Ravi exhales slowly. “Leigh, I’m not trying to attack you. I am trying to help.”
I’m tired of snap judgments, people lying to me, and people trying to control me. He is collecting information to share withAlden. Why else would he ask me something so personal? My mother’s whereabouts have nothing to do with my powers.
“No, you’re judging me. My parents weren’t perfect, but they did their best,” I retort.
Sorry, I project to my father’s lingering spirit.
Gwyn Raelyn was a fantastic father, but he had his secrets. He never prepared me for the possibility of ascending the throne. It’s not like anyone plans for their death without some forewarning, but still, I was left clueless about how to rule. And now, here I am, grappling with the consequences, and he is a ghost making up for lost time.
“My parents weren’t perfect, either,” Ravi admits. His brown eyes hold a deep sadness, and I feel bad. Almost.
“Were your parents Lunar Witches?” He nods at my question. “And they taught you how to use your magic, despite the consequences?” Again, he nods. “Weren’t they scared?”
“My parents spent time in an asylum, Leigh,” he reveals, and I flinch. Images from my dream return. I can’t imagine living in such a place. “That’s how they met and why they taught me about magic. They wanted to overcome the stigma that the Lunar Witches were something to be feared. We aren’t evil.”
We aren’t, but I’m not the one who needs convincing. The world does.
“Was your mother or father related to Ivah?” I ask. Ravi barely suppresses a smile. I roll my eyes. “I am not saying I believe you.”
“My ma,” he finally says.
“How’d she die?” The question slips out, unbidden. I’m supposed to be learning to dreamwalk, but I can’t help myself. Other than Selene, I’ve never actually known another Lunar Witch. It seems like we’re all cursed with the same kind of pain.
Ravi hesitates, then asks, “Can we talk about something else?”
My heart aches. I know how hard it is to talk about this kind of thing. “I’m sorry,” I manage to say, though it feels inadequate. Words don’t bring people back.
“I buried her years ago in Glaucus.” His voice is steady, but I sense an underlying sorrow that echoes my own.
I let out a slow breath, fiddling with my sleeve. “My grandmother is actually there now. It’s also where . . .” I pause. I don’t want to discuss Psyche Psychiatric. That chapter of my life has nothing to do with Ravi.
“I know your family had you committed,” Ravi says.
I bare my teeth. “Have you been keeping tabs on me?”
“You’re my family and a queen. And, I might have done an internet search or two.”
I release a strangled laugh. Dammit, Ravi . . . I do notwantto like him. I can’t afford to. But something about his presence puts me strangely at ease.
“You mentioned in your television interview that you concealed your magic by taking suppressants,” Ravi says. “Will you tell me who gave them to you?”
Something in his posture tells me he already knows the answer.
“An orderly helped by giving me medical grade suppressants. I tried off-market ones before I left Borealis, but I ran out when I got to the hospital. And then, I couldn’t hide my true nature. But that’s all I will say.”
“Was it Anselm Raymor?”
I open my mouth several times. How the hell does he know that?
“We’re friends,” Ravi says. “Anselm helped smuggle us suppressants when we lived in Glaucus. He’s one of the good ones.”
I nod, my scalp prickling. I don’t like that Ravi knows so much about me, especially my time at Psyche Psychiatric, while I know next to nothing about him.
“You said ‘us.’ Do you have siblings?”
A flicker of surprise—or perhaps guilt—crosses Ravi’s face, as if he’s let something slip that he didn’t intend to reveal. Dammit, we’ve veered way off topic, but now I must know what he is hiding.
“A brother or a sister?” I press. Perhaps it isn’t him who wants my throne. Maybe it’s his sibling.
