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Can I do that to them? Something to figure out in the future. I don’t want them popping wood in front of the prince.
I start snapping the ends off the green beans as the door closes behind the boys. I wait to hear what Callan has to say.
“A parent shouldn’t have favorites among their children,” Callan says, smiling a small smile. “Perhaps when you’re a parent you’ll understand. You love all of your children in different ways. But Darwin’s always been my favorite. I doted on him as a baby. I barely set him down for the first year of his life. I carried him with me everywhere, even into the court hall and council chamber. He was so good. He never cried. He just watched it all with those eyes that are just like mine, just like his grandfather’s, taking it all in like he was already a wise old man. I know he doesn’t remember any of that, but it’s true.”
I look down at the bowl of green beans. My hands shake. How can a father who loves his son as much as Callan clearly loves Darwin hurt his child as much as he has?
“Fae politics aren’t simple,” Callan continues. “Darwin’s been trained, but you’re new to the game. Let him educate you, and I’ll instruct you as often as I can. You’re late coming to this, but I can see you’ll be good at it. And, of course, I appreciate that you’re already a zealous advocate for my son.”
I nod.
“I can also see you love him. As does the Tate-Wilson boy. It’s not enough, Teddy.”
I lift my eyes and meet his steady, silver gaze. “I know,” I tell him. “I’m new to fae politics, but I’m not new to the game. I know it’s not love that will keep us safe. It’s power.”
“Yes,” Callan agrees. “And I can see you have power to spare, between the four of you, but you haven’t mastered it yet.”
“Giz us a chance, guv.”
Callan chuckles. “Are we friends in the future?”
“Yes, I think you could call us that.”
“That’s pleasing to hear. I have a feeling you’d make a formidable enemy. And I don’t like being at odds with my sons’ princesses. What do you want, Teddy?”
“In, like, global terms or what? World peace would be nice.”
Callan shakes his head at my snark. “For yourself. For my son.”
“I want us to be happy.”
Callan tips his head to the side before taking a long drink of beer. “That’s a ... simplistic desire.”
“I’m a simple country girl.”
Callan snorts. “I don’t believe that for a minute. If for no other reason than I’ve had your background investigated and know you’ve barely stepped outside Manchester’s city limits before coming to Bevington.”
“Your investigators are overpaid,” I tell him. “I spent summers in the Dark Peak at the Louisa Strentzel Camp for Witches.”
“And a great deal of time at your aunt’s in Scotland. My point remains. I wish I’d kept closer tabs on your mother’s daughter and put you and my son together sooner. I could have spared you both a great deal if I’d had more foresight.”
“You know my mother?”
“I knowofyour mother. Would you like to see her? Her lord’s one of my vassals. I can command him to bring her to court.”
“She’s had twelve years to get in touch if she wanted to see me,” I say, feeling only a twinge of the old pain. My boys have been healing me right back all these weeks. “I don’t have some secret fae blood, do I? ‘Cause that would suck.”
Callan smiles wryly. He looks so much like his son when he does that. “Not that I know of. You’d have to ask your mother. But there was a time when your mother and your aunt’s names were spoken in my court.” At my lifted eyebrows, he clarifies, “With admiration. Beautiful young witches with a great deal of promise.”
“My father was a grifter from Hattersley—”
“Who got a beautiful girl with a great deal of promise pregnant to scare off her other suitors and destroy any future that didn’t involve him.”
Sounds like my Da.
“But I should have guessed that Harriet Scovell’s daughter would be someone to know. And, as you’re an age with my son, someone Darwin should know.”
I swallow hard. I haven’t heard my mother’s name spoken in nearly twelve years. Da wouldn’t allow it. My friends stopped using it when it made me cry. Auntie Jill did the same.
