Chapter 6 The Bastard
The Bastard
Isat there, trying to process everything he had just said. The more I understood, the angrier I felt.
“So your entire reason for keeping me alive was to convince me to come to Alarna?”
He smiled, calm and unbothered. “Essentially, yes.”
“That’s not all of it.”
The ease in his expression thinned. “It’s enough of it.”
I frowned. “How did you even know where I was?”
“The moment rumors began circulating about Veynar’s princess with golden eyes and the Mark of Forizan, it was clear it was probably you,” he said. “That, combined with what I already knew of your family. Uralish isn’t easy to forget.”
I frowned. “Who is Uralish?”
Something like a smile touched his mouth. “Your uncle. Your mother’s twin.”
I drew in a slow breath, forcing the reaction down before it could show. “Why were you there the night of the tavern massacre?” I asked.
“I had already been moving through Rathmor by then,” he said. “I knew you were planning to sneak out. It wasn’t difficult to follow you.”
I closed my eyes, trying to stay calm.
“Were the Threns who massacred the tavern sent by your uncle?”
“No,” he said easily. “I have a cousin. My uncle’s son, Prince Avaneer. He tends toward cruelty when he’s bored.”
Something in my chest tightened.
“His father sent him to Veynar before me,” Teorin continued. “To locate something we’re looking for.”
“What are you looking for?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Something Sevrin has. I need it. It has nothing to do with you.”
That answer only made me more uneasy. “But that’s why Avaneer and his men were there,” he went on.
“His father had him stationed near the Baron’s woods to assist with it for a time.
He failed, of course. He tends to ruin whatever he touches.
” He paused. “And he is not fond of…the elements. Nature and the like.”
His voice shifted slightly, not softer, but edged with something closer to disdain. “The wagon you were on…” He exhaled. “He would have fed on your soul.”
A chill moved through me, deeper than the cold had earlier. I took a breath, steadying myself. “How were you able to find me every time I was in danger?”
“The night Avaneer attacked Tellys was chance,” he said. “I already knew you were going there.”
He gave a small shrug. “After that, I used your mother’s pendant.”
The realization hit immediately. “That’s why you were so insistent on me giving it to you.”
“Yes.”
My grip dug into the blanket, though this time it had nothing to do with weakness.
Everything fell into place all at once. None of it had ever been for me.
Not once. “So you never cared about my well-being at all,” I said, my voice quieter now but far more controlled.
“You just needed me to come to Alarna so the bond could happen.”
I held his eyes. “So that the Threns can win the war.”
He laughed, cold and certain. “Precisely.”
"Is Alarna really safe?" I asked. "Or was that another lie?"
He smiled, as though the answer amused him. “It’s safe if I’m there to protect you.”
I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms.
“I’ll be there,” he continued. “So no harm will—”
My power lashed out. It struck him before he could finish, lifting him off his feet and throwing him across the room hard enough that the impact echoed against the walls. The movement shocked even me, the force of it sharper than I expected, cleaner, more immediate.
He hadn’t been ready for it.
At first, neither of us moved.
Then he stood. Slowly. “I could not keep you safe in Veynar,” he said, his voice lower now, stripped of whatever ease had been there before. “And complete the other part of my mission quietly. It was… inconvenient.”
“It was easier to let others finish it and bring you myself,” he continued.
Something in my chest tightened. “And get me away from Colsar.”
He smiled. “Yes. Your precious Colsar was always going to present a barrier. I expected it to be more difficult than it was, but my brothers made my work easy. He abandoned you, and his brother starved you.”
“He didn’t abandon me,” I said quietly.
Something in him changed. The air around him turned colder, tighter, like something had narrowed behind his eyes. “Colsar Rathmor has always been selfish,” he said. “Cruel.” There was no humor in it now. “And unfortunately powerful enough to make it matter.”
I said nothing.
"He has always treated women as disposable, and burying himself in a golden cunt has not changed that.” He let out a low laugh. “You are na?ve to think you would ever matter to him, Asharin.”
He stepped closer. “But I can tell you this,” he said, his voice quieter now, more controlled. “None of this is my fault. He left you. He placed you in the hands of a brother who was more than willing to let you be broken.”
The words pressed in on me, heavy and suffocating.
He smiled again. “You will raise that child alone,” he said. “If it even lives.” He laughed. “In either scenario, he is to blame.”
“You should know, Teorin,” I said quietly. “They call you the bastard of Rathmor for a reason, do they not? It is a good thing you were raised among savages, because had you lived in Veynar you would’ve spent your life licking my husband’s boots.”
Teorin clenched his fists, his eyes flashing red in a way that startles me. His voice is calm. “You do not know what you are talking about.”
“Your mother was nothing more than your father’s side whore,” I spat. “Do not posture in front of me about my husband when you’re a bastard with no real claim. A bastard whose only ascent to anything meaningful needed to involve manipulating a vulnerable woman.”
“Asharin, I—”
My hands tightened against the bed. “Fuck you.”
“Fuck you too,” he roars.
I have never seen him lose control, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me startle.
The room falls silent.
“Colsar is the most selfish person I know,” he said, voice low. “He is not going to walk through a sea of undead for you. Or for anyone.”
He laughed softly. “And even if he tried, I can assure you he would not survive it.”
The color drained from my face. “What do you mean?”
He stopped. "This ship is compromised. We are no longer cloaked or warded. We are transferring to a Thren vessel.” He paused. “The Vethara.”
As though the name of the ship matters.
“It has already arrived.”
He didn’t pause. “Nyara is already aboard. You won’t see her again until we reach Alarna. We will separate those with power from those without.”
I let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Colsar will still find—”
“No,” Teorin said, cutting me off.
“He won’t.” His voice carried a certainty that made my chest tighten. “When we leave this ship, we will set it on fire,” he continued. “A distraction. Everyone will believe we died here.”
He sighed. “Some of the elderly have volunteered to stay. They would rather burn on Eravic’s ship than set foot on a Thren ship.”
So would I.
“And the undead will come,” he added. “They will gather at the promise of food. By the time they are finished with this wreck, their numbers will have grown.”
He held my eyes. “By the time your Colsar hears of it, if he even chooses to act, he will be walking into something far worse than what you see now.” He looked almost satisfied. “And that,” he said, “is not something he survives.”