Page 78 of Starkeeper of the Fractured Crown

His expression didn’t change.

I felt my smile fall, my chest tighten as the seconds ticked by, his expression unwavering. “No, you’re not,” I said again, irritated that he hadn’t replied.

Nothing.

There it was again, that pure, unrelenting fear. So real, so palpable, I couldtasteit in my mouth. Every other thought drained from my mind, my sole focus on his words. “Mark isn’t…I don’t believe you.” An important rule in any court was that nobody should ever question the High King, but how could I not? There was no possible way Raphael was hisfather.

“I’ve heard we have the same eyes.”

The same eyes?

I blinked as my mind registered the color of Raphael’s eyes. Gray, but not just any gray, he was right. If Mark were standing here, they would have the exact same shade of gray eyes. The same shape. And if I were being completely honest, the shape of their lips was the same too.

Which meant that my mom and the High King…

I shook my head, heart slamming against my ribs. “No. No. Why am I here? Tell me why I’m here, please.” The air felt a little thinner, my lungs weren’t inflatingall the way. I couldn’t catch my breath. Couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t I breathe?

It took every ounce of strength I had to find any air. Every ounce of strength I had to force my hands to remain down rather than grab my chest, to keep myself from shaking.

“It’s simple, really,” Raphael began either not seeing or not caring about my reaction. “He’s my son and I’d like him back.”

The world fell out from under me. Back? “You never had him,” I heard myself say. It was sort of an out of body experience. I wasn’t in control. “You can’t have himbackif you’ve never had him in the first place.”

“The grammatical structure of my sentence means very little to anyone, Kyra. It doesn’t change what I’m saying. He’s my son, and he’s getting to the age where he needs to start learning how to run the Court. He needs to come home.”

I opened and closed my mouth, the world spinning around me. “You…you have a son,” I managed to spit out.

The High King’s eyes were emotionless. More so than Trick’s. Trick was angry. His eyes were filled with rage on a constant basis, but Raphael’s? He was dead inside. He was completely dead inside. “I don’t want him on the throne, I want Mark.”

I could feel the icy sweat trickle down my spine, breathing becoming more and more difficult with each passing second. Mark Gerodia? No, no, that wasn’t right. He didn’t belong here. It wasn’t right.

“He would have a warm place to live,”that rational voice whispered.“He would have clothes that fit him, a soft bed.He will never want for anything again.”

I wasn’t enough for him, was I?

“You never have been.”

But this Court?

“I’ll need an answer by December 13th,” Raphael said, pulling my attention back.

His…birthday? That had to be a coincidence.

The roaring grew louder as my nails dug into the chair. “He’s my brother,” I gasped, my voice barely a whisper.

“Why are you fighting this?”

“He’s my son,” Raphael stated quietly.

“B-but I’ve taken care of him,” I forced out. “I raised him.”

“And now you won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

“N-n-no, no, I love—love worrying about him,” I stumbled. “He’s…my…I can’t—I can’t do that. Please.”

He wouldn’t even look me in the eyes. “You have until December 13thto give him to me, or I will simply take him.”

And there it was. The demand behind the request.

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