Bryce loved him far more than she hated their father. Had given up privilege and power for him. What had he ever done for anyone on that scale? He’d die for his friends, this city—yeah. But … who the fuck was he, deep down?
Not a king. His father wasn’t a fucking king, either. Not in the way that mattered.
“Message received,” he said to Day.
“Night—”
Ruhn opened his eyes.
The living room was dark, the TV off, Ithan presumably long gone to sleep.
Ruhn turned over on the couch, tucking his arms behind his head and staring at the ceiling, watching beams of headlights drift across it from passing cars.
Who the fuck was he?
Prince of Nothing.
54
Sitting in her office at the archives, phone at her ear, Bryce drained the last sips of her third coffee of the day, and debated whether a fourth cup would have her crawling on the ceiling by lunchtime.
“So, um—Cooper’s good?” she asked her mother, setting her coffee cup atop the paper that held the sequence of numbers and letters from Sofie’s arm. Randall had now deemed it safe enough to discuss the boy on the phone. Bryce supposed it’d be weird not to, since her parents had just publicly adopted the kid.
“He’s an exceptionally bright boy,” Ember said, and Bryce could hear the smile in her voice. “He appreciates my art.”
Bryce sighed at the ceiling. “The surest test of intelligence out there.”
“Do you know he hasn’t been to school in more than three years?” Ember’s voice sharpened. “Three years.”
“That’s awful. Has he … ah … talked about his … previous home?”
Her mom caught her meaning. “No. He won’t talk about it, and I’m not going to push. Milly Garkunos said to let him bring it up on his own time.”
“Milly Garkunos suddenly became a child psychiatrist?”
“Milly Garkunos is a good neighbor, Bryce Adelaide Quinlan.”
“Yeah, and a busybody. Don’t tell her anything.” Especially about this.
“I wouldn’t,” Ember hissed.
Bryce nodded, even though her mom couldn’t see through the phone. “Let the kid quietly adjust.”
“Am I his caretaker, or are you, Bryce?”
“Put Randall on the phone. He’s the voice of reason.”
“Randall is beside himself with happiness at having another child in the house, and is currently on a walk through the woods with Cooper, showing him the lay of the land.”
Bryce smiled at that. “I loved doing that with him.”
Ember’s voice softened. “He loved doing that with you, too.”
Bryce sighed again. “Thanks again, Mom. I know this was a shock—”
“I’m glad you included us, Bryce. And gave us this gift.” Bryce’s throat ached. “Please be careful,” Ember whispered. “I know you think I’m overbearing and annoying, but it’s only because I want the best for you. I want you to be safe, and happy.”
“I know, Mom.”
“Let’s plan on a girls’ weekend this winter. Someplace nice and cold. Skiing?”
“Neither of us skis.”
“We can learn. Or sit by the fire and drink spiked hot chocolate.”
Here was the mom she adored, the one she’d worshipped as a kid. “It’s a plan.”
A ripple of fire, of pure power, shuddered through the building. Silence flowed in its wake, the usual background noise halting. “I gotta get back to work,” Bryce said quickly.
“Okay, love you.”
“Love you,” Bryce said, and had barely hung up when the Autumn King walked in.
“Trash gets dumped in the back,” she said without looking up.
“I see your irreverence has not been altered by your new immortality.”
Bryce lifted her head. This wasn’t how she wanted to start her day. She’d already spent her walk to work with Ruhn, needing him to explain to her twice about the plan to have Queen Hypaxia escorted by Ithan and the dragon in exchange for the witch-queen contacting Connor’s spirit on the equinox. She’d been slightly nauseated at that, but had grunted her approval before she left him on the street, telling him to give Hypaxia her number in case she needed anything. A few minutes later, Ruhn had forwarded the queen’s contact information.
Her father sniffed her. “Would you like to explain to me why you have mated with Athalar, when you are betrothed to a Fae Prince?”
“Because he’s my mate?”
“I didn’t know half-breeds could have such things.”
She bared her teeth. “Real classy.”
Fire filled his eyes. “Did you not consider that I arranged for your union with Cormac out of your best interests? The interests of your offspring?”
“You mean your best interests. As if I’d ever let you within a hundred miles of any child of mine.”
“Cormac is powerful, his household strong. I want you in Avallen because it is a safehold. Even the Asteri cannot pierce its mists without permission, so old is the magic that guards it.”
Bryce stilled. “You’re full of shit.”
“Am I? Did you not kill an Archangel this spring? Are you not now at the mercy of the Asteri? Are demons not once more creeping through the Northern Rift—in greater numbers than ever before?”
“Like you give a single fuck about my safety.”
Flame rippled around him, then vanished. “I am your father, whether you like it or not.”
“You didn’t seem to care about that until I surpassed you in power.”
“Things change. I found watching Micah harm you to be … unsavory.”
“Must have really bothered you, since you’ve seemed to have no issue with harming others yourself.”
“Explain.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t give me that blank fucking look. The last Starborn Prince. You killed him because he was special and not you, and everyone knows it.”
Her father threw back his head and laughed. “Is that what you think? That I killed my rival for spite?”
She said nothing.
“Is that what prompted you to hide your gift all these years? Concern that I’d do the same to you?”
“No.” It was partly true. Her mother had been the one who’d thought that.
The Autumn King shook his head slowly and sat in the chair opposite her desk. “Ember fed you too many lies born of her irrational fears.”
“And what about the scar on her face? Was that a lie, too? Or an irrational fear?”
“I have already told you that I regret that more than you know. And that I loved Ember deeply.”
“I don’t think you know what that word means.”
Smoke curled from his shoulders. “At least I understand what it means to use my household name.”
“What?”
“Princess Bryce Danaan. That was the name you gave the Governor, as well as the director of the Crescent City Ballet, isn’t it? And what your lawyer—Marc, is it?—called you in his letter to the Astronomer, justifying the fact that you and your brother had commandeered four of his slaves.”
“So?”
Her father smiled faintly. “You purchased influence with my name. The royal name. You bought it, and there are no returns, I’m afraid.”
Her blood went cold.
“The legal paperwork for your official name change is already filed.”
“You fucking change my name and I will kill you.” Starlight flared at her chest.
“Threatening your king is punishable by death.”
House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City, #2)
Sarah J. Maas's books
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