Page 67 of The Stolen Crown

I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Did you consider it?”

“Not for a single moment. I’ve always been loyal to my cousin. I always will be.”

This man. Impertinent in his finer moments, but beneath the thorny exterior was a heart made of iron. He carried unshakable devotion marrow-deep, and I could not deny the admiration swelling in my chest.

“I’m glad the Ever King and Ever Queen have you on their side, Hearttalker.” I smiled. “Now, back to my question—”

“I answered multiple questions.”

“And survived. A little more will not kill you. All I want to know is, where did you live if you are not technically considered a royal? Did you live in the palace?”

Tait’s face fell, bloodless and hard. I tilted my head. What was so damning about such a question? The way the man always stiffened whenever the past was discussed left me craving more understanding and hardly encouraged me to give up.

How I wish I could. Perhaps then it would not feel like such a sharp blade to the chest whenever Tait retreated behind snarls and glares.

But he did not fully turn away.

“I lived in the palace,” he said, low and rough. “Only because Erik was the ward of Harald. You know, since the earth bender killed King Thorvald and all that?”

“What?” My mouth curled into a grin when I forced a rather deliberate gasp. “How dare you! Valen would never kill anyone.”

I could not help the laugh that broke free and echoed throughout the cavern. Valen killing King Thorvald was the genesis of the battles of our folk. Not to mention, Livia’s father was not a man who shied away from slaughter, if it was needed.

“Apologies.” I used my thumb to swipe a tear from the corner of my eye. “I shouldn’t make light of it. The dead Ever King was your uncle.”

Tait cocked his head, one brow arched. “And Thorvald forced Erik to kill his own mother before he was five turns.”

My smile faded. “I think if my folk knew how cruel he really was, King Thorvald would not have lived as long as he did.” I picked at my thumbnail. “May I ask another question?”

“Refrain, I beg of you. Asking where I lived as a child was too much.”

Another laugh followed. “You’re rather…funny when you actually speak, Hearttalker.”

“Never repeat such a thing whenever we get free of this isle, Vicious.”

I made a gesture like I was stitching my lips sealed.

“What was the question?”

“Just one. If it is too much, don’t feel the need to answer.” I hesitated. “You weren’t asked to do the same to your mother, were you?”

Tait didn’t retreat, merely shook his head. “I didn’t know my mother. Harald took the notion of a mate as something necessary until he had an heir. My mother was compensated well for her contribution, then sent on her way. Likely glad to be free of the Royal City.”

“You don’t know who she is?”

His jaw pulsed. “I didn’t. But shortly after the war, I paid a sea witch to track her with blood spells. A moment of wanting folk of my own I suppose.”

“Because you were not close with Erik, right?”

“Erik had a kingdom on his shoulders. I was loyal, but it is not always simple to unravel turns of being taught to hate me.”

“In other words, he was a wretched ass to you.”

Tait chuckled, but a flush painted the bridge of his cheeks. “I was not exactly clawing for his affection myself. By then, Larsson had found the Ever Crew and Erik grew closer to him. It’s ridiculous, but I thought it would be worthwhile to know the woman who gave me life.”

I sobered. “I don’t think it’s ridiculous. I think you were lonely, Tait.”

He sharpened his gaze. “A fleeting weakness.”