‘Dad drank himself to death because of his broken heart,’ I cut across her, refusing to hear another word from her mouth until she hears everything I have to say. ‘His heart that would have been perfectly fine if we’d known our brother was alive and well in the High Hold the entire time.’
‘He thought—’ she breaks in weakly.
But I give her no time to offer paltry platitudes. There is no excuse for this, and she needs to understand that.
I plough on even as my breath fogs the air. ‘You understand that William is our brother, right? You have been spending every day withour brother, and Jonas hid it from you! From us!’
The draught-riddled window strikes again, but this time, it’s not just a rattle. It’s a full-on bang as the entire pane swings inwards with such force that the hinges are ripped from the frame.
What the hell?
Glass sprays around us and I jump to my feet and stare at the space where the window had once been.
Everything inside me sinks, my eyes fixed solely on the person who stands on the other side of the gaping hole.
His eyes are wide and tear-filled as his lips tremble.
‘I’m your brother?’ William whispers into the silence.
Chapter 8
Kay’s the one who goes to let William in.
It’s better than letting him run off into the High Hold with all his questions festering.
Meanwhile, Jonas attempts to jam some of the larger shards of glass back into the window like a jagged puzzle, packing the gaps with whatever fabric and cushions he can.
We have six other reception rooms in this house, not including the study and the library, and moving to one of those would be the easiest thing for us to do. But if Jonas wants to slice his hand open with a foolish endeavour, then who am I to stop him? He probably wants to feel useful, which he is assuredly not.
As William enters the sitting room and stands only feet away from me, I struggle to know what to say to this fifteen-year-old boy – nearly a man. Up until a day ago, William was nothing more than Artur’s ward, and now he is my brother.
My brother, whom the king condemned to death. And yet here he stands, his heart still beating, every breath an act of treason, and one I am so, so grateful for.
Even if I can’t find the words to say it.
And I am not alone in my muteness.
Rather than taking a seat, William stands frozen, his gaze flicking between me and Kay as if he’s trying to reconcile two versions of the world at once. His face is pale, his mouth slightly open, breath fogging faintly in the chilled air. He doesn’t look angry. He looks stunned. Lost.
The silence stretches, brittle as the ice I recklessly wield.
‘You were eavesdropping,’ I say finally, just to saysomething.
‘I was following Jonas,’ he replies, not admitting or denying the eavesdropping accusation. ‘I was worried this morning. I could tell something was up at breakfast because he was acting oddly. And he got home so late last night.’
‘So you followed him here and listened in on our conversation?’ I finish for him.
He glowers in a manner that is remarkably similar to Kay’s glares. Would I have noticed the similarities if I hadn’t known? There is no way to tell.
Everything in William now seems to screamfamilyat me.
Brother.
‘I’m glad I did.’ He continues to pout. ‘Would you ever have told me who I am if I hadn’t?’
I chew my lip. ‘I don’t know the answer to that,’ I lie.
I do.
