“For her memory—”

“For her memory, explain why she made such tragic mistakes,” Arian said, scorn edging her voice. “She admitted one the day I freed you all from captivity underground. You cannot deny that; you were there.”

Amrothlin passed a hand over his face as if to wipe that memory away. Tears glittered in his eyes. He nodded slowly. “It may be easier to tell you than the king,” he said. “What you choose to tell him after—I suppose you will not promise to withhold anything?”

“Indeed not. It is his responsibility and mine to do the best for Lyonya, both taig and people, human and elven. I will not keep secrets from the king. So: why did the Lady hate my father? And why, if she did, did he stay here? Was he another of her children?”

“No,” Amrothlin said. Arian waited. Finally he said, “He stayed because he was commanded to stay. By his father. And I cannot—must not—tell you who that is, not without his permission. I have no doubt you will meet him when he learns of your father’s death.”

“I do not need more mysteries,” Arian said. She heard the anger in her voice and tried to soften it. “I need answers, Amrothlin. What was my father’s full name? For that matter, what did he name me?”

“His name … Damerothlyarthefallibenterdyastinla.” He rolled it out quickly, the syllables blending together like water over stones, then looked at her for a reaction.

Arian worked her way through the name even as she understood why he’d not told her before. “He was the son of an elvenlord? Son of someone who had founded an elvenhome?”

“Yes.”

“But he sired many children on humans … That is not common, is it?”

“No.” For an instant, Amrothlin seemed angry, then his expression softened again. “It is not. An elf of his … rank … would usually mate with elven women, and that is what the Lady thought he would do when he came here. Instead, he dallied with one human after another.”

“Why?” Arian asked. She watched Amrothlin flush again and kept her gaze hard on his. However much he might stop and start, she was determined to find out more about her father and more about the Lady from the one person who clearly knew.

In the end it took hours to drag out what still seemed meager information, though far more than she’d known before. Amrothlin, still his mother’s loyal son, made every excuse he could for the Lady and laid every fault he could on others. Had Dameroth or his father really intended insult to the Lady by refusing to mate with one of her elves? Or had they some other reason?

Some questions he would not answer at all; to others he professed not to know the answers, but instead went off into long explanations of relationships she did not understand at all.