How do you put into words a chaotic mess of emotions? Emotions which not only gave you an odd worldview, for a fae, but also drove you to flee from the only home you had ever known, at the risk of being hunted down and seen as a traitor to your Court and family?

  I decided to start with the source of the whole mess.

  “My parents are Feyrith and Mirathana Belladonna. They love each other, which, if you know anything about the Court and its Noble houses, you’ll note is… rare. They weren’t even supposed to be married. I do not know if either of them was already engaged to someone else. But they met, fell in love, and decided to take matters into their own hands.”

  I paused, fiddling with my cup.

  “I thought we are discussing why you ran?” Soren asked mildly, eyeing me with some odd expression I didn’t bother to decipher.

  “We are. My parents, aside from being in love, are also notable for leading our family. My father is the head of the house, and my mother is incredibly gifted in the art of physical combat. She rose quickly to become one of the deadliest assassins in our family. Perhaps the deadliest.”

  My lips twitched, since that still amused me. Spouses who married in from outside the family typically didn’t do as well. But my mother, though somewhat limited in how she could use our poisons, had succeeded beyond many expectations.

  “This meant that, despite their ‘youthful indiscretion’, the power and standing of our house were unaffected. When I was born, I was made Heir of the family, as is custom for the direct descendant of the main family line. However… I don’t think my parents had any idea of what to do with me.”

  “Hrrrm? Explain.” Shaessath’s rumble was an order, not a request.

  “Just because someone is in love doesn’t mean they know what they are doing. My parents are a perfect storybook couple. Sweet and loving and all that. But they are fae, and were raised a certain way as members of important Noble houses. It’s one thing to figure out how to have a loving relationship. Raising a child is different…”

  I trailed off, only refocusing when Alys gave my hand a squeeze. I returned the gesture with a small smile, but from how she winced, I think it looked pained.

  I couldn’t help it. The idea of having children with Alys and messing things up terrified me.

  Slowly, I continued, “I have been thinking about this for some time now. I think the way they raised me was their attempt to express affection. They are happy with their lives, so they tried to give me the same life. Endless alchemy practice. Physical conditioning from the moment a child’s body wouldn’t outright break, backed up by the finest alchemical products to ensure I would suffer no unpleasant long-term effects from being pushed so hard. All the training an Heir is supposed to undergo. Everything, I realize now, intensified far beyond what a normal member of my family would be expected to face.”

  I risked a glance at Alys’ family. Shaessath was as focused as before. Amara was looking at me with profound pity, her eyes slightly glittering already. Soren’s squinting gaze was still suspicious, though the edges of that seemed blunted, now.

  “So, you ran because you failed?” he asked, not at all unkindly, but it still grated on me.

  “No,” I snapped, then took a deep breath. “I excelled. Beyond what happened later, I can proudly say I am my parent’s child in this regard. I met every challenge they threw at me and passed them. That’s not always for the best, though. Tell me, how old was Alys when you first let her kill a sapient creature?”

  Soren stiffened. I missed the reaction of the others entirely as I focused on his face, watching horror slowly bloom there.

  “I was four,” I went on, not expecting an answer. “Four years old when they got me started on lesser spirits and such. Things that looked entirely different from me, but could still beg. That was easy to brush off, I admit, but it didn’t take long before I graduated to other fae. That was when I properly perceived what I was doing as murder. Still, I confess I felt nothing for the first three. A murderer, a rapist, and a spy.”

  I counted them off, never quite able to forget the labels after the fourth murder I committed.

  “And then… a butler. One of our servants tried to steal some important documents and got caught. Proof of planned assassinations, I think? I never even tried to find out, because I didn’t want to think about any of it.”

  I might have been scooting a bit closer to Alys on my chair, since she suddenly moved hers right next to mine and wrapped her arm around my waist. A part of me unclenched, and it was slightly easier to open my mouth again.

  “My mother saw the theft as an opportunity. Her son was still far too soft, you see. He had never made a kill that mattered, or against someone who fought back!” I practically spit the words out, each one laced with vitriol.

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  “So, she made the butler an offer: run, or fight. Either he could flee, knowing I would hunt him down and kill him… or he could kill me instead in order to win his freedom. If he killed me, he would be exiled from the Court. But he would still be alive, and with nobody chasing him. It was a hopeless choice either way. Yet that faint chance of freedom was too tempting, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to run from me. He went right for my throat.”

  I paused again, buying myself some time by taking a sip of wine. Its normally sweet taste almost made me gag.

  “One of the people who had been around far more than my parents, who had helped me prepare for bed as a child, who had helped heal me when I was a mess of bruises or worse after training, who had snuck me treats and asked about what food I’d like for dinner, when he didn’t have to bother. And I killed him, right then and there. He almost managed to drive his dagger into my chest, but my instincts and reflexes were far beyond him at that point, even caught off-guard as I was. I believe that was the moment when the way I looked at my own family… shifted.”

