We fell into a somber silence, the weight of this revelation pressing down upon us like a storm cloud.
“Is there anything I can do?” I asked at last, feeling utterly useless.
He heaved a long sigh, looking pained, and said with what seemed like regret, “No. I just need to think. Please excuse me.”
Still gripping his mother’s dress, he left the parlor, likely headed to his study, perhaps to summon his spies or merely sit with this new information. Should I follow and try to offer him some solace?
No, he’d left so he wouldn’t have to dismiss me, ever thoughtful of my feelings. And how difficult that must have been when I wore the face of his enemy, the scheming, conniving fae.
What could I do? Confront my mother directly? No, Vasil would want to be strategic, the one in control of the situation. I’d surely make a mess of the whole thing. It left me feeling powerless, frustrated, and angry. Former me would have bellied up to the nearest bar, drank a few tankards of beer, and started a fight with a local brawler, but that would only cause Vasil more distress. I didn’t want to be a burden, especially now when he needed me most.
I decided to pay a visit to Galen instead. If my mother had been the one to orchestrate his parents’ murder, then she was likely behind this most recent assassination attempt as well. I didn’t want to believe her capable of such monstrosity. Trafficking in fae children? Could my mother really be so evil? Was everything she’d said about fae children being a rare and precious gift, a lie?
Galen seemed cheered when he spotted me. I’d stopped by a few times since our initial meeting, mostly to check on him and make sure the guards were treating him well–of course they were. They’d started incorporating outdoor time into hisschedule so that he’d not become nutrient deficient. Despite my regular visits, Galen still hadn’t given up any more information, and every time I broached the topic, the boy clammed up like a moonflower at dawn.
“You’ve had a bath,” I said, noticing the shine in his hair and the fresh set of clothing he wore.
“Yes, and the water was hot.”
“The Goddess blesses the elvish with the eternal flame. How’s the honey here?” I asked.
“Wonderful, Your Highness. And plentiful.”
“So, you’re getting enough to eat?” I asked.
“More than I was ever allowed before.”
Honey was expensive in the elvish realm and necessary to our survival. I wondered if that had been yet another tool of capitulation. I added “starving children” to the list of crimes of whomever Galen’s captor turned out to be, maybe my mother. It made me ill to even think it. But thankfully, Galen did look a bit fuller in the cheeks. Hopefully with better nutrition he might even grow a bit.
“Have you played StarForge before?” I asked him, showing off the deck of ornately decorated cards I’d bought off one of the guards.
“No, Your Highness, there’s not much time for games where I’m from.”
I tucked that tidbit away as another possible clue and taught the game to Galen, which required him drawing a pentagram on the stone slab of his cell floor with a piece of chalk. We each rolled the metal dice engraved with elvish runes to earn “hammer cards,” which allowed the player the ability to forge various materials. The goal was to build a weapon from each category–air, fire, water, earth, and spirit. Galen was a quick learner with a mind for strategy. He reminded me of my younger brother, Edwyn, who generally preferred to be indoors readingor playing music or inventing games such as this. A dreamer and a gentle soul. Not at all suited for battle, in my humble opinion.
I recalled the ferocity with which Galen defended himself against me, a desperate, feral sort of struggle. Who might the boy have become if not forced into this life of treachery? I wished again that he would let us help him bring his captor to justice.
But to force the issue would only push him away.
“Have you ever met my mother?” I asked him at length, and the look he gave me was one of grave surprise, as if it were out of the realm of possibility. A good sign perhaps?
“No, Your Highness. I’ve only seen her likeness in the papers.” His reaction seemed genuine, which meant that if my mother was behind this scheme, he didn’t know it.
“Well, she’s not always the warmest person,” I said, a vast understatement.
“Really?” he asked with a sincere curiosity.
“Really. And right now, I’m rather cross at her.” I was holding the queen card in my hand, which would have been a lot of forge points if I played it, but I held back.
“What’s she done?” Galen asked, a look of concern passing over his face before lowering his gaze to concentrate on his hand.
What hasn’t she done?I thought to myself miserably. “Well, we’ve never really gotten along, you see. She’s always told me that I remind her of my father, not a good thing, apparently.”
“King Reginald?”
“That’s right.”
He glanced up and eyed me closely. “You do resemble him.”
