when she knew what the king was like? Perhaps it was her only option, maybe she was going to go back for him? I wonder, my thoughts a whirlwind in my mind. Would I have done the same in her position? Could I have left my baby behind? Then she fell pregnant with me with her mate, my father, and they went on the run. Was I the reason she never went back for Jacob? In the end, though, none of it mattered, because he caught us. Pain slices through me as a part of my heart shatters for the father I never knew. The idea that he was cut down while trying to protect us brings a tear to my eye, but I won’t shed them here, not in front of the king. He doesn’t deserve to see my pain.
Feeling more in control, I open my eyes and see the king is watching me closely. “After you were dealt with, I had her memories wiped and made her mine.” The last word is said with a growl and full of possessiveness. With sudden comprehension, I understand his motives. If he couldn’t have her, no one could. Is that why he killed her in the end? Was she remembering? The thoughts strike me like a bolt of lightning, the answer suddenly important.
“Memory wipes are tricky things, as some strong memories stick, like love for a child.” The king grins, he knows he’s making me angry. In fact, he’s choosing his words carefully, trying to inflict as much pain as possible. Balling my hands into fists, I grip them so tightly, my nails bite into my palms, breaking the skin, but the sting helps release some of the tension building in my body. Perhaps I was right, she might not have known I was her child, but she remembered she had a child, which could be why she felt so familiar when we met in the courtyard.
“Or,” the king calls, “for example, she knew I killed her mate. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get rid of that memory.” Although he’s obviously trying to goad me, I hear the anger in his voice that he wasn’t able to be the only male in my mother’s mind. He couldn’t take away a goddess blessed bond.
“That’s why you built the courtyard,” Jacob rasps, sitting upright with the help of Samson as he frowns at his father. “I always thought it was a place for her to mourn her first husband, but you were rubbing it in that you killed her mate.” Shaking his head, Jacob stares at his father as if he’s truly seeing him for the first time.
“What can I say?” his father replies, spreading his arms wide as if he was admitting to some small faux pas and not all the evil he just confessed to. “I’m a jealous man.”
Jacob shakes his head, his whole body trembling as he leans against Samson. “I always thought that…” He trails off, like whatever he was about to say slipped from his mind. “I always thought the old queen was my mother… Why-why can’t I say her name, either of their names?” Jacob demands, his voice growing stronger with his anger, his face contorted with grief, confusion, and frustration. “Why did you let me believe she was my mother when my real mother was alive and in front of me the whole time?”
“Magic. We needed the kingdom to forget some of the events leading up to our wedding. Names are important for a sense of identity, without them, people are easier to control,” the king explains with a shrug, like this whole conversation is boring him. “My previous wife was collateral. Most of the citizens of Arhaven won’t even remember that I had a previous wife.”
“A spell like that…it breaks the code,” Samson murmurs next to Jacob, shaking his head as he looks up at me with wide eyes. He seems like he doesn’t want to say anything but can’t stop himself. “A spell that large, that strong, would have required several of the high mages.”
A spiteful laugh from the other side of the room brings our attention back to the king. He raises the discarded glass of whiskey and examines the liquid within before taking a drink. “The beauty of that spell was even the caster doesn’t remember casting it. Only those protected against memory spells kept their recollections of the events leading up to me taking your mother as my wife.”
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