My father summoned me to his private study that evening, away from the council chambers and the ears that came with them, and I understood before I even sat down that this was the conversation he'd promised the night I arrived. Everything, he'd said. Tonight, if you're able.
I was able. Barely, but able.
The study hadn't changed in three years either, tall shelves lined with old treaties and maps, the same worn leather chair he'd sat in for as long as I could remember, a fire crackling low in the hearth against the evening chill. He poured two cups of tea himself instead of calling a servant, which told me more than anything how carefully he wanted this conversation kept between us.
"Tell me everything," he said, settling into his chair across from me. "From the beginning. I want to und
