He was sharp enough to take the hint. “Would you like to know how my father is doing, Lady Tea?”

“How—how is your father, Your Majesty?”

“Dead.” I was taken aback by his calm. “He died two weeks ago, shortly before we left Odalia. I swore all my trusted counsel and generals to secrecy, and I intend to make the announcement once I return.”

“But…Your Majesty. How—”

“I killed him.” His admission was brutally simple. “I was surprised by how easy it was. All it took was a pillow over his face while he ranted and raved. Khalad was right. He was not always a good father, Lady Tea. He seemed strong and imposing, his reputation towering over me since I was a child, and that never went away as I grew older.

“Once, when I was very young, he had me watch while he put down a horse who’d been mortally injured. ‘If you must kill something,’ he told me, ‘then you must do it cleanly and quickly. Put it out of its misery without causing more pain.’ It was almost like that—putting him out of his agony.”

“Your Majesty.” Tears filled my eyes, my guilt bubbling within me. “I am so sorry.”

“I am not. The things that he said—they were unforgivable.” Kance’s voice grated, ax on whetstone. “I thought at first that his rantings were the result of his madness. Gibberish that had no foundation in truth. But as time went on, he spoke of deeds I knew to be authentic. About how he collaborated with Aenah and how he was willing to sacrifice Khalad for Aenah to gain her shadowglass. He would curse my brother often, refer to him as a sodomite, as not a man or child of his.

“And you. He would scream your name like it was a curse, day and night, more than he would scream Khalad’s. He’d scream about all the horrible things he’d planned to do to you, of the terrible things he still wanted to do. I realized then that he’d been insane long before you’d turned him mad. He’d learned to hide it behind hearty laughs and an occasional wave to the crowd.”

“I am sorry.”