Page 112 of Captive of the Stolen Empire

“I didn’t notice it at first either,” Ilya said, taking his hand in hers. “Not until we went to Trale.”

Gabriel paled. “He can’t be.”

An invisible hand gripped my throat as I swallowed through the scrutiny of his pinched brows. Would he want to know the truth? His kin attacked his home, took him hostage, and tortured him. It might be better if the nephew he once knew stayed dead.

I looked to Ilya, her unwavering gaze and clear eyes. Solid. True. We’d almost lost each other over lack of trust and hidden secrets. A gap still lingered between us, one I ached to bridge.

Whatever the result, Gabriel deserved to know the truth. Lies wouldn’t help us.

“I believe so,” I said, rolling up the fabric of my sleeve to show my birthmark—one that marked me as Gabriel’s lost nephew. I believed it now that my memories had begun to clear. This close to Gabriel, I could see the familiarity, the shape of a younger face I almost remembered.

“Bastien.” He swayed on his feet. “I…we always thought you…”

“I didn’t know.” My words were heavy, almost difficult to speak. He looked at me with wonder, like family, like a father. In all my years, the emperor had never quite looked at me like that, and it evoked emotions I couldn’t begin to sort through in the moment. “Ilya figured it out. The emperor led me to believe I was an orphan. He twisted my memories until I believed it myself.”

“Zurina was the same way,” Reyna added, sliding into the conversation. She gripped Gabriel’s shoulder in a show of support.

“Were you all?” Gabriel’s attention shifted to Warren.

“Perhaps. I don’t know,” Warren admitted. A sad smile touched his lips. “If I had another home once, no one has been able to reveal those memories for me.”

Gabriel’s face took on a sudden hardness. “And you knew all this before you let them drag Ilya into that arena?”

It would have hurt less if he’d kicked me between the legs.

“I wasn’t tortured,” Ilya confessed. “Not by him, nor by Brishon. Whatever he showed the crowd, I never saw it.”

Gabriel shook his head. “But you were in pain before we left.”

My teeth ground together as I fought the urge to punch something. My fault. If only I’d gotten to her sooner.

“Because Orson tried to accost me in the cells, but Lucien arrived just in time.” Her eyes captured mine and held them. “If he hadn’t…” She looked away.

I’d have never forgiven myself.

“No wonder he dressed you all up in armor.” Nyke stood in the doorway. How much had he heard? Dark hair, with a few strands of grey woven in, fell to his tanned ears. His bearing spoke of pride. Not even his worn and dirty clothing could disguise the warrior underneath.

“You know, I received another letter before Zurina’s.” He pulled a thin missive from a pants pocket and held it in the air. “Sent by Lord Stefan of Trale.”

Father.My stomach dropped. My real one, whose people I’d slaughtered.

“Brother,” Gabriel said.

Nyke nodded. “He said his wife, Lady Basilla, believed her son alive, and none other than the emperor’s first-in-command. Apparently, a visitor confirmed her suspicions.” His gaze landed on Ilya.

My attention snapped to her. “When?” And how in the name of The Four had I missed something so significant?

She bit her bottom lip, a hint of color creeping to her cheeks. “Just before we left Trale.”

Lady Basilla passed along a comment about how handsome and strong Emperor Ryszard’s guards looked this trip. I merely stated my agreement.Ilya’s words had caught me so off guard I hadn’t questioned them. I smirked. “Clever.”

“Is there more?” Gabriel asked.

Nyke looked to me. His weighty silence stole the brief joy of moments ago. There was more, something I wouldn’t like. I’d lost one father by my choices, but somehow, losing another suddenly felt so much worse. Of course he wouldn’t want a son who’d raised arms against him.

“He asked me to spare you if we met on the battlefield,” Nyke said. “To bring you to him alive.”

Resignation chilled me. “For what purpose?”

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