“My father?” he asked.

It took noticeable effort for her to pull herself together, and she didn’t completely accomplish it, before she asked, “He is well?”

“As I am king, obviously, he is passed,” Jorie stated curtly. “Doing this not knowing he had a daughter.”

Her face grew red.

“He would have wished to know this, and he would have wished it very much,” Jorie continued.

She straightened her shoulders. “And I would have wished to know he was King of the Mer.”

“And how is that important?” Jorie asked.

“How…?” Mother shook her head. “I knew not my daughter was a princess.”

“And my father knew not that he had relations with a woman who was intent to use him to impregnate herself to give her sterile husband a child, so perhaps we can call that a draw, hmm?” Jorie suggested.

With that, her gaze shot to me. “Silence—”

“Why?” I asked.

To this, she gave little short shakes of her head. “Why what?”

“This is a pertinent question, for there are many whys I could ask,” I replied. “Why did you do as he asked? Why did you allow him to treat me the way he did? Why didn’t you tell me he wasn’t my father so I would understand why he had no use for me? So that maybe I could seek my true father and find, not only him, but also that I had a brother? So that maybe I could know my father before he was gone? So that maybe I could find some love in my life?”

“I loved you,” she said meekly.

“You loved him,” I returned.

“I loved you.” She leaned toward me, “Silence, you must know I loved you.”

I did.

Though the love she had for me was not enough.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“Because you’re here,” she answered.

“Why are you here without him?”

She looked uncomfortable and did not reply immediately.

But True did.

Lounging on a sofa with his ankle atop his opposite knee, his arm about Farah seated beside him, he said false casually, “She’s sued for dissolution of the household, due to adultery, which I’ve granted. I have as well levied recompense at an amount that would break Bower Manor if your father wasn’t in a position to have to hand over his holdings, which he has, and his land and title, which he’s done. This latter punishment I imposed considering he committed treason. His title will be held, unrepresented, until your second child is born to which you, continuing as Countess of the Arbor, can bestow on him as Lord of the Arbor, or Lady, if it is a girl.”

My head slowly turned to look at Mars.

He was tapping a bored tattoo on the arm of his chair, his eyes on True.

“That was deftly maneuvered,” I murmured.

His gaze shifted to me. “Hmm?”