I would have kept it from him for his own sake. For all of our sakes. The more people who know, the more danger he’s in. As much as I hate to admit it, Jonas was right about that. But then, there’s not telling people generally, and not telling hissisters. That’s a big fucking difference.
William lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. There is no humour in it at all. Nothing but pain. ‘So this is it, then? My entire life is a lie? And I only learned about it because I was stupid enough to worry about a person I thought actually cared about me?’
‘William—’ Jonas starts, but William holds up a hand without looking at him.
‘No. Just … don’t. I need them to explain this.’ His eyes flick between Kay and me. ‘Both of you. I need to understand. I don’t understand. I can’t …’
He drags a hand through his hair, pacing a short, restless circleon the rug. ‘My family are in Rowell. That’s what I believed. But you’re telling me that they’re not. That I’m from here. From Wrohelm. And yet, I was hidden here? It makes no sense.’
‘I know it’s a lot to take in. I get that. I’m not even close to comprehending it myself. Believe me.’ I edge towards him, but he flinches like he’s a scared animal. Not wanting to spook him any more than he already is, I shift back. ‘We just want to help you, William,’ I say softly. ‘We want to keep you safe. But you need to realise, we’re only just getting our heads around this ourselves.’
He stares at each of us in turn, nostrils flaring as his breathing quickens. Then he shakes his head in a rapid flurry.
‘It’s not possible. Florian Kultavarisdied. Everyone knows that. The king ordered it.’ His voice falters as understanding dawns slowly, painfully. ‘My whole life,’ he murmurs quietly, as if to himself, ‘Artur told me I was lucky. Lucky to have been given a future here.’ His laugh is hollow. ‘Turns out I was stolen.’
‘You weren’t stolen,’ Kay says quickly. ‘You were saved. This is a miracle, William. I promise you.’
He looks at me again, a sheen glistening in his eyes. ‘Do you know what the worst part is?’
I shake my head.
‘I believed it.’ His voice drops. ‘Every word. I built myself on the lie my father … the lie Artur told me.’ He presses a fist to his chest. ‘If I’m not who I thought I was … then who am I?’
‘You’re still the same person,’ I hasten to reassure him. ‘You are. It’s just your history that’s changed.’
‘My heritage,’ he corrects. ‘How can I know who I am if I don’t even know where I come from?’
Finally, he stops his pacing and sinks onto the edge of a chair, elbows braced on his knees, staring at the floor. ‘I have sisters,’ he says again, softer this time, as though testing the shape of the words. ‘I have a family.’ His voice hardens as he finally looks up. ‘And you weren’t going to tell me.’
Guilt ripples through me, so I give him the truth he deserves.
‘William, do you know the story of our mother?’ I ask, taking a seat onanother of the chairs, still a distance away from him. ‘Do you know the tale of the Queenkiller?’
His mouth opens as he looks at me warily, but he doesn’t answer.
‘This isn’t a test, I promise,’ I assure him. ‘There’s no right or wrong answer here.’
‘I know a little,’ he admits. ‘By the time I was old enough to learn of the rumours, they’d died down. But they started up again recently.’
‘Since I entered the Retterheld,’ I reply.
‘Yes.’
‘So what have you heard?’ I press.
His lips twist. ‘I heard that she was jealous of the queen. That she thought she’d find a place beside the king if she let his wife and child die. And that’s why she did it.’
Great Goddess, that’s horrible. My jaw drops and I lean forward to him. ‘She would never … never.’ The thought alone is enough to choke me. ‘She loved our father with her whole heart. She adored him.’
‘Our father,’ William murmurs. His jaw tightens. ‘I heard that he was an illegitimate bastard.’
‘Bastard or not, he was a lord,’ I fire back instantly. ‘He was also one of the strongest wind weavers the Morathkians have ever known. And as for this rumour of Mother wanting to leave him for the king … it’s nonsense. Mother loved Father and stayed with him even when he lost his mind to drink because he couldn’t bear the pain of the death of his son – a son he adored.’
William winces at the words and I curse my thoughtlessness.
This is hard. Harder than I could ever have imagined. Not that I ever dared to imagine this moment.
Even when it came to my gifting, I knew that the Goddess could not bring back those whose power had already been returned to Mortidem.
