Page 31 of Queen's Griffon

“Ever think she acted of her own volition?”

“No.” Avera shook her head. “You’re wrong about Opal. You didn’t meet or speak with her. She was nice.”

“So are many murderers, doesn’t mean they don’t have a dark streak.”

Avera’s head ducked as they walked back to the castle. “Why would she send me for the stones if they weren’t needed as seals?”

“Maybe because she wanted you to die? Or maybe the stones were never stolen to begin with. After all, you only have her word on that score. Ever think the objects you’ve been sent tofetch might belong to Verlora, and this Zhos needs them for its escape?”

“You sound like Gustav,” she grumbled.

“The soldier you had as bodyguard.” Stated more than asked.

“He was more than that. He was the only father figure I had growing up. The only person I could confide in, not that I ever confessed much.”

This wasn’t the first time she’d revealed a less-than-ideal childhood.

“Was your bastard status really that big of a deal?” he queried. In Verlora they’d been more casual about relationships. Some chose to marry. Some didn’t. But all children were considered a blessing.

“It was more than simply the fact that my mother had me out of wedlock. From the moment of my birth, people knew I wasn’t pure Daervanian. My brother saw me as a stain on the name. My sisters treated me like an embarrassment.”

“Hearing that makes me happy I was an only child.”

She glanced at him. “You mentioned your father died the day Verlora fell. What of your mother?”

For a moment, he debated not replying. Then the words spilled. “My mother suffered from several ailments. Not so much physical as mental. She claimed to hear voices. To see things that hadn’t happened. I was told that when I was born, she took one look and began wailing. Couldn’t be consoled.”

“Oh dear,” Avera murmured. “I think that might be worse than being ignored by mine.”

“Oh, she did that too. My mother wanted nothing to do with me, and the few times we crossed paths, she’d usually start pointing and screaming, ‘He rides upon the wings of death.’” His lips twisted. “At the time, I was barely walking.” And he’d been frightened. To have someone so shrilly hate him had left a mark on Griff even to this day.

“That’s horrible.”

“She was sick, or so I kept being told. I was too little to understand other than the woman who should have coddled me hated the sight of me. My father had her removed from our home after she tried to drown me in the tub. I never saw her after that for she took her life before I turned four.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. At least then she was finally at peace.”

“My mother pretty much ignored me and then had the temerity on her deathbed to claim I was her favorite.” A wry twist pulled her lips. “She hid it well. Although, my brother must have sensed this invisible favor for he was constantly trying to hurt me until Gustav put a stop to it.”

His turn to mutter, “Sorry.”

“Guess we both had poor childhoods. It’s part of why I am so attached to Luna.”

“The horse.”

“A gift from my mother.” She nodded. “These past few years, she was the one constant in my life that freely showed affection.”

“I thought Gustav was a father figure.”

“Yes, but not one that ever hugged. The best I could expect was praise if I fought well when training.”

“My father was a stern man, but I always knew he cared. He was the one to ensure I got on a boat the day Verlora fell. I never saw him again.”

“Perhaps he managed to survive.”

“And never sent word?” He shook his head. “I gave up on that foolish hope a long time ago.”

---