Bride of the Traitor (The Prophecy of Sisters #1) - Hayley Faiman Page 0,16
lies in the dungeon for the time being, speak your concerns, Cornwall.”
“Your father, Your Highness, he did not care for the witch.”
“But my mother did,” I finish, wondering what point he’s trying to make with this conversation.
Cornwall nods his head. “Your mother cared deeply for her, Your Highness. Once she was revered in this land, she was treasured. I would like to see her position reinstated.”
I’m unable to hide my surprise at Cornwall’s request. Leaning back, I look at him, really look at him. My eyes scan him from the floor to his face, taking in every inch of the man.
“What does she mean to you, Cornwall?”
He continues to shift from foot to foot, side to side, obviously very nervous to admit exactly who this woman is and I am intrigued. He closes his eyes, inhaling a deep breath before reopening them and lifting them to meet my own gaze.
“She is a powerful witch, Your Majesty, she is also my mother.”
I am, fortunately, a master at hiding my expressions. These words shock me, though I do not show my surprise. Lifting a brow, I cup my chin and move my hand along my jawline, feeling the whiskers there as I think about what I will say next. Merek enters the room, he doesn’t speak, nor do I greet him as I continue to take in Cornwall.
“How loyal were you to my father?”
Cornwall flinches and it’s then, for the first time, that I wonder if I can indeed trust this man. “I upheld the position in which I was asked to do so, Your Majesty. Though, I must admit that I did not always agree with his policies.”
Nodding, I lean back in my chair, my gaze never leaving his. “For the moment, since I’ve just learned of her existence only this day, she is in a cell. Though, I must admit I have had every intention of keeping her comfortable during her stay.
“As soon as I know more about this new witch that has appeared, and what your mother can discover about her, then she will be allowed to reside in the castle, comfortably in her own chambers.”
Cornwall’s head jerks, his eyes widening in surprise. “You are a gracious and just king, Your Highness.”
I snort, unable to hold the laugh inside. “You may visit her as you wish, Cornwall,” I say, lifting my hand and waving him off.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” he says with a flourished bow then before I can excuse him, he hurries off, no doubt to visit his mother, Aleida, the witch.
“We need to talk,” Merek booms as soon as Cornwell is gone.
Crossing my hands on the top of my scarred wooden desk, I lace my fingers and lift my chin, waiting for his words.
“First, the Queen’s chambers, then your own. Are you mad?” he demands.
My lips twitch as I look at my old friend, my cousin, my brother. The gossip did not take long to make its rounds and I should be worried about the reputation that I am setting up for Sybilla, but I enjoyed her too much to overly care.
“I feel as though I am, indeed, mad.”
“Explain this, what has happened in the mere hours I have left you?”
Clearing my throat, I stand, turning my back to him and walk over to the window. I stare at the Elephant birds that roam the grounds, animals that Sybilla has never seen before. Birds that are in great abundance here, and in the neighboring countries.
“She is not of this land, Merek. She has never seen an Elephant Bird, in fact, she panicked when she looked out this window. She passed out, cold. I had to loosen her ribbons just so that she could catch her breath again.
“She uses words and expressions that I have never encountered before. She speaks of lands named Portland, Oregon, and United States. All of these insane words and phrases aside, I am drawn to her, cousin. Drawn to her like no other I have ever met.”
Merek stays silent, he does this for so long that I have no choice but to turn around and look at him. Tilting my head to the side, I arch a brow and wait for him to speak.
“Do you think that she could hold magic that is so strong that it is not breakable by Aleida’s powers?” he asks.
Pressing my lips together, I lean back against the wall. “It’s possible, cousin. It’s probable. And yet, I do not sense she is the conniving sort.”