“She’s several months along,” Akeylah added. “She admitted she didn’t tell you yet because she worried about the child’s viability—”

“And I’m glad that she did not,” Andros said, stunning Akeylah into silence. Now it was her turn to stare wide-eyed.

“If she’d said something sooner, I would never have gotten to know my other children.” He extended a hand, and she took it, fighting a sudden lump in her throat. “I thought I was doing the right thing, all those years ago. Hiding you away from the Keep, safe in your ignorance. Now I realize what a disservice I did, to you most of all, Akeylah, but to your sisters, as well. Zofi may never have committed such an atrocity; Florencia might have learned true loyalty for her country.…”

Akeylah tried to imagine that. A life here with Andros. A life without Jahen’s beatings. Without her siblings to follow his lead, taunting and tormenting her. She could have grown up surrounded by true family, by a kind king who, albeit flawed, at least loved her.

Who would she be in that world? She’d never know.

But she liked who she was now. Who she’d grown into, despite her hardships. “It’s enough to be here now, Father,” Akeylah replied. “It’s enough to have this second chance.”

He smiled, the stormwing’s-feet at the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “I’ll let you rest now, daughter. If you’re well enough to be on your feet tomorrow, I think we should hold a summit in the Great Hall. Confirm your acknowledgment as my heir.”

She blinked in surprise. “But Rozalind—”

“If I learned anything during my illness, Akeylah, it is never to trust in uncertainties. Rozalind and I have conceived a child together before. We lost that child. I’d much prefer a known quantity, a daughter I trust, to bear the title of heir apparent.”

This was wrong. She couldn’t be queen. She barely held the Keep together for one week. “Father, please, I am not the right choice for this. I’m not ready—”

“The best leaders are those who accept the crown as a burden rather than claim it as a prize. You are the best choice, Akeylah. The only choice.” With that, he moved to stand. But halfway from his seat, he groaned and reached for a cane propped beside her bed.

“Father? Are you feeling all right?”

He waved her off. “It’s nothing. My usual aches and pains.” His expression went wry. “Try never to age, Akeylah; it is not a pleasant experience. But, I suppose it is better than the alternative.”

He waved over his shoulder as he hobbled out.