He hesitated but nodded. I watched as his glamour melted away, and I saw him as he was, frozen in time as a young man. And even though I was prepared for the sight, it was still strange to behold.

“It’s one of Mama’s spells, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he answered, and the glamour returned. “Without it, I was unable to stay in one place too long, for fear of people becoming suspicious of my agelessness.”

“Why did you choose to become warden of Hereswith?” I asked. “Did you want to be as close to your brother as you could? Even as the curse kept you apart?”

He was quiet for a moment, but his brow furrowed. “Yes and no. I do miss my brother. Some days, it is nearly unbearable. But I was also given an order to protect Mazarine.”

“The duke’s order?”

“Indeed.”

“He’s wearing one of Mazarine’s guises.”

“He is. As you know well yourself.”

“And he must have killed the real duke quietly,” I surmised. “And then had Mazarine enchant him, so he could replace Lord Deryn without anyone knowing there had been a swap.”

My father was silent, but I saw how my spoken revelation softened his eyes.

“How did you get dragged into this, Papa?”

“The duke found me by chance years ago, even though I had tried to melt into Endellion society. My marriage to your mother was on the rocks by then, so when he offered me Hereswith with a few terms attached, I took it.”

We both heard a sound beyond the tent. A nightingale’s call.

I knew it must be a warning from my mother, and yet there was still so much more I wanted to ask my father.

“The countess thinks we are scheming,” I rushed to say. “She’s concerned about me arriving. Why?”

“Because for the era of the curse to fully come to an end, a new duke or duchess must claim the mountains and reinstate a court,” Papa said. “The Countess of Amarys no doubt thinks I am going to try and position you as sovereign. I believe she has similar plans when it comes to one of her two sons.”

I held his stare, wondering what my father saw within me. If he saw light or darkness. If he saw truth or deceit. If he would make a case for me to rule or if he thought me too reckless, too ambitious.

And I . . . I didn’t know what I wanted. These thoughts were new to me; they swarmed like a hive, and I didn’t want to entertain them for too long, for fear they would overcome me.

Another bird call.

I stood but lingered, because I had one more question.

“Papa . . . why can’t I dream at night?”

“Because of me, Clem,” he said, rising to his feet. “Because of the curse in my blood. It runs through you, daughter.”