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“It’s not you, Nicolo. It’s this place. It’s this life. You are not what you should have been. Simply by being here, you became like us—unlike what you were meant to be. Our contamination, in turn, contaminated you. We were your only role models and you modelled yourself to survive in the only world you knew. I only hope a pocket of the boy you were still remains.”
“I am happy with the man I am,” said Nicolo, sounding almost broken. “It pains me to think you are not.”
The queen smiled. “I love you, Nicolo, as much as a mother ever loved a child. And I am proud of you, no matter what. But that’s not what I set out to say.”
“Then?”
“Two things: firstly; I am sorry. I am sorry for the childhood I took from you. Secondly…” Suddenly the queen seemed almost overcome, sinking back into her chair.
“Majesty?” Nicolo leaned forward solicitously, but the queen rallied and sat up again.
“I should have told you years ago but I was afraid. Now… Now I am not sure I can save the succession no matter what I do, so you should know the truth.” She edged closer. “Nicolo, your mother is still alive, and I know where she is.”
The End
