“We’ve kept a secret from you all this time,” Willo said. “For many reasons. Partly to protect you. Mostly to protect everyone else. But now, for many reasons, we’ve decided to tell you the truth.”

Han said nothing, but sat and waited, his heart flapping in his chest like a trout stranded on the riverbank.

Willo rose and handed Han a jug of tea and a cup. He gazed at them stupidly, then looked up at Willo.

“Have some,” she said. “It will calm you.”

So he needed calming, did he, before he heard this news? He poured, then cautiously sipped the muddy brew. The fragrance was familiar, though he’d never tasted it before.

Rowan. Protection against magic and hexes. Did they think he’d been hexed by somebody? Were they worried about the jinx Lord Bayar had used on him? He looked up at Willo in surprise, but again, she avoided his gaze.

Han swallowed down more tea. Perhaps rowan had soothing properties he’d never heard of. Plants were like that. They had multiple uses.

To Han’s surprise, it was Lucius who spoke. “Boy, you remember that story I told you down by the creek? About Hanalea and Alger Waterlow? The one you didn’t like?”

Han nodded, then remembering Lucius couldn’t see him, said, “Yes.”

“Well, it was true. Every bit of it. What I didn’t tell you was that when Waterlow died, Hanalea was with child. Twins, in fact.”

“What?” This was utterly contrary to all of the old stories. Hanalea was practically a saint. The savior of her people. Somehow all the legends skipped over what might have happened between Hanalea and the demon after he’d stolen her away. “I never heard that,” he said.

“Not many knew. After Waterlow was killed, everyone was caught up in the Breaking, trying to save the world, and like that. After Hanalea negotiated the Nǽming, she went into seclusion. Wasn’t nobody going to bother her after all she’d been through. She married, then, quietly, and had the babies—a boy and a girl. Everyone assumed they were issue of the marriage.”

Lucius’s face slumped into a fleshy puddle of pain. “They were her only children. It was as if she refused to have any but Waterlow’s. Their daughter, Alyssa, established the new line of queens. Fortunately, she displayed no sign of wizardry, though it is said the gift of prophecy that runs in Hanalea’s line may come from Waterlow.”

“You’re saying the line of queens descends from the blood of the Demon King?” Han whispered.

“It does,” Elena said, almost defensively. “His blood may be tainted, but the pure blood of Hanalea is much stronger.” She paused, biting her lower lip. “We had no choice. Alyssa was her only issue. Since then, the demon’s blood has been diluted many times.”