"Lord Kaya is generous."
"Lord Kaya doesn't give compliments he doesn't mean.” Those golden eyes held a particular stillness. He already knew the answers to every question he was asking. "Where does your family come from? The borderlands, yes? Your mother—Elif, isn't it? She's kept you quite hidden all these years."
The shadows coiled tighter. How did he know my mother's name? Why would the Light God care about a nobody's family history?
"My mother values her privacy, my lord."
"And your father?"
"A wanderer. Not the kind of man who stays in one place long enough to be known."
"Curious." The word hung in the air. "Your magic is... unusual, Hakan. I've felt it, you know. When you're near my daughter.There's something in you that doesn't quite match the training you've received."
My blood went cold. I kept my face neutral, but beneath my skin, something stirred—that other part of me, the darkness that was suppressed by light for so long. I forced it down, crushed it into stillness, but for a heartbeat I wasn't sure it would obey.
The Light God's eyes flickered to my hands. Had he seen something? Sensed something?
His smile widened, just slightly.
"You have remarkable control," he said, almost to himself. "Most young men would have revealed themselves by now. The pressure in this room alone..." He gestured vaguely at the pillars, the watching courtiers, the weight of divine power pressing down on everything. "You're either very disciplined or very frightened. Perhaps both."
"My lord, I don't?—"
"I'm giving you my blessing." He raised a hand, cutting off whatever denial I'd been about to offer. "To court Ada. To marry her, eventually, if that's what you both want."
The words didn't make sense. I'd walked in here expecting death or humiliation, and instead?—
"Why?" The question escaped before I could stop it. "Why would you allow this?"
"Because I see potential in you." His smile returned, warm and fatherly, and something in my gut said wrong, this is wrong. "Because my daughter loves you, and her happiness matters to me. And because..." He paused, and those golden eyes seemed to look straight through me, past skin and bone to whatever laybeneath. "Some paths are meant to be walked. Some unions are meant to be forged. You'll understand eventually."
He stood, and I rose automatically, my mind still reeling.
"Go," he said. "Tell Ada the good news. I expect you'll want to make your courtship official."
I bowed again, deeper this time because I didn't know what else to do, and turned to leave.
"Hakan."
I stopped at the door.
"Take care of her." The Light God's voice was soft, almost gentle. "She's more precious than you know. And so, I suspect, are you."
I didn't look back. I couldn't. Because if I had, he would have seen the fear on my face—fear that had nothing to do with his power and everything to do with the way he'd looked at me.
Like he knew exactly what I was.
Like he'd been waiting for me my entire life.
For three steps down the corridor, I nearly turned around.
Nearly walked back through those golden doors and saidWhat do you mean, more precious than I know? What do you see when you look at me? Do you know what's in my blood? Do you know why my mother runs? Do you know what's waking up inside me?
The questions stacked up behind my teeth like a dam about to break. Because Gün Ata was a god. An actual god, ancient and all-seeing, and if anyone in this realm knew what was wrongwith me — what was waking up inside me, what the shadows meant, why my blood ran dark — it would be him.
But that was exactly why I couldn't ask.
If he knew, and the answer was what I feared, then I'd lose Ada. I'd lose the Academy, the border apartment, my mother's careful two-century deception — all of it, gone, because I'd walked into the Light God's throne room and handed him the rope to hang me with.
