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He waves it off. “Whatever. To this world, you’re to be that.”
“The god?” I make a face.
Caenan shakes his head. “No, the scale. The force that determines what’s fair.”
That sounds like a hell of a lot of responsibilities, and I want none of them.
If he hears that thought, he ignores it. “Now imagine the world knew that that impartial scale was dallying with one side, hm?”
I blink. “Oh.”
“Yes, oh,” he says, standing first. “Your mother took care to fuck both sides, preferably all at once. You should, too.”
That…didn’t end exactly how I expected it to. I thought he was going to tell me to keep my legs closed and never get close to anyone at all.
“My birth mother had sex with multiple people?” That brings another line of questioning. “Wait, who’s my father?”
I didn't think to ask until now, likely because I have wonderful parents and never really cared about whoever abandoned me in the woods, but now, I'm curious.
There has been a fair amount of talk about the high queen, but no one mentioned a partner, not even me.
“No clue.” Caenan shrugs. “Most of us didn't even know you existed, remember? You should ask Ryther. He’s one of the only things who were still back alive then—not to mention privy to the fact that, well, you were born.”
"Well, then. Take me to him."
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
FAIRY BARGAINS
Darina
“He’s working, as I said.” Caenan’s suddenly both stiff and uncomfortable.
“Well, what does he do?”
He shrugs. “Rule.”
I should have anticipated that.
“All the lords are gathered and his presence keeps the peace. This conclave was supposed to be about choosing the next regent. Now it’s about defining your role.”
“And doesn’t anyone think I should have a say in this?” I protest, making my way to the end of the bed, where the pile of clothing Ryther brought me is still folded neatly.
Caenan doesn’t hesitate. “No.”
I scowl. “At the very least, I should hear the conversation.”
“I mean, you could…if you’re capable of letting the grownups talk.”
My jaw falls. And here I thought I actually liked this guy. “Excuse me?”
“No offense. You are a juvenile. And a stranger without much of a clue about our world. So, yeah. Your opinion isn’t what one would call valuable.”
“I’m twenty-four!”
“Majority’s twenty-five here.”
Oh, for Christ’s sake!I think I hate fairies.
