A Queen of Gilded Horns (A River of Royal Blood #2) - Amanda Joy Page 0,60

this form.”

I joined them at the table and chose a seat evenly between Tavan and Lirra, with Anali beside me.

“I . . . don’t yet know how to change back.” And then I didn’t have the first idea of what form I would take when I could shift at will. “Until my . . . fall, I didn’t know about this magick. My father never told me of you. I did not find out we were khimaer until weeks after he passed, I’m afraid.”

The head of our House looked softer than yesterday, her unbraided hair falling in crinkles around her face. She wore a floor-sweeping skirt of palest yellow and a beaded shawl draped over her shoulders. She was at least ten years my senior, but carried herself like an even older woman.

“That will come,” Lirra said, by way of greeting. “Good morn, little Evalina.”

“Good morn, my Lady,” I said slowly. Was that genuine affection I heard in her voice, or what she thought I wanted to hear? “You have my thanks for hosting my friends. I will cover any cost incurred, of course.”

Lirra leaned forward, her palms flat on the table and a small journal rested beside her. “You must have many questions.”

I did have questions—about magick and history and the whys and hows of pretending to be human all this time—but I knew where I wanted to start. “Please, Lady, will you tell me about my father?”

“When I was ten, Lei left to join the Queen’s Army. I remember the day especially because he crafted an illusion for us in one of the courtyards, depicting the human Court he hoped to infiltrate.” Lirra’s nostrils flared as she studied my face. “He rarely visited for fear of being followed, but the last time was three years ago. Our grandmama, your namesake, had died suddenly without ever meeting you. He and my mother, the Lady of our House at the time, fought about it. My mother demanded Lei tell you the truth and bring you to Orai so you could be one of us properly. So you could shape your future, and not be a pawn of the humans in the South. Lei said that once you knew, you wouldn’t be content to hide. And it would only become harder to keep this secret once you knew the truth.”

He was right. I would have loathed being trapped in the capital even more. He had barely gotten me to return to Ternain from Asrodei. I would have abandoned my life as Princess without a second thought. “What do you mean, become one of you properly?”

She exchanged a look with Osir and Tavan before explaining, “We all spend a year in the North, usually at fifteen or sixteen.”

I sucked in a gasp. It couldn’t be. “North? With the Tribe?”

This time it was the three of them who gasped. “You know of the Tribe?”

“Yes, I . . . My nursemaid, Mirabel, told me of the rumors,” I lied. I didn’t want to explain Baccha to them just yet. “But why? What does the Tribe have to do with our family?”

“They teach some of us the old ways and train us. We aren’t the only khimaer in hiding across Myre, just the only nobles. Many of us in hiding spend time with the Tribe in our youth. Your father, of course, did not go.”

Lirra paused, drumming her nails against the table. “You’ve noticed I appear human. Just like your father.” I nodded. “The few children who are born in this family who can mostly pass as human have their horns severed and healed to show no scars.”

I flinched, but Lirra rushed right on as if it wasn’t worth lingering on. “Instead of going to train with the Tribe, Lei joined the Queen’s Army. He didn’t have any plan but hoped to find a way to fix the seemingly insurmountable divisions in the Queendom. You,” she continued, “were the result. After he made the fool mistake of falling in love with that terrible Queen and adopting her bastard child as his own, she became pregnant with you, and Lei found his solution. Another daughter. A part-khimaer Rival Heir who could become Queen without any humans knowing the truth.”

My stomach roiled. His solution.

I would have done anything to hear my father’s voice again. I wanted him back so I could properly direct the rage building inside.

“Well, my father was right to believe I wouldn’t have wanted to hide.” Not for long at least. “They would have