He chewed, and I knew he was giving himself time to form his answer. “I think the members of the original court have been given our chance and we squandered it, didn’t we? I am in favor of one of the children ruling.”

“Lennox, Phelan, or Olivette?”

“There is another one.”

“Who?”

“Ambrose’s daughter.” The duke cut another slice of meat. “Clementine Madigan.”

“A strange name,” I mused.

The duke only arched his brow and ate his roast.

“Well,” I said. “Where is this girl?”

“You heard Ambrose the other night at the camp. She’s missing.”

“Then she is not a candidate for the duchy,” I replied simply. “So we shall set her aside. Who, out of the three present, would you support?”

“You could also take the throne, Miss Neven. We talked about this before. One doesn’t need a claim to rule Seren, although it does help garner approval and protection.”

And that was when it hit me: what I wanted, and what I didn’t. I stared at the duke and said, “I don’t want to rule.”

“Very well.” He sighed and set down his fork. “You know of my investment.”

“You speak of Phelan.” Who was a human, not a sum of money. But I held that comment between my teeth.

“Phelan is for Bardyllis. I only need his signature on the papers to officially deem him as my heir.”

“Are he and Lennox your sons?”

The duke didn’t seem shocked by my blatant query. He only smiled and said, “You are not the first to wonder that. But no. They are not.”

“You must have some agreement with the countess, then,” I said, and watched how his expression shifted. It was only a minute change, but enough to inform me that I had struck a nerve. “And that agreement must have been forged long ago, because it seems as if the two of you don’t see eye to eye now.”

“The countess has always been ambitious,” he answered. “I’ve known her her whole life. She only makes decisions that serve her interest in the end. Phelan as duke is one of them, because she thinks he is her weaker son. She thinks she can manipulate him and rule through him. And you see . . . she has always wanted to rule. She never got over the insult that her brother was deemed more fit to be duke, and not her. Ever since then, she craved power.”

“Then who do you think she wants to see rule the mountains?” I dared to ask. “She was the one who was so keen on seeing this curse overturned.”

“My dear girl,” the duke said, and reached for my hand. “She wants to rule the mountains. She always has. A century has not changed that ambition of hers.”

I slipped my hand away from his hold. “But the nightmare must be broken before she can claim the throne.”