  Another sip of the wine. Another moment of refusing even to glance at the others.

  “I looked around me for the very first time. And I realized how long it had been since my parents paid any attention to their son, rather than their Heir. They had tried, once upon a time. Outings, short moments of just doing something together that had nothing to do with training or their work.

  “All of that had dried up long before I killed the butler. They only had eyes for each other when they weren’t trying to push me past my breaking point, while I spent all my time desperately trying to get them to notice me. And even the servants pulled away after my mother happily bragged about my latest ‘achievement.’”

  The laugh that escaped me was not particularly pleasant.

  “I always did whatever they asked of me. I didn’t enjoy it, but I did it, because I wanted my parents to look at me with half the affection they seemed to reserve for each other. Even after the… butler incident… I still craved that. Yet the idea of living the life they wanted me to, of endless poison-brewing and murder, was something I loathed more with each passing day.”

  I sighed as another thought occurred to me.

  “You know, if anyone had reached out, if any member of my family had showed a hint of interest or genuine affection, I think I might have stayed. I have cousins. Aunts, uncles. Everyone steered clear of me like I was carrying a plague. My parents encouraged that, I believe. I remember watching them ‘discourage’ one of my aunts from bringing her children anywhere near me. But even so, I stayed and did everything they asked of me for far too long.”

  It was Soren who gently pressed me, after several beats of silence.

  “What changed?”

  “Nothing. Autumn simply came along.” I offered a sardonic smile. “I hated the idea of what my life would be like already, but as Heir of the family, I was meant to swear myself to his service. Eternally. Unbreakably. It was supposed to happen shortly after I completed my training, which meant crafting my family’s most deadly poison. I almost did it. I was a single simple step away. Couldn’t have messed it up. Instead, I left the unfinished poison behind, and I ran.

  “I didn’t intend to pick up alchemy ever again. I was planning to be a hunter or something similar. Anything, really. But the elders were thinking about turning me away, and I just…”

  I cleared my throat, a little embarrassed at how quickly I’d reached for alchemy after resenting it for so long.

  “At least it helped me to decide that, if my family wanted nothing but poison and death from me, I would use alchemy in the exact opposite way as much as I could. Then again, I did quickly find a reason to rely on my family’s specialty once more…”

  “I have heard about the water spirits, and that insolent family’s attempt to claim this town,” Shaessath cut in, her voice unexpectedly gentle. “You have done well.”

  My head snapped up, seeing an amused smile on the face of the full-blooded dragoness. Then I was left blinking in bewilderment when Alys’ mother practically launched herself at me, scooping both Alys and me into a hug.

  It was a bit awkward. Both of us were tall enough for our heads to reach her chin, even though we were sitting and she was not. But the hug was still surprisingly warm, and comfortable.

  “Oh, you poor thing,” the draconian cooed. Her voice was watery, like she was about to start crying. “Well, you have a proper family now! Doesn’t he, my sweet hatchling? We’ll make sure you forget all about those… those…” She huffed angrily. “Those parents of yours!”

  It sounded like she had been tempted to say something a bit more vitriolic, but had stopped herself.

  I wasn’t sure what to say. I wasn’t sure I could say anything around the sudden lump in my throat. Amara sounded so genuine, like she was personally wounded by everything I had just told them.

  “You are going to suffocate them,” Shaessath rumbled, the sound clearly masking a laugh.

  “Might as well let her get it out of her system,” Soren recommended, leaning back in his chair. “You know how she gets. I’m sure the kids will be fine.”

  Actually, Alys’ mother was doing a good job cutting off my ability to breathe, but I didn’t mind.

  I cleared my throat once, then again, before finally forcing words out. “Thank you.”

  Amara cooed something unintelligible as she pulled back far enough to look at us. I glanced at Alys to see a small grin stretching over her features. For something so subtle, it lit up her face in a way that kept me transfixed. I might even have gone in for a kiss, if her entire family wasn’t right there.

  “Oooo, look at them, Soren! Aren’t they the cutest?” Amara squealed. “They are going to give us such cute grandkids!”

  Amara might as well have bathed us in her fire breath, considering how hot our faces became. Alys’ eyes were filled what I could only describe as mild panic.

  “I think that’s enough, Ama. Come here.” Soren rescued us by spreading his arms for a hug. His mate grumbled and hmmed for a moment, but did decide to release us and offer her husband some affection instead.

  “Well… I suppose I derailed things myself, demanding your story in such a way,” Shaessath mused, eyeing me and Alys. “However, I’m not willing to delay that talk much longer about what you’ve been doing to try to help Alys with her bloodline, f-... child.”

  The way she addressed me drew a startled look from Soren and sent warmth spreading through me. Though she had visibly switched tracks, there was a glimmer in her manner of something I would dare to call affection. And while that confused me beyond all measure, it also left me feeling profoundly pleased.

  I was already exhausted from all the emotional whiplash, and Alys’ family had only just arrived.