I clear my throat and rise, gripping the table to steady myself. “I’ll see him.”
“Where would you like to host him?” Giles asks.
I shrug, looking at him helplessly. Even after weeks, this place still doesn’t quite feel like home.
“Might I suggest the sitting room across the hall?”
“Sure, that sounds perfect. Thank you, Giles. I’ll be over in a few minutes.”
He nods and slips out of the room.
I pace back and forth, surely wearing the ornate rug thin beneath my feet. I can do this. I can face him. Do I pretend not to know anything? Do I wait for him to say something? Gods, I don’t know.
Smoothing my hair back, I take a few deep, calming breaths before crossing the hall to the sitting room. I’m glad Giles suggested it; it juts out toward the gardens, and the floor-to-ceiling windows let in copious amounts of light.
Memories of Father asking our servants to draw the curtains in the middle of the day fills me with a renewed sense of anger. I’ll let that little bit of rage fuel me for the conversation ahead. I can do this.
Sweeping into the sitting room, I plaster a smile onto my face. “Father! How lovely to see you.”
“Raelyn, my darling.” He smiles broadly, but sweat dots his brow . . . Is it just me, or has my vision significantly improved? Another effect of the godsblood running through my veins, if I had to guess. He looks older . . . tired.
Meeting me halfway, he pulls me into his arms. I blink, my entire body stiff as tears choke my throat. I honestly can’t remember the last time he’s done so . . . I swallow them down, trying to keep my wits about me. The last thing I need is for him to manipulate me. I need answers.
I can do this, I remind myself once more.
I pull away and blink back the tears before they escape. “You look well,” I lie.
“So do you, my darling.” He takes me in from head to toe, wiping at his brow with a handkerchief until he stops and focuses on my gold-flecked eyes. “Are you actually well? Have you been taking your tonic? When I arrived at the manor and you were gone, you have no idea how terrified I was. I’ve missed you so much and had to come as soon as I could to make sure you were actually all right.”
“Father, please. I’m fine, as you can see. Have a seat.” I motion toward the sitting area that is currently flooded with rare sunlight. Has the sun been shining more frequently as of late? I need to discuss this with Kian. Before my thoughts run away with me, I turn my focus back to Father and the way he’s fidgeting in a manner so unlike him. I must really have him rattled.
“Raelyn, dear, should we have the servants draw the curtains? You know the sun makes you ill.”
“Does it now?” I respond dryly.
Father continues to dab at his sweating brow. “Raelyn?—”
“No, Father. No more lies,” I say firmly and take a seat. “Areyouill?”
He waves me off as he sits down. “I’m fine.”
Seconds that feel like hours tick by as he silently peruses me, waiting for me to reveal my hand first or perhaps waiting for me to answer his questions. My hands grip my skirts, and I stare him down in defiance.
“Eloped, Raelyn?” he spits out. “That damned prince. After everything I did?—”
“What did you do?” I interrupt, hoping for some truth, but he just keeps going.
“And now my firstborn?—”
“But am I?” I demand, finally getting him to stop. “Stepmother told me without any hesitation that I’m a bastard.”
Father flinches. “That was not her secret to tell.”
“So it is true.”
His silence is deafening. To finally hear it from him hurts in a way I can’t explain.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” I ask, unable to hold back the tears welling up in my eyes all over again. “Do you have any idea how many questions I have?”
