CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Asher blinked, struggling to believe what he saw with his very own eyes.
The advisor stumbled back, his eyes darted from the male before him to Asher, then back again. His brain obviously faltered to process what they were seeing.
The male had a smile on his face that was Asher’s own, beautiful and masculine. By his side stood an equally beautiful lady who, although older, still shone with vigor and vitality. He had forgotten a Winter trait was height. Even if she wasn’t nearly as tall as the male next to her, she was taller than most females he had met in other Quartaine’s.
The male’s smile fell when his gaze landed on Asher. His hand suddenly clasped at the hilt of the beautiful sword strapped to his hip. He quickly unsheathed the blade and expertly pointed it at Asher. The blade an extension of his arm. His mirror image stepped in front of the female, protecting her and hiding her from Asher’s sight.
A range of emotions played over the male’s face.
Confusion was the main one washing over Asher. As he stood facing the new arrivals, he quickly assessed both and found he didn’t need to reach out to see what they were feeling. This male either knew nothing of masking his emotions, or he just didn’t care.
“My Lord...?”
The advisor stumbled over his words as he stood between both males. He was flustered and as confused as Asher. Swallowing thickly, the male glanced between them before quickly moving towards the doorway, pulling a dagger free from his side and pointing it at Asher.
“I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but someone better tell me. Why is there a male in my room, and why the fuck does he look like me? Is this some scheme you have cooked up, Bailey?”
Glancing over his shoulder to check on the female behind him, the new arrival froze, his brows pulling together.
“Mother?”
Asher’s breath caught, his heart hammering against his ribs as his mind raced to process what he was seeing. It was obvious who the male was, but what wasn’t obvious was why when he looked at him, it was like looking into a mirror.
“I did tell you I wasn’t who you thought I was.”
Even in his confused state, Asher couldn’t resist pointing out the fact that he had not lied. His eyes remained locked on the male and female though his words aimed at the advisor as he continued, “But you insisted.”
Even with two blades pointed at him, Asher felt no threat. He knew it would take more than these two males to take him down. But to set their minds at ease, to attempt to show he meant no harm, Asher raised his hands up to show he was no threat.
“Nice rooms by the way.”
Asher’s playful smirk, along with his body language, was plain for all to read. He meant no ill will towards anyone in the room. He reached out with his abilities, his newfound wealth of power allowing him to do so with such ease. The tendrils rolled along the floor unseen by the others and entwined themselves around the tall male’s leg, up his thigh to circle his waist, then traveled higher to crown his head.
Confusion. A desire to protect, a sense of duty, and a feeling of failure. Such a mix of emotions raged through the male that Asher found himself frowning, matching the male’s own expression. Something in this male felt so familiar.
“I have no idea who you are, but I meant no harm. I stumbled and fell. That is all. I would happily see my leave and allow you to continue with your day.”
“Keep those hands raised, do not attempt to reach for that dagger.”
Busted, Asher watched as the male glanced and nodded to the hip he had his blade strapped to. He had pulled his tunic over it to keep it hidden, but obviously, he hadn’t done a good enough job.
“I am Rune Forrester, High Protector of the Winter Quartaine. That is who I am. Who are you?” With sword still drawn, Rune Forrester stepped into the room and, with a nod, indicated for the male who had accosted Asher to step behind him and watch over the female.
Asher blinked, the only reaction he allowed. “Asher Rivenshaw, a bastard born nobody.”
The female by the door blanched her face paling at his words.
Normally Asher would try to bite his tongue and hold back on his cutting remarks while in the presence of females, but he was still in shock, so he wasn’t thinking straight.
Following his gaze, Rune Forrester glanced back at the female and pulled her closer to him, still on guard, “Mother? Are you okay?” He moved quickly, guiding her to a chair nearby while keeping the blade pointed at Asher. “Bailey, fetch a glass of water for Lady Forrester.”
Asher dropped his hands briefly to push on the armrests to help him to his feet. His legs felt a little weak, his body still coming around from the mental and emotional onslaught of the surge of power he had endured earlier. The last thing he needed to be seen as in front of these males was weak.
As Bailey moved, Asher called after the advisor, “I would appreciate a drink of something a little stronger myself. Be a good male and grab me something while you are at it?” His voice was strong, even if his body felt quite the opposite.
Rune watched Asher, his brow hitching at his request. He nodded to his advisor giving him permission to carry out Asher’s request.
With his hand on his mother’s shoulder, Rune took a moment to let his gaze rake over Asher, traveling head to toe and back again. Gauging the threat to be less than before, the male relaxed his sword arm but still stood in a defensive position.
Smart male, Asher thought.
“So Rivenshaw, who sent you? Nice glamor by the way. Your mage did an excellent job. It’s a pity they didn’t commit to the look, though, because your eyes need obvious work. Green? Not a common color in Winter, in case you didn’t know.”
Asher laughed as relief washed over him, his prayers answered. Luckily part of his glamor had stayed intact, “What is it with you assholes in Winter? My appearance is splendid. Either your eyes are broken, or your taste is up your–”
“SIR!”
Asher’s retort was cut short at the timely return of the advisor, his face beet red, hands clasping a tray with three glasses balanced on it. One, water which he offered to the lady seated. Next, he handed a tumbler of dark liquid to Rune, and lastly, he moved to Asher, glaring at him as he shoved the tray towards him, a scowl on his face, “Your drink...sir.”
