Page 42 of First Light

Carys asked, “Why were you brought up here?”

“The Queens’ Pact.” Aisling smiled. “Centuries ago, the four queens of Éire, Cymru, Alba, and Anglia grew tired of the fighting and forced their kings to make peace. As a guarantee of that peace and goodwill,they each sent one of their children or a relative like a niece or nephew to the other three courts.”

Duncan added, “The idea being if you knew one of your children was in the foreign court, you’d be more hesitant to start a conflict with that country. It happened in our world too.”

Carys remembered from her studies of history that hundreds of years ago, childhood fosters were not uncommon among the aristocracy. Odd to think that the practice had continued in this alternate realm, but it was just another confirmation that humans weren’t all that different whether they were living with magic or science.

“My mother isn’t a queen,” Aisling continued, “but my grandmother is, and my mother is married to an Anglian lord.” She turned to Carys. “My aunt is related to Seren.Was.” Her expression fell a little. “My Aunt Eamer is the queen consort of Cymru. She was Seren’s stepmother.”

Carys blinked. “Wait, what?”

“It’s complicated, isn’t it?” Aisling smiled. “There are family trees in the library if that would help.”

Duncan quickly added, “Queen Orla was very good at making strategic marriages for her daughters. Aisling’s father isn’t just a lord—he’s a very powerful lord in Northumberland who has the ear of the Anglian king.”

“And I’m their third child,” Aisling said. “So I’m a humble apprentice mage in the Alban court who still fumbles with my potion ingredients at times.” Aisling’s dimples softened the sharp angles of her face. “But more importantly, Seren was my best friend, closer than my sisters even.” Aisling pushed her mount closer to Carys’s. “I know you’re not Seren, and this is all so confusing, but I do hope that we can be friends.”

Carys was back in the portrait gallery in her mind, staring at the wedding portrait of Seren and Lachlan.

Nêrys Ddraig, princess of Cymru.Aisling said her aunt was the queen of Wales. Cymru.Seren’s stepmother.

“Nêrys ddraig,” Carys whispered.

“It’s a titleof a dragon lord or lady,” Aisling said. “One who can bond and speak with?—”

“Princessof Cymru.”

Aisling nodded. “Yes. Seren was raised here like I was, but when her ability to speak to dragons matured, she went back to Cymru with her father and trained?—”

“So Seren’s father is the king of Wales.” Carys’s head whipped around to Duncan. “Cymru. Seren’s father is the king of Cymru?”

Duncan raised a hand. “Carys, he’s not the same man?—”

“Is he my father? Is he his twin?” A mad hope surged in Carys’s chest. “Is my mother…” She blinked. No. In this place, Seren’s father was married to an Irish—Éiren—woman. That couldn’t be her mother’s twin. But if her father…

“King Dafydd is the Lord of Gwynedd and the high king of Cymru.” Aisling’s voice grew quiet. “He’s a strong man of medium height with dark curly hair and a strong nose. Seren had his eyes. You… have his eyes.”

Carys had her father’s eyes.

She turned to Duncan. “Duncan, I think in this world my father is alive.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Surely you must understand the irony.” Duncan’s voice boomed on the other side of the heavy wooden door. He was sitting on a bench outside the dressing room where Carys was taking a bath. She didn’t know why she wanted the grumpy man close, but she did, and Duncan seemed reluctant to let her wander far even in a castle surrounded by guards.

Guards you managed to elude today before escaping to the forest.

They seemed to be watching a little more closely since she’d returned.

“What irony?” Carys poured the steaming water through her hair. After the fight with the kelpie, the long trek on horseback, and hours of walking in too-big shoes, the warm water brought tears to her eyes.

Even after Yasmin’s healing, she was sore everywhere, and the bed in the room outside looked like heaven.

“The irony that you want to stay here now so that you can meet your father’s twin—hoping for some kind of connection—when that’s exactly why you’re angry with Lachlan.”

The cup she’d been holding fell in the water.

Dammit.

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