Page 94 of Storm Caller
He blinks, clearly displeased. “You brought High Commander Athira’s son to my home. You asked me to protect this Solitude. What is the nature of his presence in your life?”
“I love him,” I say without hesitation, trying to keep the wobble out of my voice.
My father grunts, like I’ve kicked him in the stomach.
“You’ve fallen in love with a Solitude. Don’t you remember your aunt?”
“No,” I say. “I don’t. I never met her. All I know is what I feel, and just because things went wrong for her doesn’t mean they’ll be that way for me. Rook is kind and good and honorable.”
“He isn’t like you, Poet.”
“But he is,” I say. “He’s more like me than I ever imagined. He’s not what I’ve been taught.” I stop, stare at him. “Did you know?” I ask.
“Know . . . what?”
“That they’re . . . that we’re being lied to?”
“Poet,” he says sharply. “Do not say such things within these walls.”
He’s shaken. I can see it. He reaches toward his glass and takes a long sip of his whisky, but it does nothing to hide the tremble in his hand.
My father is never afraid of anything.
I take a step closer. “You knew about Raine,” I say, and his gaze cuts to mine. “And me.” My voice drops so low that I’m mouthing the words.
He shakes his head and looks around the room as if someone’s listening, and it occurs to me that maybe they are.
“I need to talk to you,” I say.
His gaze bores into mine. Not here. Not now.
“When?” I ask another whispered question.
He wants to deny me. I read it in the shift of his gaze. He tried to protect me, but he still wants nothing to do with me.
“Dad,” I say, refusing to be deterred.
“I will contact you.”
We stare at each other, and I desperately want to press him, but all I can do is nod. Fine. I guess I’ll have to settle for that for now.
“Where does this leave us?” I ask, louder this time. “Do you still have a daughter?”
His shoulders tense before he takes another sip of his drink.
“You could still pledge to Fiama,” he replies. “It wouldn’t be ideal, but it could help smooth the way for us.”
“What would be the point in that?” I ask. “Everyone would know it’s a lie.”
His jaw clenches while he drains his glass, never taking his eyes off me.
“Besides, I’m happy in Aria,” I say. “I’ve made friends. I’m comfortable. There’s nothing for me in Fiama.”
“Just your mother and me.”
I nod. “Just that, but you can make the choice to let me in.”
“It’s what your mother wants.”
