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He nodded, finally lifting his gaze to Poppy. He began to speak to her, but his attention strayed beyond us to his eldest. He paled as if he’d seen a wraith, and Malik…he wasn’t looking at our father at all.

Our father swallowed hard and moved to step forward. “Malik,” he said roughly, and that sound, it broke a little of the hardness that had built in my chest. Our father sounded like a man looking upon a child that had died.

Malik stared at the wisterias growing along the manor, his face impassive. “It’s good to see you, Father,” he said flatly. His voice empty. “You look well.”

Our father stiffened for several seconds and then became a man on a battlefield, staring at the one who’d just struck him down. “As do you, son,” he replied in a tone as vacant as Malik’s had been. That muscle ticked in his temple, the only sign that he felt anything at all. The same moved in Malik’s. Our father cleared his throat. “Food and drink are being prepared.” He turned stiffly to us. “I imagine there is much to speak about.”

“There is,” I said, looking at our Queen as she curled herself into my arm. “There’s a war to be ended.”

My father stared at my left hand as we filled him and the generals in on what had occurred in Carsodonia and Isbeth’s demands while we ate the roasted meat and drank the rich ale.

He tried to hide that he saw what had been done to my hand. So did the others. I thought that it might make things more comfortable for them if I kept it hidden, but the absent finger was a part of me now. They needed to get used to it. So, I kept my hand on the table, visible to all.

“What in the world could the Blood Queen want with Malec?” Sven asked.

Poppy wiggled a bit in my lap as she stared at the table, her finger stilling over the cut in the wood she’d been idly tracing. I’d snatched her when she returned from making use of a nearby privy, pulling her into my lap. Probably not the most appropriate seating arrangement for such a conversation, but I couldn’t care less about what the others thought. I wanted her there. Needed her as close to me as possible. The feel of her kept me grounded and gave me strength.

And I just liked the curve of her ass in my lap.

Seated to my left, Kieran took a drink of his ale, his eyes widening slightly above the rim of his cup. My gaze briefly flickered to where Malik sat between Emil and Naill. Knowing that the generals present only knew the Blood Queen as Ileana, it really limited what we could say. Malik hadn’t spoken at any point. Hadn’t even glanced up from the tankard of ale he kept refilling. Not until Sven had asked his question. Now, he stared at our father.

Our father was also doing the table-stare thing as he picked up his tankard and took a hefty drink. He exhaled roughly, lifting his gaze to Malik and then me. “The Blood Queen’s real name is Isbeth.”

Surprise rippled through me as Poppy’s head snapped up. The generals went silent in their shock. I hadn’t expected him to admit that. One glance at my brother told me that he hadn’t either. That same glance also told me that he was thoroughly enjoying our father’s discomfort. Malik smirked.

Lord Sven was the first to recover, sitting back in his chair. “Surely, you’re not referencing the Isbeth we all know.”

“Yes, it’s the Isbeth you are all familiar with,” Father continued with a heavy breath. “Malec’s mistress.”

“And the first vampry,” Aylard said.

“She wasn’t that.” Father looked at the Atlantian general. “She was never a vampry. Malec Ascended her, but a god cannot make a vampry. A god makes something else entirely.”

“Isbeth is a demis,” Poppy spoke, looking up. “A false god, but a god in all the ways that count. She has masqueraded as an Ascended this entire time, and not many of the Ascended even know what she truly is.”

Aylard faced Poppy. “But you did this whole time? You knew and you didn’t tell us?” Incredulity crept into his tone as Poppy nodded. The hollows of his cheeks flushed with anger. “How could you keep such information from us?”

Not a single part of me liked his tone. “That information wasn’t necessary for you to know until it was,” I said, before Poppy could. “But your shock and anger are misplaced. It is not your Queen you should be demanding answers from.”

Aylard stiffened, the flush deepening.

“My son speaks the truth. It is I and Eloana who bear all responsibility. We kept the truth of her identity hidden from most,” my father replied. “Our Queen could’ve revealed who the Blood Queen was at any time, but I believe she did not do so out of respect for us.” His gaze met mine. “Respect that neither Eloana nor I believe we have earned.”