“No. I think you are his saving grace. If you know about the rumors, you know some of it, but not all.”

“I want to know it all,” Cordelia said, and Matthew, staring at the wall next to her bed, said in the same low, toneless voice, “All right, then. We were at school. Too young to know the power of words, perhaps. When Alastair came around, saying things about my mother… saying Henry was not my father, that instead I was Gideon’s bastard…” He shook his head, his entire body tensing. “I thought I would kill Alastair right there. I didn’t, of course, but—” He cast the pillow aside. “The awful thing about it was that once I had the idea planted in my brain, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. My father was injured before I was born; I had only ever known him confined to his chair. Nor do I resemble him at all. It began to consume me, the wondering… and one day I gathered my courage and went to the Shadow Market. I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for, but in the end, I bought a bottle of ‘truth potion.’

“The next morning I put some in my mother’s food. I thought I would ask her to tell me who my father was, and that she would either not realize she was under a spell, or she would forgive me and understand that I deserved to know.”

Matthew let his head fall back. He stared at the ceiling as he said, “It wasn’t a truth potion at all, though I suppose you could have guessed that. Whatever it was, it was poison, and… my mother was pregnant. I didn’t know it, of course, but whatever I gave her, it caused her agony, and she—she lost the baby.”

Horror jolted through Cordelia. “Oh, Matthew,” she whispered.

He didn’t pause, his breath catching on his words. “The Silent Brothers were able to save my mother, but not my sister. My mother has not been with child since, though I know my parents have hoped and tried.

“That very day, I learned the truth—that I was without a doubt my father’s son. It had all been a stupid rumor. I was drowning, speechless, shattered. My father assumed I was struggling to make sense of the loss. The truth was that I was horrified by my own actions, disgusted by my lack of faith in those closest to me. I swore to myself that I would never tell anyone, not even James. And I decided that I would never forgive Alastair, though I blamed myself so much more than I ever blamed him.”

At last, he looked at her. “That’s the story, Cordelia. That’s my secret. You hate me now, and I can’t blame you. I can’t even ask you not to tell James. Do whatever you must. I will understand.”