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Then it cleared into an arrogant serenity I hated. “In that case, you must return to me. Surely you cannot doubt me if that is what she believed.”

I curled my lip. “She believed you loved me. That does not mean I believe it. She also believed you would fail to protect me. And so she took me away.”

“She stole you away,” my father thundered. I flinched as the trees around us shook and the blades of grass in the meadow shivered. “She took what did not belong to her.”

“I belong to no one,” I shouted back. “Not to you. Not to anyone. You do not possess me, Father.”

And as I screamed the words, a sense of familiarity came over me. As if it were not the first time I had said this thing to him.

I struggled for calm. “I know what you did. To the children of Valtain. Your own peoples’ children.”

“You know nothing,” he replied with disdain. “You do not even know your own true name or why you were created. You are ignorant. Empty. Without me.”

“Oh, and you would educate me, I suppose? Turn me into, what? Someone like you?”

“Your mother was wrong,” he said, ignoring me. “I would have protected you.”

The words struck me to the bone. Perhaps because they were, of course, what any child would long to hear their father say.

Part of me even wondered if I should believe him.

Then I remembered Lancelet.

“Perhaps. Perhaps you would have saved me. After all, I was your own flesh and blood. But the other children? You cared nothing for them.”

“Because they were nothing like you,” he said coldly. “Nothing like us. The others are beneath us and always have been. Most know and accept their place. You have no idea, Daughter, of how far above them you belong. Above all of this.” He swept out his hands.

“I don’t want to belong there. Towering over, what? Humanity? The fae? Is that what you think I aspire to? Is that what you think would bring me happiness?”

“Happiness?” The gray-haired king tossed his head back and laughed. “Happiness is a word invented by mortals to bring hope to their bleak and pathetic existences. A passing feeling, nothing more. You may feel it countless times, Daughter. True pleasure. I have felt it more times than you could fathom.”

“I can only imagine what brings you pleasure,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “Watching your peoples’ children become mindless, slavering, undead creatures—did that bring you pleasure? Or perhaps when you took from them what you wanted—their souls—that brought you greater pleasure?”

I had hoped to catch him off guard, take him by surprise. But I was disappointed.

He merely smiled. “The thing that gives me the greatest and most lasting pleasure? Power. The ways I might acquire it. The pleasures of accruing it. Let me show you what great pleasure power might bring to you as well.”

I was tempted to tell him then that I was an empress but that it brought me very little pleasure and not a little lost sleep. But then I realized with a start that I had no idea if he knew that fact about me already or not. And if I told him, I would be telling him things he did not need to know.

“Why find me here?” I asked carefully. “Why in dreams? Why not come to me yourself? If you’re so powerful, why haven’t you found me before this?”

I already knew why—or could guess. My mother’s markings had shielded me.

But when Draven had saved my life and bonded to me, I had gained a new power. The power of true dreaming.

And only then had my father finally been able to catch up with me, here, in this place that should have been my refuge.

“I have thought I sensed you from time to time,” my father murmured. “Sensed your power growing.” He examined me closely as if looking for clues, and I cringed.

“Where did your mother take you?” he demanded finally, apparently unable to see all that he wished.

“You truly don’t know?” I was incredulous. “You, the all-powerful High King of the fae? You still don’t know?”

“I am much more than a mere king, and you shall tell me.” His face grew impatient. “What harm can it do? I found you here, didn’t I? I will never stop, Daughter. I will keep coming. Keep hammering against the walls of your mind until I have seen everything I need to see. And then... I will come for you.”

The threat made my throat constrict. “Love,” I whispered. “You speak of love. But how is this love, Father?”

His face hardened. “Love and fear and need are wrapped together. They are much the same. You have not learned this lesson yet. You are still a mere child. Your mother ensured that you would never grow up properly. That you would never take your place by my side as you should have.”