Chapter Forty-Nine Garrick
Chapter Forty-Nine
Garrick
Riela’s eyes widened and her breath caught, then she shook her head as her confidence returned. “That’s impossible. It was
dark. You must be mistaken.”
I wasn’t, but I was less sure if she was truly ignorant or if she was lying to protect herself. If she was lying, then her
secret meeting with Mar made a lot more sense.
“Maybe King Roseguard swapped in a different portrait,” she rushed to add. “As I said, I couldn’t see it, only the frame.”
She was still grasping for an explanation other than the obvious—or trying to deflect suspicion. I didn’t let any of my doubts
leak into my voice or expression. “Describe the woman in your painting.”
Her face softened and turned wistful. “Growing up, I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world.” She chuckled
sadly. “I still do. Her hair was darker than mine, nearly black, but it had the same wave. Her face was a little sharper,
her cheekbones more pronounced. And she was wearing a vibrant blue dress, the color of a cloudless sky.”
It was the same woman. Feylan had not swapped the paintings. The pieces clicked into place, and I swiftly began altering all
of my plans and strategies. There was only one way to protect Riela now, and as much as I might tell myself I didn’t want
to do it . . . I did.
Very much.
It had been all I could do to resist her offer of a betrothal bond. Now I wouldn’t have to. My fists clenched against the
urge to move, to act right now to keep her safe.
Riela raised her chin and demanded, “Well? Was it the same woman?”
“It was.”
Her nerve failed, and she shook her head. “That’s impo—”
“Impossible, I know,” I interrupted. “Except it isn’t.”
The color drained from her face, and she gave another tiny shake of her head. Then she sucked in a deep breath and clenched
her fists and her jaw. After a moment, she looked at me again. “Was she human?”
I could see the desperate hope in her face, but I wasn’t sure which answer she wanted. I gave her the truth. “She was not.”
Her breath stuttered, and she pinched the bridge of her nose as her head bowed. “Are you sure?”
Despite my concerns, I couldn’t ignore the agony in the question. I pulled her to her feet and wrapped her in my arms. She
burrowed into my shoulder and hid her face. Her breath hitched again, and claws of pain raked through me. “I’m sure,” I murmured.
She lifted her head. Her eyes glimmered in the firelight, but the tears hadn’t spilled over. She studied me carefully. “If
you are lying about this,” she said, her voice wobbling, “then I will find a way to make you pay.”
“She was Etheri. I am sure, and I am not lying.”
Riela stumbled away, and I gripped the edge of the desk so I wouldn’t reach for her. She paced back and forth in front of
me, her face almost angry. “Why would my father lie?” she asked, but she was talking to herself more than to me.
I answered anyway. “To protect you. The same reason your mother bound your magic.”
Her gaze jerked to me, sharp enough to cut. “You don’t know that.”
“I don’t,” I agreed easily. “But it makes sense.”
She resumed pacing. “None of this makes sense. I was supposed to kill a monster in the woods, that’s all. I wasn’t supposed
to get trapped. I wasn’t supposed to find out Etheri actually exist. And I certainly wasn’t supposed to end up questioning
my entire life!”
Her anger burned out with her words, and she blew out a sigh and reluctantly settled back into her chair. Her shoulders were bowed, and I ached with the need to gather her close. “Tell me the rest,” she whispered. “You must have suspicions. I might as well hear them all.”
“Did you truly not know?” I asked again.
She closed her eyes, torment on her face. “I did not know. And I still don’t completely believe you, so I guess Vastien isn’t
the only one with trust issues now. But why would you lie?”
The last question was soft, like she was trying to convince herself, and pain knifed through my chest at the heartbreak in
her tone.
“Maybe I should go visit the Blood Court,” Riela whispered. “Find out the truth—”
“Absolutely not.” The snarled words were ripped from me before she was done speaking.
Her eyebrows rose and her expression hardened. “Tell me what you know.” This time it was a command. “Who was she? Is . . .”
She cleared her throat and tentative hope bloomed across her face. “Is she still alive?”
Killing that hope made me feel like the worst kind of monster, but she deserved to know. “I don’t think so. She disappeared
nearly thirty years ago . . . likely right around your birth.”
Riela’s shoulders slumped as fresh grief settled onto her delicate features. “Tell me the rest.”
“Her name was Inna,” I started, and Riela’s eyes widened in recognition before closing in resignation. She waved a hand for
me to continue without opening her eyes.
“She was the Sapphire Queen’s sister.”