Page 27 of The Labyrinth and the Threaded Daughter

“No,” he trailed off in thought.

“I have not said your name. Nor has the other heir you encountered. Yet you have said his and mine.”

Corin thought back to when he was fighting the Minotaur. He could have sworn she had said his name. “But why? Why does the Labyrinth not like names?”

“It remembers them,” she explained as if the idea was simple. “Names give shape. Power. Intention.” She met his eyes. “If I name you, the Labyrinth will decide what you are to it.”

“And right now?”

“Right now,” she said quietly, “you are only the heir. It is best you stay that way for as long as you can.”

“But I could say Bristle.”

“Yes.”

He squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. “That does not make any sense.”

“I cannot explain it any more than I have, for that is all I understand.”

Corin let that settle. It didn’t satisfy the confusion lacing through him, but he supposed it was the best he would get for now. Perhaps ever.

“The Minotaur,” he choked out as he opened his eyes to watch her again. “Why did you beg me to stop?”

Her breath caught. For a few countless moments, she said nothing. Then, she stood and crossed the chamber, placing the bowl down on an outstretched stone and resting her hand on the sun-warmed stone as though steadying herself.

“He is not the Minotaur,” she bit out finally. “Not to me.”

Corin’s throat went dry. “You said–”

“He is my brother.”

X

Ariadne’s words landed heavy and final.

“W-what?”

She sighed, waving her hand in the air. “I know your legend must tell of it. He was born cursed,” she explained. “Not really monstrous. Or cruel. Just… changed.”

“Mi–” Corin paused, trying to think of a different name for the original king, for her father. “Your father…”

“My father is the reason he is what he is,” she spat.

Corin shot back. “He is…” He ran his fingers through his hair as understanding dawned on him. A shiver ran down his spine. “You watched me try to kill him.”

“Yes.”

“And that’s why you were trying to stop me.”

“I tried,” she confirmed, turning back to him. Her eyes were bright with anger. “You did not listen to me.”

Silence stretched between them as Corin tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. The monster he had grown up hearing about, the beast he thought he needed to kill, was the brother of this… angel in front of him. Of this woman who Corin could hardly stop looking at. The woman who saved him.

“I thought killing him was the way out,” Corin said hoarsely.

“It has been,” Ariadne replied. Her shoulders lifted. “For others.”

“But not for me?”