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“Never,” Draven snapped. “Never. Why would I want that, Morgan? I don’t want your powers. I want...” He shook his head.
“What?” I demanded, pushing hard. “What? Say it? You wanted me bound to you forever against my will, is that it?”
“No! I fucking wantedyou. Just you. Alive. But by my side against your will? No, I didn’t fucking want that. Who would want that for anyone they loved?”
Loved. He’d said loved.
“But it was the only way,” he went on. “I knew you’d hate me. As I did it, I knew this would be the price. I told myself it was worth it. That I’d pay it, willingly. As long as I could save you. Because I hadn’t fucking been able to save them. I’d been useless. Worse than useless.” He ran his hands over his face roughly.
“Your wife. Your baby. Your daughter. Did she have a name?” I had never thought to ask him before. Even now the question seemed too intimate. His grief still too fresh.
“Nimue.” His voice was very soft.
“Nimue,” I repeated. “That’s a lovely name.”
I watched him, handsome face marred by grief and turmoil. Beks was gone. Rychel was gone.
I thought of what Rychel had said. How she’d only known one other person who’d had the gift of true dreaming. She’d known it was Draven all along. Why hadn’t she told me?
And now, he was the only one I could confide in. The only one who might understand.
“I dreamed of my mother,” I said abruptly. “A true dream. At least, I think it was.”
Draven raised his dark brows. “And? What did you see?”
This was the hard part. “I saw her running through the streets of Numenos. With me in her arms.” I met his eyes. “One hundred and fifty years ago. Give or take.”
Draven’s expression was stunned.
“I guess you’re not that much older than me, after all,” I said.
“How is that possible?”
“My mother blocked my memories. Orcades suggested something of the sort. She touched me and...undid it somehow.” I supposed I should be grateful. “Oh, and... I think she’s my sister.” The words rushed out. “Orcades, I mean.”
Now Draven’s expression was almost comical. “What? Orcades? The daughter of the High King of Valtain?”
I nodded. “Right. That Orcades. Is there another one?”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because my mother was the queen. Not just of Pendrath. But of Valtain. She was Gorlois’ queen first.” I paused. “I suppose she had another name then. Who was the queen one hundred and fifty years ago?”
“Her name was Idrisane,” he said slowly.
“In all the chaos of the attack, I’m guessing your people probably lost track of most of the Valtain dynasty?”
He nodded.
“So I’m guessing the Siabra didn’t hear about the High King losing a daughter along the way?”
Draven shook his head. “The High King has many children. So you and Arthur...”
“He’s a Pendragon. And apparently, I’m... not.”
“Morgan Venator is a good name, too,” Draven said quietly.
I shook my head slowly.
