Page 90 of A Vow of Wrath and Ruin

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Do you know of the Trinity Wells?”

Her eyes darted around the room, landing on each one of the servants, before she grabbed his wrist more tightly than he was expecting. Was this a warning or a threat?

“No. I do not. You would be wise to take your grandfather’s offer of marriage if you want to learn more.”

He patted her hand reassuringly, not wanting to raise any alarm bells.

“I said I would sleep on it, and I will, but I am in love with someone. I cannot just throw those feelings away.”

“You’re a king now, not just some bastard son,” she said with a tone of warning in her voice. “You have to think about your kingdom. Think of the alliances you could make. Kings will brave the seas to bring their daughters to your bed. Besides, I was in love once. Look how it turned out for me.”

Tharan tightened his jaw.

“Your fate does not have to be mine,Mother.”

“It is a harsh world, Tharan. You are old enough to know that by now.”

Tharan took another swig from his chalice, wishing he’d brought his cigarettes with him.

“I don’t want to fight with you. We have so much lost time to make up for. Let’s not spend it fighting.”

She sighed, twisting the stem of her chalice in her hand. “You’re right. We have much to discuss.”

“Where would you like to start?”

“At the beginning. You were still a babe at my breast when they ripped you away from me.”

Tharan examined his wine glass, focusing on the sloshing red liquid within. “We’re going to need more wine then.”

His mother’s smile brightened, and she ushered her servants over.

The pair talked until late in the evening, when the stars speckled the night sky. Tharan told her of his time in the sylph military and his fall from grace, and his mother told him of her time in exile with the elven mages of the Great White North across the Atruskan River, where the snow never melts and night lasts for eternity. Tharan poured his heart out to her, yet, at the same time, only scratched the surface of his life.

“It seems you have become a good man despite my absence,” his mother said, wiping a tear from her eye.

“My father did well in that regard. I think he softened in his later years.”

“And what of this woman you are willing to risk your kingdom for?”

Tharan hesitated, unsure of how much to tell his mother about Aelia. “Her name is Aelia Springborn. She is a half-breed like me. She is smart, funny, and deadly, and I intend to make her mine in the binding ceremonies of old.”

“Be careful who you bind yourself to, son.”

“I am old enough to know what I want in a partner.”

Elowen stared into her now empty chalice. “Your grandfather would make a good match for you.”

Tharan wanted to protest, but a knock on the door interrupted their reunion.

“Enter,” Elowen said, a bit slurred.

A servant girl with mousy brown hair and rosy cheeks entered head lowered. “Excuse me, my Lady, but dinner is being served in the dining room, and the king requests your attendance.”

“Well, I better not keep him waiting then. Father does love our dinners.” She rose and straightened her gown. “I, uh, I’d like to ask you for a hug, but I don’t know if that would be appropriate given our distance these last seven hundred years.”

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