrong. He’s the queen’s bloody nephew. “No wonder Javed hates you.”
“Javed hates me for a host of reasons, but yes, that’s up there with the best of them. The ties of noble blood strengthen my claim to the crown, you see. If my mother had been a faceless commoner, I would be less of a threat. Instead, I’m a noble bastard with powerful bloodlines exactly the same as Javed’s. Now you know why my parentage is such a secret. One that Javed and the queen will do anything to keep hidden.”
“Tell me more about her, your mother,” I ask, wanting to ease the sudden ugly tension that has turned his body to stone beside me. “Was she very charming?”
“She was. Her smile could brighten a room.” Roshan’s tone growssofter with fondness. “As much as my aunt is as cold as ice, my mother was like the sun, drawing everyone to her. Including my father. He’d been in love with her as a boy long before that marriage was arranged.” He sighs again, softly. “After my birth, she lived in the palace for many years. Servants were sworn to silence. She and Morvarid never spoke. Their relationship had been strained before she came to Kaldari, and my father’s affection severed it for good.” His voice breaks. “My father’s marriage to the queen was purely political, and he couldn’t help what he felt for my mother. He told me so himself. And after she died, he vowed to keep me close.”
“Why didn’t he marry your mother instead of Morvarid?” I ask.
“Morvarid was the firstborn. It was her right and duty.” Even as he says it, I know I’ll never understand this level of political machination. The diplomatic ties would have been the same, wouldn’t they, regardless of which sister he married? And three people would have been happy. Instead, all that arranged marriage had done was tear apart two lovers and estrange two sisters. And more than that—lead to this painful legacy.
“How did she die?” I ask quietly.
“She went for a walk and just... never came back. I was fourteen.” He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “They found her body broken in the courtyard beneath the highest tower in the castle. She’d fallen hundreds of feet to her death.” His grief is like a tangible force in the open air, and I reach out blindly for him in the water, gripping his palm in mine. “There were rumors of her death being by her own hand. Others said she tripped over a loose stone and fell. But I knew my mother. She was terrified of heights. She would never have gone up there alone.Never.But no one—not even my father—could prove foul play.”
I swallow past the sudden tightness in my throat at the vehemence in his tone. “You think she was lured there?”
He shrugs, his shoulder shifting against mine. “I have my suspicions. In any case, the two who would benefit the most from her death were not in attendance—the queen was not in the palace that day, and Javed was part of a diplomatic visit to the House of Antares in Veniar, part and parcel of learning his duties as prince.”
“That doesn’t mean they weren’t behind it.”
“We’ll never know, will we?” I can feel his breath feathering over my temple. “I’ve watched my back ever since. The only reason I’m alive is because of my father. Murdering a visiting noble, even if she was the queen’s sister, is different from an explicit attack on the king’s son, bastard born or not. But now that my father is dead, that will change.”
“How so?”
Another rasp of breath on my skin. “While my father considered me a member of the Imperial House, there are lords in the lower houses who don’t believe I have any right to succession because of my illegitimacy.”
“I know you can’t believe that birth is a true measure of leadership. Courage is, and heart.” My hands move to his strong forearms and grip them tightly. “You’re the bravest man I know. Your circumstances of birth don’t define you. You’re still a prince. One who keenly understands privilege and responsibility, and your people need that.”
He’s silent, but I can feel him watching me, his gaze like a caress, though he makes no move to close the distance between us.
Mere inches separate us... inches of space and an entire kingdom.
