Page 116 of Heat of the Everflame

He blinked. “Wait—I am?”

“Yes.” I sighed and sat down beside him. “If I had been more honest with all of you from the beginning, maybe I could have stopped what happened on Coeurîle. You all wouldn’t have had to rescue me, and you would never have been hit by thatgodstone blade.” I took his hand. “I am so sorry, Taran. I will never forgive myself for that.”

Luther whipped around so quickly his drink sloshed over the side of his glass. “That was not your fault.”

My back straightened in surprise.Nowhe had something to say?

“Looking back,” I went on, “I saw enough that I should have been able to put together what they were up to. If I had, we would never have had that fight with Vance, and—”

“You will not blame yourself for that,” Luther thundered, his mask slipping to reveal a flash of bitter anger before he managed to lock it down again.

It was such a volatile, disproportionate response that I was left momentarily speechless.

Taran squeezed my hand, his voice softening. “I was just teasing. I don’t blame you for that, and Luther’s right—you shouldn’t, either.”

“Regardless, I owe you an apology. There’s so much I’ve been keeping from all of you—so much that I don’t even know where to start filling you in, to be honest—but I want to. You all have become my family. You stood by me through the worst weeks of my life, and you trusted me when you had no reason to. You deserve better than what I’ve given you, and I’m truly sorry.”

I looked between the three of them, trying to convey my sincerity with my expression. Luther took another drink and turned away.

“What exactly have you been keeping from us?” Taran asked. Though Alixe said nothing, I saw the same question in her eyes.

I winced, wishing I’d poured myself a second glass. I rose to my feet and drew in a long breath.

“My mother is the leader of the Guardians of the Everflame,” I began. “I think she met my birth father while on a mission for the Emarion Army, but I won’t know for sure until I gether out of prison—which I plan to do once we get back to Lumnos. I don’t know who he was, but I know he’s alive, and he knows I exist. The Umbros Queen told me so last Forging Day, when she showed up in Lumnos and told me to stop taking the flameroot that was suppressing my magic. Also, when her Centenaries came to the Ascension Ball, I released their magic to get their help stopping a Guardian attack, so the Centenaries have probably read all my thoughts and memories—and all of yours, too.”

I paused, bracing for what I knew would be the hardest pill.

“I’mstillworking with the Guardians. I want to help them wage war against the Crowns to restore what was taken from the mortals. But only some of the Guardians—the ones that aren’t trying to kill us. But I also want to help the good Descended in the war, too. And bring all the half-mortals home. So I guess I’m not really picking a side...” I frowned and shook my head. “I haven’t really figured out thewarpart yet, this is all kind of a work in progress.”

All three of them blinked at me.

“Oh, and Luther and I have been having visions. About each other. And the war. And some glowing man who called me Daughter of the Forgotten. Also, there’s a prophecy, I think. The Umbros Queen told me some of it, and then King Ulther said more, and—I’m not sure, I’m still figuring this part out, too—then everything went sideways at my coronation, and Sophos called me an imposter. Which, actually, they might not be wrong about, because there’s something bizarre about my magic, and—”

“Blessed Kindred...”

“Your birth father is alive?”

“What kind of visions?”

“You never mentioned a prophecy.”

“What do you mean, ‘imposter’?”

“And what do you mean, ‘bizarre’?”

“We’re going to need a bigger Royal Guard.”

I cringed. “I know it’s a lot. And there’s probably more.” I shot Luther a pointed look. He would have to have his owncome cleanmoment soon enough. “I don’t want to keep any of it from you all. Not anymore.”

“What prophecy?” Luther demanded. “What did it say?”

“It was all gibberish. It can’t possibly be true. Something about chains, and a debt, and blood falling on a heartst—oh.” My lips parted. “Oh.”

“What?”

“It might be true after all.”

Luther slammed down his glass and came to stand in front of me. “Tell me. Every word.”

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