Page 40 of Court of Secrets and Flames

She waits expectantly, but neither Agnar nor I laugh.

The temperature in the room plummets as ice crystals materialize on the walls and chandelier. As a unit, the rest of us turn toward the fourth person in the room.

Knox’s jaw is so tense, his mouth could probably double as a nutcracker. Although we’d need a crowbar to pry apart his teeth. A low-pitched growl rumbles from his throat.

Agnar releases a noise that’s half stifled laugh and half groan. He steps forward and claps his palm on Knox’s shoulder. “Okay, prince. I know not all of us are thrilled by recent events or announcements but transforming us into human icicles won’t help your cause. In the interest of not depriving our people of me procreating because you froze the family jewels off, could you perhaps dial the temperature back up a little?” His gaze flies to my mother when she peeps at his words, and he winces. “Please forgive my crudity, Lady Axton. I spent my formative years in training camps with other soldiers.”

“Forgiveness granted,” she murmurs, though I’m pretty sure he can thank her dazed expression for granting him a pass.Manners and appearance have always played a big role in my mother’s world.

Knox shakes free of Agnar’s grip. The ice his magic conjured vanishes as he stalks toward the door.

In the doorway, he pivots, a concerned furrow forming between his brows. “Do you want me to wait right here?”

It takes a few seconds for his meaning to sink in. Once I understand, my entire body stiffens.

Knox knows how my mother treated me growing up. The way she kept me at our estate, practically under lock and key. He wants to ensure I’m okay with her visit.

In the surprise of seeing her, I forgot. How, though? How could I possibly forget my mother’s role in all this and the secrets she kept from me? Her deception precedes Knox’s by decades and continued every single year I lived in that castle.

Anger and bitterness coil around me in a vice grip. “You can leave.”

If Knox hadn’t lied to me, too, I’d feel bad about my abrupt dismissal.

Alone with my mother, the gravity of our situation anchors me firmly to the spot. When chaos broke out at the Flighthaven trial, she told me to run. Did she know something was going on, or was she merely urging me to escape after the rogue dragon killed my friend?

In my mind, the silence between us morphs into a living thing, a beast grown from the seeds of betrayal and watered with the bitter tears of deception.

My mother sits beside me, her shoulders relaxing. Utterly oblivious to the powerful tempest growing inside me. “Not to be rude, but thank goodness he left. He’s very intense and moody, and I’ve already had such a trying day. Do you know how terrified I was when a man grabbed me out of my bedchamber before dawn and then leapt out of the window in the dark? I wassure we were both about to die.” She smooths her perfect hair and chuckles. “Between that and you getting taken by that man at the trial and flown off, I’ve probably lost ten years off my life.”

“Mmhmm.”

I can’t talk right this second. If I do, I’m going to lose my shit. She’s got an impressive set of balls, my mother. She must realize I know at least some of the truths she hid from me, and yet she acts like nothing between us is amiss.

Her smile wanes. “Let’s get back to the future bride to the king comment. That can’t possibly be true, can it? You haven’t even been here a week!” She tilts her head. “Although, it’s quite a compliment if the king did offer for you. Even if Tirene is our sworn enemy.”

With that last comment, my control snaps. “Funny thing about that,Mother. As it just so happens, Tirene likely isn’t my sworn enemy after all. But you already knew that…you’ve just been lying to me about it my entire life.”

Her throat bobs. “Lark…”

Conflicting emotions coil around my heart until I can scarcely breathe. “I’m a dragoncaller, Mother. And as you know, I don’t need eyril to access my magic. That’s not normal. At least, not in Aclaris. Care to explain?”

Her lips part in silent shock.

“Did you betray your husband and have an affair?”

She gasps. “What? Never!” With her fierce and immediate denial and flashing brown eyes, I know without a doubt where I got my temper from, biological daughter or not.

And I’m not. The affair explanation provided my last remaining hope that I still might be unequivocally hers, but her outraged protest snipped that hope like a piece of string.

When my shoulders droop, she leans over to hug me. I scurry out of reach. “Lark, I?—”

“You, what? You and your husband conspired to steal a four-year-old girl from her homeland and killed her father in the process? Then you used her as a substitute daughter for the real one who died? You locked her away in an ivory tower and fed her a nonstop diet of magic suppressants to hide her abilities, which had the delightful side effect of turning her into a semi-invalid thanks to the associated headaches and dizziness caused by her body fighting against the constraints on her power?”

Liquid gathers near her lower lash line. “I’m so sorry. I only wanted to keep you safe?—”

Enraged, I leap to my feet. “Keep me safe? You stole my family from me!” My breathing quickens into a pant, and my pulse pounds in my temples. “You stole my life!”

“Please, let me explain?—”

---