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I caught Aunt Berna’s stare behind him, her cheeks rosy and eyes watery and crinkled with the largest grin I’d ever seen. Lord Castemont still hadn’t had the courtship approved by the Royal Court, but they still spent all their time together. I watched her gaze travel from me to him and back again. Tyrak sat next to her, his familiar stoic grace a steady presence in the buzzing room. He was one hell of a trainer. I hated him a lot of days. But still I thanked the Saints I had him.
“Sponsors, please collect your swords and stand before your inductees,” King Umfray declared. The sponsors crowded around a rack and retrieved the sword that would be granted to their inductee.
Lord Castemont settled in front of me and I blinked at the blade that rested in his palms. Three rubies caught the light of the chandelier, the same three rubies I’d marveled at for years now. Tyrak’s broadsword rested in Lord Castemont’s palms, that prideful joy still radiating from him. My eyes flicked to where Tyrak sat in the crowd. There was a slight smile on his face as he nodded at me. He was giving me his sword. I swallowed hard, the honor causing a lump to form in my throat. All I could manage to give him was a shallow nod in thanks.
Lord Castemont placed a hand on my shoulder. “You did it,” he whispered to me. “Not that I ever doubted you.” I fought to keep my face neutral, but I wanted so badly to smile.
King Umfray moved to stand in front of the inductee next to me, instructing him to take his vows.
“Thank you,” I whispered to Lord Castemont.
“I know talent when I see it,” he answered with a nod. “Are you ready?”
I nodded back as King Umfray prattled off the vows and the soldier kneeling before him agreed. My eyes moved from Castemont to Tyrak to my aunt, and I let myself bask in the pride that marked each of their faces as the King finished up and moved to settle before me.
My breath caught as I beheld him.His eyes… They were molten sapphire. Not quite as vibrant as the blue of my own, but noticeably similar. Hewasold, but the shape of his face… Under the sagging of age, I could tell it looked familiar. Was it the same as mine?
Was… Was King Umfray my father?
His gaze roved over my face, a flash of recognition passing his features when he noticed my eyes. His mouth bobbed open as he stared.
I stayed silent. My brows knit together as my mind careened through space, trying to add up everything I knew. It didn’t make sense.
“Belin Cal Myrin?” he finally asked me, voice hoarse and eyes still wide.
“Yes, your Majesty,” I answered with a whisper.
“My, my,” Lord Castemont interjected, voice heavy with disbelief. King Umfray’s stare stayed locked on my own. “You two… You look just alike. Why haven’t I noticed it before?”
I could feel the eyes of every person in the throne room on us, murmurs rippling through the room, our own words so quiet there was no way anyone could hear them. “You’re the eighteen year old, yes?” he asked.
“Yes, your Majesty.”
“And you were born in Taitha?” he questioned, brows furrowing.
“Yes, your Majesty.”
He surveyed me further, his gaze burning even more brightly against my skin. “Is your father…” he murmured.
“He’s a bastard,” Lord Castemont cut in. “Never knew his father.”
The King’s brows furrowed as he thought. “You don’t think…” he murmured as he turned to Lord Castemont. “He couldn’t be–”
“No, my King,” Lord Castemont answered before the King could finish. “It would be impossible.”
I clenched my jaw, afraid that I was staring at the man who gave me life. “Forgive me, your Majesty, but I must ask–”
“I’m not your father, boy,” he said abruptly, though not unkindly. “I stayed loyal to my wife, Saints rest her soul.”
Lord Castemont shifted. “Saints rest her soul. Though many kings have bastard-born sons, your Majesty.”
The King’s gaze snapped to the Lord, a sparse white brow rising. “I stayed loyal to my wife,” he repeated. There was a bite to his words now. “How dare you suggest otherwise.” The pooling gleam in his eye, the hurt on his face… King Umfray was telling the truth. He wasn’t my father.
I didn’t know how to feel.
“Of course, your Majesty. My sincerest apologies,” Lord Castemont answered, lowering his head.
The King nodded, turning his attention back to me. “How peculiar.” His stare lingered for a moment longer before his face returned to its neutral expression, that of a king. Resolve showed in every one of his features. “Are you ready to take your vows?”
