Page 133 of Unravelled
"Compare me to my father," Ren murmured.
Mira blinked, her brow furrowing slightly. She turned back to the portrait, studying Caelric’s face with quiet concentration.
"You look exactly like him," she said without hesitation.
Ren hummed, "And?"
Mira tilted her head, her focus sharpening. Ren felt it, the flicker of her mind piecing something together. The way her amusement faded into something more thoughtful, more searching. Her gaze flicked between the two men, the same dark hair, the same strong jawline. Then her eyes trailed lower, settling on Caelric’s eyes. Deep brown.
Ren didn’t move, didn’t breathe. He felt her confusion spike. A pause. A hesitation. Then, she turned to him.She inhaled sharply, her brows knitting together.
"Your eyes," she murmured.
Ren said nothing. Waiting. Her breath came shallower now. Ren felt the first hints of uncertainty stir through her. She wasn’t afraid. Not yet. But something inside her was beginning to shift. "You must have gotten them from your mother."
Ren nodded once, slowly. "I did."
Mira’s brows drew together, her gaze snapping back to the painting. To Sarelle. To her eyes. Ren felt it before she gasped. The sharp, splintering crack of understanding breaking open inside her.
Her entire body went still. Didn’t move. Shock slammed into her. Ren felt it hit him like a punch to the ribs. A sharp inhale, a staggered heartbeat. A tidal wave of realization, crashing all at once. Her hand gripped her own wrist too tightly, as if she needed something to anchor her. Something real. She turned to him, lips parting, but no words came. Ren only held her gaze. Steady. Unwavering. Silence stretched between them, thick and charged.
Ren let her sit with it. Let her feel it, all of it. Because he knew what came next. The questions. The doubt. The why. Finally, Mira exhaled shakily.
"Who else knows?" she asked, voice careful.
Ren’s jaw flexed. He had never spoken this aloud. Not like this. Not to anyone outside the family.
"Aside from my parents," he said, voice even. "And Tharion?" His green eyes locked onto hers. "Nobody."
Mira stilled. A fresh wave of emotion surged through her, shock, still. Disbelief. But beneath it, something else. Something deeper. Her breath hitched.
"Why?" she whispered.
Ren’s throat tightened. The truth sat heavy on his tongue. He looked back at the portrait, the careful deception painted for the court. At the woman who had risked everything to keep him safe.
"Because if the kingdoms knew who I really was, " His gaze flicked back to Mira, to the way she watched him now, eyes searching, wide.
"It would mean my life forfeited, and the kingdom’s alliances would never recover."
Mira’s lips parted slightly. "What do you mean?"
Ren exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders against the cold stone. "My mother was never meant to marry my father," he began.
Mira said nothing, her expression tight. Waiting. Bracing.
"She was second in line for the throne," Ren continued. "A princess meant for a political alliance. From the moment she was born, she was promised to another, a prince from another kingdom. One who would strengthen our trade, secure our borders, and ensure peace between our people."
Mira’s fingers curled slightly. "But she didn’t marry him."
Ren shook his head. "No. Because she loved someone else." Mira inhaled sharply.
"She was sent to his kingdom every year," Ren said. "Almost three months at a time, starting when she was fifteen. The prince was kind. Patient. He tried, Mira. He tried to make her happy.”
Mira’s breath hitched, just slightly. "but she fell in love with someone else..." Mira swallowed.
"Not the prince," Ren said, voice softer now. "An acolyte apprentice."
Mira stiffened. "He wasn’t meant for the crown. He wasn’t meant for anything more than a priest’s fate. But she saw him, and he saw her. And that was it."
