“N-no.” Ansonia shook her head. “They don’t. Truly. None of us do. But they were talking about how they’d been expecting this from him but never thought it would happen so soon. Grandmother said it wasn’t the right way, that he needed to go in with a real army and that he was acting without even realizing what he was doing. Then they started talking about you too, Your Majesty.” Those nervous eyes flicked to Dorian. “About whether you’d support him.”

“Support the raids?” asked Dorian, puzzled. “They know I don’t. It’s why they didn’t tell me.”

“No, support Pagiel. Fulfilling Grandfather’s legacy.”

I tried to dredge up what I knew about their family, vaguely remembering how Ysabel’s father had run out on her and Edria. “What legacy?”

Ansonia swallowed. “I swear, I never knew! I never knew who he was! Neither did Pagiel. He still doesn’t know.”

Jasmine had recovered enough to no longer have patience for the length of this story. “Damn it, just spit it out!” Not waiting for a response, she turned to me and Dorian. “Ysabel’s dad was Storm King. Our dad. Edria’s been hiding it this whole time.”

I could only stare. Even Dorian was speechless.

“Don’t you see?” said Jasmine. “You aren’t the oldest, Eugenie! Ysabel is. And Pagiel is Storm King’s first grandson.”

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

There were only a handful of moments in my life where my world had been so irrevocably altered that time stood still and I was trapped in my own shock. I could count those times on one hand. Discovering I was pregnant had been one such moment. Another had been learning I was Storm King’s daughter.

And now ... this.

“No,” I said at last. “That can’t be right.”

There were tears in Ansonia’s eyes. “I heard them,” she said. “And when I look back ... there were a lot of conversations I never understood, hints of something big between my mother and grandmother. They didn’t make sense ... but now they do. It started, I don’t know ... maybe a year ago. I remember one day my mother was in shock. She wouldn’t speak to anyone. I think that’s when she found out. I don’t think Grandmother told her until then.”

Dorian pulled up one of the chairs and sat down. He still looked stunned, but it was fading as his quick mind began analyzing everything. He picked up the wine I’d snatched from Ansonia and took a gulp. “The whole family works weather. Or at least wind and air. Ysabel, Pagiel ... you?”

Ansonia nodded at the query. “But not as strongly as them.”

“That may not mean much,” I said. “Magic isn’t always passed down in families.”