A second baby born into the same twisted legacy.
For a heartbeat, we’re together.
Tiny hands touching before we’re pulled apart.
Then it’s gone.
Pain sears through my head, sharp enough to blind me. My skull feels like it’s caving in. The dream rips away, torn to pieces until there’s nothing left. It always ends like this. When I remember her.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and hiss through my teeth.
Where the fuck did this headache come from? What was I…
Queen Lanneth shifts in her seat. “Daedalus. Are you alright?”
I manage a glance through half-lidded eyes as the pain recedes. “I’m fine,” I say.
The words are barely out before the ache is gone, like it was never there at all.
King Kaelus drags his gaze away from his queen and studies me for a moment before finally speaking. “Welcome home, son. What news do you bring from Valorne?”
Queen Lanneth’s icy gaze slides over me, piercing and clinical. A pearl choker encircles her neck, and her ivory satin gown clings to her pale skin, damp in the humid storm air. She is his shadow, always at his side, granting him no respite from her presence, and I fear she taints even his thoughts.
I keep my gaze fixed on my father, the response I’ve practiced resting at the edge of my tongue, but the words refuse to come. I rarely feel the cold, yet tonight the water soaking through my leathers seeps deep into my bones. Somehow, I know it isn’t the chill of the night that freezes me. It’s the weight of what’s coming, because I’m about to lie to my father.
“Well?” Kaelus repeats, his gaze narrowed and curious, with a deep crease through his brow. “Speak. Is it as the Maledannan feared? Did you find an Awakened?”
I clear my throat, shoving my hesitation into some dark corner of my mind. “No,” I reply, my voice even. “She is nothing.”
“She?” the queen interjects, her voice a dagger, her gaze boring into me.
“Yes,” I answer, glancing at her briefly before returning my focus to my father. “A young girl of the forest.”
“And you’re sure?” Kaelus presses, his voice heavy with expectation. “There can be no doubt about this, Daedalus. These things must be dealt with swiftly.”
Deception is no stranger to me. I have worn lies like a second skin, wielded them as tools to serve my purpose time and time again. But never have I borne a falsehood so heavy, one that carries the weight of my people’s fate. And yet, despite the risk, despite the shadow of treason that now looms over me, I cannot force the truth past my lips. Not when I know it would condemn her to death.
“I am certain,” I lie, the finality of the words feeling like a noose around my neck.
My father leans back in his chair, a slow smile curling at the corners of his lips. In that moment, I feel it. His unwavering belief in my words. The sting of my deception cuts deep, carving its way down to the bone.
“Very well,” he says. “This spares us bloodshed. An execution would only stoke the flames of their defiance, and these humans already test the boundaries of their leash. If they do not quiet themselves, the House Lords may be forced to pull them back into line.”
The queen sighs theatrically, her voice dripping disdain. “A few burned fields or poisoned wells should be sufficient to curb their insolence. We have been far too lenient with the humans for far too long. I’ve said this for years.”
My father turns to her, taking her skeletal hand in his, a gesture that sets my teeth on edge. “I know, my love. I should always heed your wise counsel,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. Her pale lips curve into a satisfied smile, and the sight makes my gut twist.
“Now, onto other matters,” my father says, his voice cooling like steel left to temper. His gaze returns to me. “Did you meet Eryndor’s children during your visit?”
I nod once.
He lifts his chin, his stern expression set. “Two heirs,” he says. “A legacy secured. A future for his line. And yet House Mordorin stands on a precipice, threatened not by war, but by your continued inaction. You need an heir, Daedalus. It is past time you took a wife.”
At the king’s words, the queen’s glacial eyes flash with interest, her posture shifting forward like a predator scenting prey.
I force myself to look past her. “I have told you. When the time is right.”
“The time has been right for centuries,” my father growls. “These humans are a nuisance, but the Lords are a threat. They breed heirs while the King’s line remains vulnerable. It’s not only embarrassing, it’s dangerous. You know how they covet the throne, Daedalus. Without an heir, our position grows weaker by the day.”