Ignoring the implied insult and the harsh tone of his servant towards their guest, Rune pushed on, “You didn’t answer my question, and you can drop the glamor. You’ve been caught.”
“I do not have a glamor on,” Asher rolled his eyes, boredom radiating off him. He pushed it out like it was a tangible thing allowing it to touch each person in the room.
“So you wish to play games? I don’t like games, Mr. Rivenshaw, if that is your real name.”
“I am not playing games, Mr. Forrester.”
Bailey’s eyes widened, his eyes darted from Asher and then to his Lord. “It is High Protector Forrester to you, Mr. Rivenshaw.”
“Enough of this, Bailey. Send for the court”s mage. Let us see just who this imposter is. Then we can work on getting answers on who sent him.”
The young Lord appeared to be torn between fencing verbally with Asher and glancing nervously at his mother. The lady in question sat in silence, her eyes locked on Asher. She hadn’t taken her eyes off him since seeing him when they entered. Her skin appeared paler than the norm for Winter fae. It was almost like she had seen a ghost.
Asher just wanted to leave. Whatever had been tugging him to this place had ceased. He hadn’t felt it since the incident in the great hall, “Sure, waste the mage’s time. I told you I am not wearing any glamor. Not as much as before, anyways.”
He blinked twice, his eyes flipping from Eli’s to his own unmatched pair. He knew there was no point keeping that little part of his glamor in place. Showing them may gain some trust, and if not, at the very least, it would save time.
Lady Forrester gasped, her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound.
“Fine, the last of my glamor is gone.” Asher glanced at the female, his brows pulled into a frown, confused at her reaction. He was not a hideous male; she was being a little dramatic.
“So, as you can see, my hair is not the typical dark shade that you see in this Quartaine. I’m different, and that is not a crime. At least it wasn’t the last time I checked.”
Asher was feeling steadier, enough so that he could move from the chair to stand by the window looking out at the scene below. A courtyard filled with snow covered everything. The very gargoyles upon the apex of the window frames wore a coat of fluffy white snow.
“I can see we share a resemblance, our hair, and our dashing good looks. I have no explanation for that, but I promise you how you see me now is not a glamor. Bringing your mage here will be a waste of time. They will tell you the same thing I just have.”
With every passing moment, Asher could feel himself growing stronger. But with every passing moment, something else was beginning to happen. The tug in his chest that had led him there had once more sprung into life. No longer was it tugging him. He felt no urge to move. Instead, it seemed to pulse deep within him, filling him with warmth, energy, and power.
Although not showing it, Asher stood before the others in total confusion.
“You said you are bastard born. What did you mean by that?” Rune Forrester’s mother spoke. Her eyes were locked on Asher as she moved slightly forward in her seat.
Appearing convinced Asher posed no threat, Rune sheathed his sword, but his hand remained resting at the hilt.
“I mean, my lady, that I am an orphan. I was found and brought to a home that was not orthodox and raised by a group of people rather than a family. I have no siblings and no parents. I am a nobody.”
She appeared to visibly stiffen at his words.
Asher reached out to her with his abilities, but his brows drew high when he was unable to get access to her. She appeared to be shielding herself from him, and almost like she could feel the caress of his tendrils as they attempted to reach into her, she lifted her gaze to his and held it.
A warm, soft smile pulled on her lips but disappeared a fraction of a second later to be replaced by a frown.
“Bailey, ready a bath for Mr. Rivenshaw. He will be staying with us awhile. Please place him in the room next to Rune’s. Have my lady’s maid get my gown ready for this evening and be sure to go to the kitchens and check on the timing of the food for later, please.”
“Mother?” Rune twisted to face his mother, confused and uncertain.
She did not answer him. Instead, she waited until Bailey had left, taking the remaining guards with him. It was only when the three of them remained, Asher, Rune, and Lady Forrester, that she pushed to her feet and slowly made her way to where Asher stood.
Both males watched her. Asher was curious, wondering why she would order away the people instructed to keep her safe. For the first time, Asher found Rune hard to read. His emotions were no longer on show, his face a blank mask as he watched his mother.
Asher was in no doubt that whatever was pressing on the new High Protector if he tried to do anything to his mother, the male would be on him in a blink.
“Do you not wonder why you look like my son? Are you not curious as to why you look identical? The only difference is your eyes.” Her voice was low, but it was charged, a current running from it taking root in his very being.
Asher”s gaze narrowed at her words, “I resemble your son. It is a coincidence, nothing more.”
“Really? Tell me something, Asher? May I call you that?”
His stomach knotted, he had no idea where she was going with her words, but something in her eyes had his stomach rolling.
She waited until he nodded before carrying on, “Tell me something, two nights ago, did you get sick? Burn a fever, then suddenly feel as if your very soul was on fire?”
Asher swallowed thickly. How could she have known that? How could she have possibly have known what he had felt, how he had been?
He fought hard to keep his expression neutral as he processed what she had asked, “What are you getting at?”
“I will take that as a yes.”
She glanced back at Rune, a sad smile on her face. Her heart tore as she pulled her gaze back to Asher. She hesitantly reached for his hand before pulling back. Her eyes shining, he noted the unshed tears.
“You look like Rune because....”
She took a deep breath, almost as if that time was taken to prepare herself, as much as them, for what she was about to reveal.
“...he is your brother, your twin brother... and you, Asher, are my son.”