Page 88
Turning my attention to the rest of the room, I surveyed it.
It seemed…large for a boy so small. One corner held a box of wooden toys, with several of them sprawled outside. As if he had been playing before he fell ill. I peered into the darkness, reading a carved word on one of the toys.
Jamic.
He shifted, letting out a cry, and I glanced toward the door. Green eyes opened and met mine. His eyes were bleary, confused. His little face scrunched up.
“Mama?”
I sighed. If I denied such a thing, he might wail, and that busybody nanny would make me pay for it somehow. I knew she would.
So I said nothing. And we watched each other.
Orlissa had told me to comfort him. I should have told her I had no idea what that meant. He shivered, and I tucked the blanket closer over him. My hand brushed his warm cheek, and before I knew what I was doing, I was pushing his hair off his forehead. His eyes grew heavy-lidded.
There was a tiny cup of water on his bedside table.
“Are you thirsty, child?”
He nodded, and I helped him sit up. His clothes were damp with sweat. Was the fever breaking? The boy took several gulps of water.
I took the cup back, waiting for him to lie down.
Instead, he climbed into my lap.
I froze. My arms came around his tiny body almost of their own volition.
“Mama.”
I looked down into his green eyes—so different from mine.
My rotten, black heart cracked open.
“Yes,” I croaked. “Yes, I’m your mama.”
* * *
My son had seen his twentieth winter as a prisoner, and I hadn’t been allowed to visit. Sabium had refused to allow him home for the recent celebrations. And his reaction tonight had confirmed my worst fears.
Jamic wouldn’t be coming home.
My hands shook with rage.
I knew more than Sabium could imagine.
I knew his real name was Regner. I knew he was alive due to stolen magic and dark knowledge. And I knew he was planning to kill my son.
It didn’t matter what “Sabium” did. He could torture as many people as he liked—could horrify the court, could terrify our entire kingdom. Because he’d simply fake his own death, and the people would gladly embrace him when he pretended to be a levelheaded, shy young ruler unexpectedly taking the throne. When he pretended to be my son.
I would do whatever it took to make sure that didn’t happen.
* * *
That night, while Lorian met with Conreth’s general, I met with Tibris, Asinia, Demos, and Vicer. I’d made my decision—I’d go to the hybrid kingdom, and I’d leave this camp as soon as we had a plan in place. Now I just had to convince the others this was a good idea. I’d enjoyed spending time with my friends and family. Enjoyed training and avoiding thinking about whatever Regner could be planning next. But it was time to begin making our moves.
I’d barely seen Vicer, but he looked tired. Apparently, he’d been continually traveling to the fae border to welcome new hybrids and send messages back to his remaining rebels in Eprotha with various plans to help smuggle them down here.
“We need to talk about what comes next,” I said. “What do we know about the hourglass?”
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