Page 148 of The Golden Rose Of Valenul

Ariadne rubbed her forehead. It was all so much to take in. An entire family’s history forgotten. All except for by the Caldwells, of course. The painting of a woman with two young Caersan boys floated to the forefront of her mind. The Caldwells never forgot any of them. What would her father say if he had seen the painting?

“What happened to your mother?” She shifted on the carriage seat. “You once told me she had been murdered.”

“By an officer.” Azriel nodded. “Your father discovered her running away. She’d finally gotten the courage to leave Valenul with the Crowe.”

Something oily squirmed through her gut at the implication. Her father had been the General before taking his position as the Princeps. “My father killed her?”

“Yes.” This time he did not look away. His eyes burned into her with a fierce intensity. “He put a sword through her, then turned it on me.”

“How old—”

“I was fifteen.”

A child. With the slow growth of Caersan children, he would not have been any larger than an eight-year-old human. Madan, then, would have been even smaller. A mere toddler.

Azriel continued, “My father arrived just before the blow landed. He saved my life and protected Madan. When we left, we thought Markus was dead.”

“How did he survive?” She did not want to know. Not really.

“My father went back later to retrieve my mother’s body.” Azriel glared out the window again. “She was gone. I believe he drank her blood to heal himself.”

The thought of her father drinking from his dead wife’s body made her sick to her stomach. What kind of man did such things?

A monster.

A long silence passed between them after that. The carriage trundled down the highway as she grappled with the new knowledge of her family’s history. It extended farther than she previously thought and entangled more lives than she cared to admit.

“Why did you follow me last night?” she finally asked, unable to keep herself from thinking back to those moments on the verandas.

Azriel sighed and raised his eyes to her from his hands. “They were watching our home.”

Our home. She opened and closed her mouth twice before choosing to say nothing. What could she say?

“I’d rather die protecting you,” he said, voice a quiet rumble, “than live another night without you.”

Her heart sank, and her eyes stung. “Then why did you take me to Ehrun?”

Azriel’s throat bobbed, and he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes for a long moment. He released a shuddering breath. “Because he would’ve killed Madan, and I swore on my mother’s ashes I’d keep him safe.”

Her brother, too. “What did Madan think of it?”

“He told me not to.” Azriel dropped his hands to his lap and stared at the ceiling of the carriage. “He told me to let him go. For you.”

So Madan had been ready to die to keep her safe. Of course. He knew she was his sister the entire time.

“But he’s an optimist.” Azriel smiled grimly. “I knew Ehrun wouldn’t stop hunting you even if I refused. So I agreed and devised a plan to save you both from him.”

She had not expected that. The carriage slowed to a crawl, and suddenly, she did not want it to. She wanted to know more. So she remained silent.

Taking the cue, he continued, “I’m not very good at planning, as you now well know. And bonding with you hadn’t been part of it, either.”

“So that was the truth?” She had assumed it to be just another one of his lies. The lies he now exposed willingly.

“Until the very end,” he rasped and shook his head, unable to keep the corners of his mouth from turning down. “Ehrun figured it out and locked me away. I don’t know how Madan got out. I’ve been too ashamed to ask. Now I may never know.”

This time, Ariadne did take his hand. He jerked back, almost pulling away and eyes widening with fear. She gave him a single, firm squeeze. “You will find him.”

The carriage stopped. Azriel’s eyes shimmered with silver, and he pulled a dagger and small holster from under his seat. He glanced at the door. “Put this on. Please.”

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