“Only our family’s history, child,” Aunt Bea snapped,” And it’s important, since…”
“I know, I know.” She flopped back on the couch, silent for a second before another thought caught her. “Was the woman Killian married really a Gypsy?”
“Romani, I should say,” Bea corrected herself with a rueful grimace, “If there’s any truth to that part of the story. Not social to outsiders, as a rule, so it’s strange—unlikely—that their family sought out Killian’s. But, who knows what might draw someone in. Sympathy? Curiosity? Herblore? Something less tangible? Regardless, Killian married some young woman, wherever she came from. He eventuallly passed the lore of the Dragonclaw on to their daughter, who passed it to her son, and…” Bea shrugged.
Romani,“Wait—her son wasn’t—Grandpa?”
“My father. Yes.”
