Green eyes.
A body built for battle though he’d yet to sprout a beard.
Satordi’s breath died out and his eyes swung to Geneva, who stood much taller than she had right to, a little smirk about her lips. The other councilors stilled to stone in their seats, and Satordi’s knees locked to keep him upright as he asked the necessary question: “Did you have a son with King Sendoa, my lady?”
“No, but she did.”
Geneva gestured to Koldo.
“General?” was all the lead councilor could force himself to ask. Behind him, he heard Garbine mutter, “A bastard?” under her breath.
Koldo lifted her chin, as proud as ever. “This is Ferdinand, mychild with Sendoa. Born more than fifteen years ago. I had him while on injury leave at the Itspi. The king was on the front, aiding Pyrenee as they fought an invasion by the Eritrians.”
The Divide Conflict—where Sendoa was when his young queen vanished. The council knew what was coming next. The pieces were falling into place.
The Runaway Queen drew in a deep breath. “Upon learning of his birth, I worried about my daughter’s place and future—mine, too. Sendoa loved Koldo in a way he could love no one else. His lack of marriage all these years is proof of that.”
Satordi found his voice. “Did he want to marry you, General?”
“He asked, but I said no. More than once. I always rebuffed him—at first because I didn’t want to be queen, and later because I worried my son would die if I did.”
All eyes shifted to Geneva for confirmation of the last missing piece.
“I wanted to protect my daughter, who wasn’t even a year old. I did not think of anything other than that. And, out of love, I did something horrible.” She paused and not a soul breathed. “I stole away Koldo’s child and fled from the castle. Blackmail literally in my arms, and my daughter’s claim safe.”
As Geneva spoke, the council shifted in their seats, eyes bouncing from her to Koldo to this boy who indeed was the spitting image of his father. His nose was like Koldo’s, and the set of his stance, too—pin straight—but there was no denying who this boy’s father was.
“I ran him to the stable, intent on stealing a horse. It was past midnight; the woman who kept the stable was awake, her toddler fussing. But I couldn’t have her tell the castle where I’d gone and what I’d done.” She lowered her eyes. “And so… I ensured she didn’t.”
The stableboy’s mother long had been thought to have succumbed to sickness, her body found blue in the face, her sontucked away in their shared bed. She’d had a cough since the day she’d arrived in refuge at the castle. The boy was quickly adopted by the Itspi’s other Torrentian refugees, and his mother’s death wasn’t interpreted as anything more than simply a tragedy, further speculation lost to the drama of the queen’s disappearance. The Runaway Queen looked away as the truth became plain.
“After the frenzy of escaping with this tiny baby caught up with me and I realized what I’d done—to the baby, to Koldo, to the stable woman—I nearly came back. I was eighteen and terrified of my own decisions.” Geneva’s eyes shot up, ringed in dark blue. “But the truth was what the rumors have always whispered since—I wasn’t happy in my arranged marriage. I wanted to find love. What I didn’t know was that my heart would be filled while raising someone else’s son.”
Satordi’s attention turned to Koldo. “Were you aware she had taken your child?”
The general nodded at once. “Yes. Not in the first moments, but when the queen was reported missing, it became obvious. Then the letters began to arrive.”
Koldo reached into her cloak. Then she presented a scrap of parchment, yellowed and frayed. She held it out so that it could be read but didn’t let go of it—or the boy’s arm.
Keep the princess safe, teach her to rule, allow her to be fierce, and your son will live. Fail her and you fail him.
There was no signature, but it was not needed.
Satordi looked up from the parchment. “Are there more?”
“There were, in need of cipher usually—but I’ve burned all but this one.” She paused. “Councilor, can I be frank?”
Satordi nodded.
“I—I’m not a sentimental woman. I can’t be, with my path in life. But I am a human being, and though I knew it was dangerousto keep this letter, I did. I needed to remind myself that what happened wasn’t just a dream.”
Here, Koldo turned to Ferdinand. Her face, hard with the experience of seeing war so close and so often, softened in a way that none of the councilors had previously witnessed—and Koldo had been by Sendoa’s side for more than twenty years. His favorite from her very first days in the yard.
After a moment, Garbine broke her silence. “General, you never showed your letters to the king? Or told him you’d birthed a son? Did he even know you were with child?”
“I didn’t tell him, but we all know he was not stupid. And this castle has eyes.”
That was true—and though Geneva hadn’t gone into detail, even she had found out quickly about the bastard in the general’s chambers.
