I glanced behind me, up at the Red Palace. “Come. I will show you to the palace.”
My father did not remount. Instead, we walked together back to the castle, the delegation following a few paces behind us.
“How was your trip?” I asked, hoping to keep the conversation light but also curious to know if he had encountered anything unusual.
“Thankfully uneventful,” he said.
“How are things in Lara?”
Asking after my home brought more anxiety. I was not certain I wanted to know the truth. Between the uprising and Nadia’s letter, I did not know what to expect, and right now, all I could think of were my father’s words: You are the hope of our kingdom.
But so many things had changed since then. He’d said that before my own people had attacked me, before I’d learned the truth about Dragos and High Coven, before I’d learned that my mother’s people were enslaved.
And suddenly I wondered if my father had known about King Gheroghe and Nalani.
Surely not, I thought. I hoped.
I would have to ask him later.
“Uneasy,” he said. “I am not so surprised. I knew my surrender to the…” He trailed off and then cleared his throat, correcting himself. “I knew my surrender to King Adrian would cause unrest.”
My father did not look at me as he spoke, and I found his understanding of the revolt a little unsettling. Still, I did not prod, continuing to keep our conversation companionable until we reached the courtyard, and my father grew silent. I looked in his direction, his eyes settling upon Adrian.
He descended the steps and approached us, placid and composed. “King Henri,” he said. “Welcome to the Red Palace.”
My father tipped his head back, observing the monstrous structure. “I appreciate the offer to see my daughter and the escort to Revekka, King Adrian,” he said. “It is good to see you are well.”
I was not certain my father meant the last part, but he was a master at hiding what he truly felt. I had once believed that made him a better king. Now I wasn’t so sure.
“Of course,” Adrian said and stepped aside, gesturing for us to move into the castle ahead of him.
I requested refreshments be brought up and then escorted my father to his room as Adrian saw to his men.
I had spent so long imagining what it would be like to reunite with my father, I never anticipated that we would have nothing to talk about. But as I sat opposite him in his suite, at a table laden with fresh fruit, bread, and tea, I found I had nothing to say.
“Is Nadia well?” I finally asked.
“Yes, yes,” my father replied. “She misses you.”
“I miss her,” I said, and our conversation trailed off again.
To fill the silence, my father slurped his tea. As he set his cup and saucer down noisily, he asked, “Does he treat you well? The Blood King?”
“Yes,” I said without pause. “Yes, of course.”
He stared at me for a long moment, and I did not know if it was because he thought I was lying or he did not like my answer. Finally, he dropped his gaze.
“Well,” he said, taking a breath. “I think I would like to rest.”
“Did you know about Nalani?” I asked. The words had been building in the back of my throat, and I couldn’t stop them from spilling out.
He blinked, then looked down.
“Issi—”
“Don’t.” I stopped him. “How could you look at me every day and not think of the fate of my people? Did you not think I would want to do something?”
“Isolde, those are not your people. You were raised in Lara.”
I flinched. “But you married my mother. Did you not promise to protect her people too?”
“I promised to protect her, and I did.”
“Did she know what King Gheroghe had done?”
He did not answer.
“You didn’t protect her then. You lied to her.”
I stared at him and realized what had weighed on me since his arrival—I no longer knew him. And he no longer knew me.
You will come to find that blood has no bearing on who you become, Adrian had said before, and he had been right.
I left my father’s room in a daze, feeling a keen sense of disappointment and sadness. I could not quite decide how to feel about my father’s decision. I tried to rationalize that perhaps he felt as Adrian had. Perhaps the threat of vampires and monsters and protecting his people far outweighed attempting to free my mother’s people.
Still, why was I raised knowing nothing of their enslavement? That felt like a betrayal on its own.