She snorted in derision. “We all have choices. Your father was king of the trolls, ogres and giants, and you’re telling me that he couldn’t have fought against her to keep you safe?”
“It was more complicated than that.” And it was something he struggled with on his own. He loved his father dearly, but he’d never understand why his father had given in to Meara’s demands without a fight. Why he’d forced Xaydin to go when he could have sent another.
As Gisela had noted, they’d had an army, and his mother’s and father’s magic. He would have never handed over his own child. Not for anything.
Not for any cost. He’d have fought every devil in every realm for the sake of his child.
And it was hard to forgive his father for the fact that he hadn’t been so protective. But he’d never been in his father’s position, and for that, he was truly grateful.
Maybe he would have done the same thing.
That was the nightmare that forever haunted him.
Would he give up his child for his kingdom?
And it made him curious about something. “If the only way to secure your kingdom and procure peace for your people meant you had to send your child to another, would you do it?”
Gisela frowned at his question. “No. Never.”
“So you would send your kingdom to war rather than trust your child to protect himself?”
She nodded. “Knowing what I know…what I’ve seen? Yes. I would send grown soldiers to die before I’d risk my child’s safety with someone I didn’t know.”
“What of the innocent children who would die in the conflict?”
“I would trust their parents and my soldiers to protect them. I would never send an innocent into hell to secure anything. It’s not a child’s place to protect their kingdom.”
There it was. That note in her voice that told him she’d been a hostage too. Only she didn’t want to acknowledge it for some reason.
But he knew the hatred and venom that lived within her. It was the infernal fire that stayed inside him, night and day. All of them, really. Everyone who’d been sent to Meara as a hostage. None of them had survived that trauma without being filled with darkness and rage.
How could they?
They’d spent years being beaten and tortured. And all for the centaur queen’s depravity. “I’m sorry, Gisela.”
“Sorry for what?”
He didn’t answer. There was no need, especially since they were nearing the shop he’d come out of their way to visit.
4
Kicking his horse forward, he left Gisela with Masakage.
Gisela watched him leave with a frown. “Where’s he off to?”
“Goddess and the Moon.”
“Pardon?”
He jerked his chin toward the small cottage that lay before them. From this distance, it looked like a small thatched home with a well-kempt yard. “The shop ahead. X will need supplies for our crossing. I’m sure we’re here to pick them up.”
“In such a hurry?”
He shrugged. “I don’t question my brother. I’m just along for the irritation.”
But she was curious. Kicking her own mount forward, she rushed to the small cottage where strange, twisted statues lay in a rock garden off to the right side. She wasn’t sure if those statues were supposed to be enemies or friends.
Or even what the statues represented.
