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“No.”
“Then someone is going to have to teach you how to balance a checkbook.”
Now wasn’t the time to bring up finances, but he was far from destitute with Delma in the grave.
“No one uses checkbooks anymore.” He smiled a little. “Even I know that much.”
“I didn’t say it was going to be me,” I joked. “Look, I’ll have to talk to the girls, but if they were impressed with your worth ethic, and if they’re comfortable working with you, I’ll consider extending a more permanent job offer.”
“Really?” His eyes brightened then turned sharp. “This isn’t a guilt thing, is it?”
“No and yes and I have no idea.”
“She would have killed me if you hadn’t intervened.” He reminded me of a lost boy. “You saved me.”
He didn’t have to use her name, maybe he couldn’t bear to speak it, but we both knew who he meant.
So much for me spearheading this conversation. “I’m sorry about Delma, but she left me no choice.”
“I know.” He stared at me, expression earnest. “Probably better than anyone.”
“How much do you know about your family’s history, particularly your grandparents?”
Aedan blinked then folded his legs under him.
“Grandfather was a concubine in the Haelian Seas court. Bastards, even royal-born ones, were given to the harem to raise, so my father was given an education worthy of a prince. He was expected to put it to use wooing women who requested his services while spying for the crown.” He gazed into the deepening night with distant eyes. “Then it all fell apart.” He shook his head. “Calixta Damaras, the former high queen, went missing.”
“And a distant cousin claimed the throne.”
“Drusilla Ginevra.” He nodded. “Everyone thought she killed Calixta, but there was no body, no evidence either way. Drusilla beat all challengers, so she’s earned the crown.” He frowned at my interest. “Why?”
He glossed over the executions, which made me wonder if he knew about them. Had the story been a lie Calixta used to weaponize her granddaughter, or was it a truth only whispered among the survivors?
Either way, for a young daemon who had sacrificed everything for his family, I owed him full disclosure.
“Delma was Calixta’s granddaughter.”
“Believe me, I know. It was all she talked about when we were kids. How things should have been.”
The child had lived a fantasy in a court of splendors, and the woman had been willing to do anything to go back, this time as a queen rather than a pawn.
“I have reason to believe Calixta might also be my paternal grandmother.”
And cause to wonder if the strength of that fallen dynasty, and the daemoness behind it, who refused to share her power, even with a mate, explained my powerful reaction to Asa, despite my watered-down blood.
Skin rippling to its natural hue, Aedan fell out of the hammock. “What?”
“I’ll have verification soon enough, but until then, I believe the information to be accurate.”
Silly of me to ever consider my grandmother might have been a common daemon when Grandfather accepted nothing less than perfection.
“We’re cousins.” He scrambled onto his hands and knees. “What are the odds?”
That his sister had urged him toward challenging Asa in order to set him in my path, thus granting her a valid excuse for hunting him—and me? None to none, maybe even less than that.
“We’re not exactly cousins.” I curled my fingers into my palms. “We’re not blood related.”
His burst of serendipitous happiness drained away. “I guess not, huh?”
