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I glare at the short woman trembling behind the reception desk while Castor, Eden, and her scowling friend stand at my side.

“W-would you like to take it?” the woman sputters.

“I would like to take two rooms. One for my bride and I, and one for my brother and my bride’s—” I glance again at Meera. “Her servant,” I decide, even though the way she fought back when I first had her arrested was far from servant-like.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but we really have no additional rooms left,” the receptionist squeaks. “There may be a spare bed for your servant in the staff dormitory, but there’s only one guest room. If you’d like to try somewhere else, there’s another inn about an hour’s ride from here, but with the snow…” Her voice trails off as Castor leans against the desk and passes her a dashing smile.

“Forgive my brother. We’ll take the room,” he says as a blush covers her cheeks.

I scowl at him. “And where will you sleep?”

“With my brother and our mate.” He winks at me before steering us away from the desk. “Sit down with Eden. I’ll take it from here.”

My gaze narrows.

“I know you’re upset, but murdering the receptionist will not make what you plan to do tomorrow any easier for you,” he whispers seriously.

I hate how well he knows me. There’s no point in arguing, either. I’ve felt on edge ever since we stepped into the carriage. Every passing tree took us closer and closer to the moment I’ve been dreaming about since I was seven, but now I’m wondering if it will even feel good at all.

Tensing my jaw, I take Eden’s hand and walk her over to a brown sofa with patchwork cushions. The little inn is just as cosy as its cottage-like exterior suggested. A tiny cobblestone fireplace warms the lobby while potted plants and lit candles decorate the rustic furniture.

Beside the receptionist’s desk is a stone archway that must lead to some kind of restaurant. The hearty smell of pies and cooked meat wafts through along with the clinking of cutlery. I’d have walked past the desk and gone straight in there if it weren’t for the dread curling in my stomach.

I’ll just have something sent to our room for Eden.

“Are you alright?” she asks quietly.

I almost laugh. After all I’ve done to her, somehow she still cares about me.

“I’m fine,” I brush her off. I don’t deserve this woman. “I’m just tired from the journey.”

She nods, but I can tell she’s unconvinced. After she said her safeword, we barely spoke for the rest of the carriage ride, even though I wanted to. I just couldn’t think of the right words to say.

“Lux,” she breathes.

“Yes, little butterfly?”

She hesitates. “Earlier in the carriage, you said you didn’t want to hide anything from me anymore,” my chest constricts, “and that you had your own reasons for wanting to confront my father… What do you plan to say to him?”

I scrub my fingers against my jaw.

“Are you… are you going to hurt him?” Her voice is so small it breaks my heart.

“No,” I say firmly. “I just want to talk with him. That’s all.”

“Good. Because he has guards with him. Always. Sometimes hidden archers too. Attacking him would be a death sentence for anyone.”

I grin. “You would care if I was hurt?”

“I would care if anyone was hurt,” she insists, averting her gaze. “I don’t like violence. This world is already cruel enough without any unnecessary fighting.”

“I will not fight your father, Eden. I can promise you that.” I smile softly.

“Thank you.” She nods. “So… what are you going to say to him?”

My smile fades. Over the years, there have been so many things I’ve wanted to say to the man who took my mother from me. And when he announced the ball for his daughters to meet potential suitors, what better opportunity would I have to make him feel as awful as I did?

A daughter for a mother.