Page 154 of With Wing And Claw

‘It’s not entirely pleasant,’ Agenor said tightly, which from his lips she knew to be code foryou might lie awake for months because of this.‘I just wanted to let you know that we found some answers, so you can tell us when you feel strong enough to—’

‘What did you find?’ Her voice had sharpened. ‘Tell me what you found.’

He closed his eyes.

Emelin dryly said, ‘Told you.’

Agenor’s muffled curse suggested that she had indeed, and likely more than once. Rubbing his face, he tensely said, ‘Thys, you spent the past five days on the brink of death. Even if you feel much better, you—’

With an eyeroll, Emelin leaned over him, nudged a hissing snake aside, and grabbed a leather folder off the floor by his feet.

‘Ignore him,’ she said with an oddly understanding nod as she handed it to Thysandra. ‘He doesn’t know what missing fathers are like.’

Agenor’s next curse suggested that argument had come up before, too.

‘Right,’ Thysandra weakly said. ‘Thank you.’

‘Thought Creon was the ruthless one,’ Agenor muttered under his breath as his daughter moved back into her seat, and she elbowed him in the wing hard enough that he winced a little.

The folder wasn’t heavy. When Thysandra untied the strings and opened it, she found only a handful of documents inside, the faded ink revealing their age. One of them had been torn in two; it was only when she held the pieces together that she realised what it was.

A birth certificate.

Cythera of Cyrigon’s house.

‘Your mother’s.’ Agenor’s voice seemed strangely distant. ‘That is the state I found it in among the administrative documents we took from the court.’

‘Why …’ The torn edges shook in her hand. ‘Why in the world would the Mother have this in her personal files? Why not just keep it with the other certificates in the archives?’

He sighed. ‘Read on.’

The next piece of parchment – she had to blink and blink again to be sure she wasn’t going mad – was an academy report. Odder still, oneheracademy reports. Name scribbled at the top, in a meticulous teacher’s hand:Thysandra of Echion’s house, Spring 2836.

She’d been twelve years old.

This had to be her very first quarter at the academy.

Her grades had been excellent. Ridiculously excellent. Straight 5’s all the way down, and for magic – the last on the list – a teacher had jokingly put down a 6, accompanied by a quick note on extraordinary talent. Of course it had been presented to the Mother. Promising students were always brought to her attention.

It had been a while since Thysandra had seen a reportthisexcellent, though. Excellent enough that it seemed it had to belong to someone else.

‘I— I don’t understand—’

‘Read on,’ Agenor quietly said.

The last piece of parchment was a letter. She opened it as if a deadly scorpion might fall out from between the folds of the yellowedsheet.

Your Majesty, it started.

It is a hallmark of my high esteem for you that I can even find it in myself to reply to your proposal with more than a simple “no”.

Some, I presume, might have felt grateful for earning the honour of your royal preference. I am regrettably not one of them. The notion that I would abandon the love of my life, the mother of my child, to serve as a stud horse for the propagation of your bloodline is little short of an insult. I understand the offer was not made to be refused, but even so, I do.

I trust I need not elaborate further on the matter, though I am quite capable of doing so should the need arise.

Otherwise ever your faithful servant,

Echion