“I’m getting there,” Kivrin said. “I was a wreck, as you can imagine, after what happened with Anya. It was how I gained my reputation as the playboy prince. When your grandmother passed, the House of Cruse went out of favor with the throne. Your great-grandfather had been king in his own right, and with my desolation and lack of marriage or heir, I had nothing to offer. For a time, it was all I could do to hold my head above water and keep others from invading our borders.” Kivrin shrugged and took another drag from the cigar. “Things eventually settled, and there was talk of me marrying again to secure the line. I had no interest. To escape, I told the court that I was going on a five-year journey of the continent.” He glanced to her and then away. “That’s how I met your mother.”

“Oh,” she whispered. “She was living in another tribe?”

“Of sorts.” He paused to consider and then continued, “She was married.”

Kerrigan sighed. “Father!”

“I know. At the time, it didn’t seem to matter.”

“Of course you’d say that.”

He shrugged. “I was in a low place. She was unlike anyone else I’d ever met in my life. Her husband found out about our relationship and nearly beat me to death.”

Kerrigan froze. She’d seen this. The man larger than life who had beaten her father while a woman screamed in the background of her nightmares. The vision she’d had at her bonding that made no sense at the time. Was it possible that she’d seen reality?

“This man,” Kerrigan said quietly, “was he massively tall with blond hair and wearing a white almost drape across him?”

Kivrin froze. His calm demeanor disappearing as true horror crossed his face. He dropped the cigar and grasped her by both shoulders in alarm. “You have seen him?”

“No,” Kerrigan said quickly. “I… I had a vision of him. I saw it at my bonding ceremony.”

“Gods,” he said, releasing her and running a hand back through his hair. “If you see this man, you must run at all costs. Tell me you will run, Kerrigan. Promise me.”

“Kivrin, what are you talking about?”

“Promise me!” he demanded, shaking her slightly.

“All right,” she whispered. “I promise.

“I tried to protect you,” he said hollowly, releasing her. “Your mother made me leave after I was beaten. She showed up here nine months later with a baby girl in her arms. She told me to keep you safe and that if her husband found out, he would try to kill you.”

“And did he find out?”