She shuddered at the thought and came to stand next to Jaeros, glancing up at the room’s occupants in time to see three mutually shocked faces.

There was a tense silence, a heaviness that saturated the air the longer no one spoke. She shifted awkwardly, feeling like a weapon that’d been laid out on a table to be inspected for balance and efficiency. If she’d thought her father would run to her with open arms, embracing her with tearful affection, she’d been painfully mistaken.

If it hadn’t been for the gold-trimmed tunic and the power emanating from him, she wouldn’t have even known which of the males was her father based on their twin reactions. The third individual, a female, stood slightly apart, suspicion already clouding her expression.

“Dedryn. Jaeros.” His voice was smooth, caressing over the syllables of their language, yet somehow still holding an unyielding air of authority.

They bowed low at the waist, and she scrambled to follow their lead, realizing a second too late that she was supposed to curtsy. Amusement filled her chest, and she bit down on her tongue, tucking her hand behind her to pinch Jaren as hard as she could. He made a soft choking noise, struggling to hold in a laugh.

Awkward silence settled in, and she inwardly cringed at herself, raising up from her ridiculous bow only to be ensnared by a pair of gray eyes.

Sitting under well-manicured brows, King Vesstan’s eyes were not quite silver like hers, but a slate gray, similar to what hers had looked like before she’d connected with the crystal. His brown hair, a shade lighter than hers, was slicked back, not a single hair out of place.

His warm beige skin was clean-shaven, and although looks were deceiving with Magyki, it still unnerved her to see he didn’t visually appear much older than she was.

“So…this is the female who had my servants whispering in corners like senseless children last night.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Jaeros said, straightening his spine but keeping his head bowed. His peppered hair had draped forward over his shoulders, concealing his face from her. “She is here to claim the title of Veralie Arenaris, Daughter to the Throne.”

“That is quite the claim,” King Vesstan said, his voice pausing ever so slightly at the end, and she could’ve sworn the corner of his lips twitched. “But I must say, it is hard to refute even such a farfetched one as that with her face so clear before me.” Another awkward pause. “They truly could be one and the same. Fascinating.”

She turned her head, sneaking a glance back at Jaren who looked about as irritated as she felt. Her father was talking about her like she wasn’t even there, with little to no emotion.

His initial surprise had faded, and he now neither seemed happy nor sad about it. As if her unexplained appearance was no different than a cook announcing they were having fish instead of chicken at dinner.