He’d wondered, too, when all was said and done if he might summon up something close to affection for the child. Part of him had expected it after the bonding when there would be no turning back, but it had yet to manifest. When he closed his eyes and imagined him, this child born of his skin, all he saw was everything he’d lost.

Rachel had made good on her promise to depart from The Aurora, and he had no idea where she’d gone. It had been six months without her, and it was eating away at the edges of his heart.

Perhaps she’d return to see him in time, but something told him that would never come to pass. He’d lost the love of his life over a petty grudge and one night of random passion. He’d lost his heart for one mistake.

“No, thank you,” Rion said, addressing Lisette’s question before turning towards his bonded partner and giving her a curt bow. “I have matters to attend.”

“We’ll need to send out invites for the blessing,” Meora said. “Since the birth will be soon.”

Rion resisted the scowl that curved on his lips. They’d have to smile and pretend to be a happy family as the kingdom’s citizens came to pay their respects to the next Primary and future king.

Outwardly, he wouldn’t let his disdain show. He’d keep up appearances, at least until his father finally expired. Garnet was weaker than ever, the Withering ravaging what was left of his body. Still, the king clung on, and Rion was ready to tear his hair out.

“Excuse me,” Rion said, and then he swept past the midwife and out of the room, heading for his wing in the Keep.

Recently, he’d made a discovery occupying much of his attention, and he could hardly wait to return to this object of his current obsession. One night he’d had a dream. He’d been exploring the vaults below the Keep and had come upon a chest. He couldn’t tell what it was in the dream, but the moment he’d awoken, he’d descended into the bowels to explore.

It had been filled with journals. At first, he’d dismissed them as pointless history, but after another dream leading him to the same spot, he once again found himself down in the vault late one night, perusing the pages by the light of a glowing yellow orb suspended in the air.

They belonged to King Herric—the last Aurora King of the First Age. It was a miracle these relics had survived for so many years, but the airtight seal on the chest had preserved the pages, though they were extremely delicate.