Kragar swung his axe in the air. “Move it, move it!” He jabbed it at Mateo. “Except you. You stay put.”
He gulped. What now? The royals practically knocked each other over as they shuffled out of the room. Only the King, Queen, Raelor, and Kragar remained.
Raelor tilted his head at the queen. “My Queen, are you not pleased with the inquiry?”
She dismissed him with a flick of her fingers. She left her throne and moved toward Mateo. Her steps were slow, graceful, and deadly. Her gaze scanned him from head to toe as if she had never really looked at him before. She shooed the guard from behind Mateo away.
He swallowed but refused to bow down or look away. He met her steely gaze. “Did you only now realize that I am in the room?”
With her glare on Mateo, she uttered, “The lift of the brow, the tapping of the foot.” She turned and addressed the King and Raelor. “The dark hair, the gray eyes. Even the physique.”
The King sidled forward. He studied Mateo as if picking him apart. “It is not possible.”
“Is it not?” The High Queen faced Raelor. “Possible? You yourself said she never really quite fit.”
Mateo’s thoughts collided like a storm, a mental scramble to process what they were saying. She Avalynn? Fit what? “What are you all talking about?”
The witch took slow steps around Mateo but ignored his question. “I can test it if you would like, my Queen,” Raelor said.
“I would like.”
Was the witch about to spell him? And why were they staring at him like that? His leg bounced. If he got up, could he dart out of the room before being caught?
Kragar slammed his thick hands on Mateo’s shoulders and squeezed. “Oh no, you don’t.”
Raelor grabbed Mateo’s arm, pushed up his sleeve, and raked his long nail across his skin. “Hey!” A line of blood thickened. “What is this?” Mateo tried to squirm out of Kragar’s grasp as the blood oozed down his arm. “Why did you do that?”
The witch took the queen’s arm and did the same. With a swipe of his finger, he scooped a dollop of her blood and placed it on his tongue, then did the same with Mateo’s blood.
Mateo shivered as pinpricks raced down his spine. He had heard of the ancient procedure for testing lineage, but why were they doing it to him and the High Queen?
Raelor’s eyes widened as he swirled the blood in his mouth and then swallowed. He blinked. He studied Mateo before turning to face the High King and High Queen. He tipped his head. “High King and High Queen, this”—he indicated Mateo with a deep bow—“is your son.”
Mateo’s mind swirled like a cyclone. Lady Verona and Rhyka had worked tirelessly to try and convince him he was of Strong blood. He had not believed them, not for a second. But this… this was proven. Raelor’s test showed Stromm blood ran through his veins, and blood never lied. But it was more than that. Staring at the King and Queen, he saw the similarities pointed out by the Queen. He felt them too. All of his villainous thoughts finally making sense.
Time stood still. Raelor’s claim repeated in his mind. This is your son.
His hands shook. This truth resonated within him like a long-forgotten tune, a favorite scent, or a cherished heirloom. It fit, even though he hated it.
Mateo rose to his feet, and Kragar’s axe lifted. Mateo simply shot him a palm. “Down, Dwarf.”
“Step aside, Master Kragar,” ordered the High Queen while waving the stocky dwarf away. “The fae standing before you is no mere Sublander. He is the Prince of Stromm Palace.”
Kragar’s bushy red eyebrows raised. “But my Queen?—”
“Step aside.”
Kragar rested his axe on his shoulder with a huff but stayed close.
Mateo studied the High Queen. Their similarities zoomed into focus. Her features were highlighted as if a muted beam like a spotlight flicked on above her. Dark hair, ivory skin, graceful features, and steely gray eyes. Was this his mother? Which of his tendencies came from her?
He backed away and eyed the High King. Was this his father? What part of him did he share?
The Stromms hated lowborns. They hated the Sublands. They kept people like him down. Despite his blood, he was raised a Sublander. “No.” He cast away Raelor’s blood truth like rotten kill. He forced himself to push the King and Queen from his mind and focused on Faeryn and Manny. They were his mother and father.
Manny’s dark skin, small frame, brown eyes… Mateo did not resemble him. But that did not matter. He’d always been told he favored Faeryn. What did she look like? He searched his memory for her, but her image was lost. It had drifted away. She had gone to the Passing Place so long ago he could not even conjure up her face anymore. His gut sank. How long had he not been able to see her?
“You know the truth.” The High Queen’s tone softened. “I can see it in your eyes, my beautiful son.”