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That pinch of confusion that had etched into his features earlier that day, when he’d been in my chambers, reappeared. He inclined his head. “What are other Hyhborn like?”
“Is that . . . is that a serious question?”
“It is,” he said. “What do you think of my kind?”
I opened my mouth, then wisely closed it.
He studied me. “It’s clear you have thoughts on this. Share them.”
For the thousandth time in my life, I wished my face didn’t show what I was thinking. “I . . . I don’t know any Hyhborn well. Actually, you are the only Hyhborn that I’ve spent any amount of time with, but from what I know? What I’ve seen? The Hyhborn don’t seem to really care about us, despite claiming to be our protectors. I mean, the Feasts are a perfect example of this.”
He drew his thumb along the top of my hand. “What about them?”
“The Feasts have always seemed more a celebration of the Hyhborn than of the lowborn.”
“And why do you think that?” He grinned at my silence. “Do not be shy now,na’laa.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“But I’m intrigued to know what you think, and youarebeing stubborn, which is so— ”
“Yes. I know. Fitting.” I sighed heavily. “If King Euros and all the Deminyens wanted to prove their commitment to being our protectors, why only do it a few days out of a year? Why not do it every day? It’s not like— ” I stopped myself then, thinking that I probably should listen to the advice I’d given to Grady and shut my mouth. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does.” His thumb had stilled along my hand. “It’s not like what?”
I shook my head. “It’s not like . . . we’re only starving a few days a year. Clearly, the Hyhborn Courts have enough food to share. Making sure as many mouths as possible don’t go hungry throughout the year would be a better way of showing us that the Hyhborn are truly our protectors.”
“And what do you know about starving?” he asked quietly.
His tone caught me off guard. It wasn’t a challenge, but a genuine question, and it had me answering honestly. “I . . . I grew up without a home— ”
“You were an orphan?” His voice had sharpened.
My heart turned over heavily as I held his stare, waiting for him to realize that we’d met before, waiting for me to even understand why my intuition was hesitant to tell him that we had.
“I was just one of many. Too many that never make it to adulthood,” I said when no realization came from either of us. “I know what it’s like to go to bed and wake up hungry, day after day, night after night, while some people have more food than they could ever hope to consume. Food they just throw away.”
Prince Thorne was silent for several moments. “I’m sorry to hear that, Calista.”
Uncomfortable with the sincerity in his voice and the sound of my name, I looked away as I nodded. “Anyway, I can think of better ways for the King to show his love of his people, be they Hyhborn or lowborn.”
“You sound like Beylen.”
My gaze snapped back to his, thoughts immediately going to what Claude had shared. “You know him?”
“I know he has said the same or very similar things,” he said, not really answering my question. “You have never been to any of the Courts, correct?”
“Nope. Never had the honor.”
His thumb began to move again, sliding slowly over the top of my hand. “Most would not find it to be an honor.”
My brows rose. He’d given the impression that there was violence in his Court, but what he was saying now felt different. “What do you mean?”
“I know what the Courts look like from a distance. Decadent opulence from the rooftops to the streets, all glitter and gold,” he said. “But as with most things that are beautiful on the outside, there is nothing but ruin and wrath on the inside.”
A shiver curled its way down my spine.
“But you speak the truth. The King could do more. All of us could and should have. I imagine we would not face these issues with the Iron Knights if we’d gone about things differently.”
