More than pleased. Delighted.
“Well,” he says, his eyes dancing, no longer appraising my body but actually seeing me. “This is a surprise.”
The warmth in his voice sends an unpleasant chill through me, but I force myself to smile back.
I dip into a quick curtsy, trying to imitate Iris and falling well short of her poise.
“Nice to meet you, Your Majesty.”
“Don’t you remember me at all, Maxine?” he asks expectantly.
The question steals the air from my lungs.
Nick is still in the hands of the Reds. Every instinct in me wants to ask Ethan if he remembers my mother, if he ever regretted what he did, if he knows how thoroughly his betrayal shattered my life. But those questions can wait.
For now, I need his help.
So I swallow my anger, my disgust, and every ugly memory clawing at the inside of my ribs.
“No, Your Majesty,” I say softly. “Should I?”
For now, I need him, his soldiers, and his influence. I depend on his willingness to move mountains for the son he thought he'd lost forever.
So I tuck every accusation behind my teeth and keep my expression pleasant.
“You two know each other?” Iris asks.
“Yes,” Ethan answers.
E’s hand finds my waist, and he grabs a fistful of my dress for a second, probably realizing what this means.
I school my features into those of a surprised, naïve young woman. “I’m afraid I can’t remember.”
Whatever history exists between Ethan Lightbringer and my family, tonight, he isn't the man who betrayed my mother.
He's the father of the man I love, and the king who might be able to bring my brother home.
“Oh, I don’t blame you,” Ethan says. “You were very young. After your mother died, I wanted to find you and take care of you, but you simply disappeared.”
Take care of me?
What a clever way to phrase that.
Ethan motions to the dining table. “Alright, let’s sit down and get dinner started. We have all night to catch up.”
Four servants step forward and pull out the plated dining chairs. Ethan takes the seat at the head of the table. Iris glides tohis left without hesitation, while I’m seated at his right, with E beside me in an old-fashioned man-woman-man arrangement.
“Excuse me, Your majesty. But are we...” My gaze darts down to the silk napkin tucked in my lap. “I beg your pardon. Only... I never knew the name of my father.”
Iris’s eyes widen. She nearly chokes on a sip of wine.
Ethan laughs.
“Oh, rest easy, child. I am not your father, though I would have considered it my duty to take you in if I’d been able. Your mother and I were very close for a time, and I knew how much she loved you.”
Again, no lies.
“Should I assume by your name that Mabel Bloodsinger was the one who took you in?”
