Ronin was also attempting to consolehimself. Had spent the entire time Mireille had been with Otto pacing the room, wondering if he should go check on her.
He knew she wouldn’t want that. Whatever play she was making, he wanted her to be able to execute it without his interference. He trusted her. She was the cleverest person he knew. Far cleverer than he was.
But none of those thoughts made him feel any better that it was coming up on an hour since she’d left.
Just when he was about to throw caution to the wind, tear through the estate, and go rescue her, the door swung open and Mireille stepped in. His shoulders relaxed at the sight of her, intact and unharmed, but worry stirred through him at her troubled eyes and fraught expression.
“What happened?” He rushed to her, gripping her upper arm. Needing to reassure himself of her physical presence.
Her lower lip quivered as a small breath escaped. She pulled out of his grip and plopped down into an armchair, avoidinghis gaze. “Otto told me something about myself this morning. A secret my mother kept from me my entire life.”
Ronin fell to his knees before her, clasping her hands. Mimicking her supplication before him last night. “Whatever it is?—”
“My father was human,” she blurted, and Ronin clenched the armrests to keep from toppling over.
She brushed a hand through her hair, and her scent washed over him. The notes in it crystallized with stunning clarity. That underlying sweetness, that floral note on the edge of decay.
Mortality.
The answer had been, quite literally, right under his nose and on the tip of his tongue this entire time.
Ronin sat back on his heels, placing his palms on her thighs, trying to offer whatever comfort he could. Based on her age, he knew her father must have passed. His chest squeezed painfully for her. To find out the truth about her father at the same time as any hope of ever meeting the man was snatched away… Fuck, that was rough.
Not to mention terrifying. Ronin remembered what had become of anyone accused of being a half-breed during the war; they were hunted by the Empire, exposed by newly paranoid friends and neighbors, then thrown into Tartarus. He wondered how many of those prisoners had been taken based on rumor and speculation alone. Outwardly, there was no way to tell a full-blooded Fae from a half-breed. Well, other than that extremely faint dissonance he’d recognized in Mireille’s scent. Did the Empire know of it?
“They were from Akti,” Mireille choked out. “Both my mother and my father. I should have…should have realized earlier the significance of that territory, its proximity to the Desolation. It’s where the majority of the human settlementswere before the war. Where the most interspecies breeding would have occurred.”
“So the other guests…”
“All have humans somewhere in their bloodlines. It’s what those stars signified in their family trees.”
“Mattias and Larissa…”
Mireille nodded.
“But Mattiascouldwield fire magic. Even if it was an extremely low level. If mixed human and Fae blood is what supplies it and you’re half human, why can’t you?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I’ve never… Maybe the awareness of it affects one’s ability to wield it? I had no idea that I possessed it, so why would I have ever tried to access it?”
“If awareness is the key, then why can’t Nero access water magic?” Ronin countered. “He suspected his ancestors possessed it, so surely he would’ve been able to conjuresomething.”
Mireille growled in frustration. “I don’tknow.”
He squeezed her thighs tighter, his eyes softening. “I’m so sorry, Mireille. So sorry that you had to learn about your father this way.”
He sensed the shift immediately. That cool facade returned, her entire countenance hardening. Her shoulders stiffened as she pulled herself upright.
“I’m fine. Otto shared more important things with me that you need to hear.”
“Mireille…” He reached for her cheek, but she swatted him away.
“I said I’mfine, Ronin. This isn’t over. And if we don’t figure outexactlywhat the fuck Otto is up to, there are going to be far worse consequences for everyone here than some inconsequential secret of my parentage.”
Ronin wanted to argue with her. Wanted to shout that her feelings about thiswereimportant. That she deserved some time to process them. Deserved to give herself some of that compassion she’d shown him last night.
But he knew that work was her favorite distraction. So he didn’t push.
Not yet.
