“What’s troubling you?” he asked. He was never one for formalities. His brows drew together while his lips pursed—he was attempting to see. My father and I didn’t resemble each other much. I took after his father, the grandfather I’d never met, whereas he took after his mother. I appeared to be my uncle’s child more than his. But we both had the same silver hair and green scales.
“Much.”
He growled, and I offered him my throat in concession. Father said, “That’s not an answer, Monqilcolnen.”
“Shouldn’t you know the answer?”
Father growled again. I wasn’t getting out of this conversation. He might indeed know exactly what was troubling me, or he might not. It was difficult to know exactly with my father. He was impossible to read.
I scrubbed a hand through my long hair. I wished to tell him and Xapher about Wyn and how my emotions had changed of late. He’d been important to me for a long time, and I’d spoken of him frequently, though I’d never hinted at romance. Now that I’d an inkling of what exactly Wyn was to me, I feared this would become a battlefield I didn’t want to step on. I would, for Wyn. I would do anything in this universe for him. Perhaps that thought should scare me, but it didn’t in the slightest.
“I met someone,” I said.
My father grinned. “I’m pleased to hear it. Your xapher and I worried you would never act on your feelings if you managed to find someone.”
My eyes darted away from my father’s face. I hadn’t acted on it, and I wasn’t sure when I would.
“What?”
“I fear your disapproval.”
“Is the person you desire a human?” he asked. “I have no problem with you taking a human. Your cousins seem enamored of the species.”
“No.” I took a deep breath. “His name is Wyn.”
My father’s face went blank, and I fought to keep my own serene.
The love story between my uncle and his Crystal-chosen mate, Vyn, was often told and shared. It was hailed as a great love story, mainly because of the Crystal’s intervention. What wasn’t shared was my father’s reaction. He’d hated Vyn and opposed the mating to the point there were whispers about a coup. It had driven the brothers apart for a very long time and only my and Hallonnixmin’s birth had brought them back together.
“Are you sure?” he asked, voice deep.
“Yes. Completely. Wyn is mine. I will not choose another.” The moment I said it out loud, I knew it was the truth. I didn’t even know the measure of Wyn’s feelings for me, but I knew my own. My soul was his to keep, whether he desired it or not.
Father laughed, and I blinked. He smiled at me. “This is my punishment.”
“Wyn is not anyone’s punishment, Father. He is a gift. Birth and status do not define a person,” I snarled. “He is lovely, funny, intelligent, and kind. Do not ask me to choose, because I will not choose you and your hate.”
“No, Monqilcolnen,” he said, lifting a hand, “be still. I meant no insult.”
Instinct told me to concede to him, but I refused. I would allow no insult to Wyn.
“My punishment for allowing such… dislike to almost tear apart this family once,” my father said.
Dislike would not have been the word I would’ve chosen.
He continued, “I have since learned the right of it.”
“Have you?” I questioned. When had this happened? I would allow no one to make Wyn feel inferior. He was better than me in every way. I didn’t deserve him, and I would spend the rest of my life trying to measure up, to prove I was worthy of him.
“I have. Vyn wasn’t as forgiving as Kontolmakqilnen, nor should she have been. Nor was your xapher. I will not lie and say it’s not a struggle with Vyn even now, but I fully and gratefully accept your Wyn and I will not treat him any differently.”
“I wish to believe that.”
“Then believe it.”
I closed my eyes. “Wyn is it, Father. There will be no one else. Not ever.”
“I understand.”
