Page 146 of Winds of Ruin
“We risk our death, or we risk the death of all,” Lark said and met my gaze. “Time ticks against us either way. With all respect, Emmerick, this isourdecision to make.”
She rose and extended her hand to Dritan. “Husband, shall we go rest up at Lamoreaux?”
Dritan huffed a laugh. “You mean, shall we go hide out? Gladly.”
I watched helplessly as they linked fingers.
There wouldn’t be any forgiveness if something happened to either of them.
“Wait for me before you two lovebirds go face a Source Origin, please.”
Lark smirked, agreeing before they slipped out of my bedchamber. I wouldn’t sit here and sulk alone.
My next hard conversation this evening would be worse.
When I worked up the nerve to go back downstairs, the party had ended. Maids rolled away piles of linens on a cart. Trays of empty glasses and plates floated off toward the kitchen, charmed to clean themselves.
Sybilla, seemingly determined to wear a track into the marble, paced the length of the ballroom. She threw her arms up with a frustrated growl that sounded like all the curse words she could think of at once.
Krait sat on the fourth step from the bottom of the grand staircase, quietly watching her. He let her stew in her rage—I’d once tried to quell it, to comfort her. He seemed to better understand what she needed.
I didn’t give him time to accost me before I trotted down the steps past him. “The boy is my and Firose’s son. We were married in the Central Tower when she captured me and Asterie. So he’s a legitimate heir.”
Krait shot a dagger-like glare my way as he groaned and rose. I hoped Lark had inherited most of his Shadow power at this point.
I didn’t want to be turned to pulp tonight. Though maybe I deserved it.
“You had a child with the woman whodestroyedmy city,” Sybilla said. “What kind of man beds someone who tried to slaughter his people?”
I stood taller. “Might I remind you that Firose was under Caym’s influence when she attacked your city? Just like I was when I killed Sheffield, or Haward, or countless others,” I argued. “Yet you wish me back on that throne.”
I jutted a finger toward the throne room.
She didn’t get to be hypocritical.
Krait sighed and descended the remaining few steps, then he crossed the room to his wife and took her hand. “There’s nothing that can be done now. I gave Hurley an earful for not telling us sooner, but I don’t believe we would have been able to stop them even if we’d tried.” His tone didn’t hold the same contempt for the situation that Sybilla’s did.
“Where are they?” Syb pressed.
I shook my head. “She seems like a smart young woman. But she also seems to have your temper. Are you sure that speaking with her tonight is the right move?”
She balled her fists and huffed another curse beneath her breath.
“When did you find out?” Krait asked.
“About which part?”
“All of it,” he grunted.
I recounted everything from the beginning, sparing no detail, sharing even the painful ones about what Caym had been doing to me while asleep. I laid every soul-crushing moment at their feet. Sybilla’s eyes watered when I got to the part about Ryn visiting me in the in-between.
“Something tugged at me when I saw Dritan in the mirror the night they unbound me from Caym,” I concluded. “I was nearly convinced he was my son then, before ever speaking with Ryn.”
Their expressions turned to shock and worry.
“He was with Lark when she unbound you?” Syb asked.
I nodded, and Krait grumbled something that sounded an awful lot likefucking Elsedora.
