Chapter Twenty-Five

Eliot pulled his bedchamber door to but didn’t shut it fully.

“Are you sure it’ll remain agreeable to my presence?” said Marcelin softly, her back still pressed against the outer door.

He grinned, having seen the cat napping on his bed. “Yes, Mother, he’s sleeping. Don’t worry, I’m here. Come, sit. Please,” he finished pointedly when she didn’t move.

Perching herself on the edge of the armchair, she gradually moved back, her gaze on the bedchamber door. “So, you’ve discovered it’s a ‘he’?”

Eliot nodded, settling onto the straight-backed chair he’d pulled out from behind his desk. “This is nice, having you to myself.”

She smiled, reaching over to pat his hand, which rested on his knee. “We barely get the chance. As much as I love your sister, I’m glad she’s spending the day with Minette.” Her forehead wrinkled as her smile faded. “It means I can speak to you. Freely.”

Instantly worried, Eliot leaned forward, holding her hand in both of his. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“No, no. It’s not to do with me. Well, in a way, I suppose it is. It’s, it’s about.” Tears shone in her eyes. “I have to tell you. I don’t know how,” she whispered.

Eliot pressed his feet against the floor to stop himself quivering, his mother’s behaviour making him fearful. “Tell me.”

Marcelin closed her eyes and took a tremulous breath. “It’s about your father. Ruvane. I should have.” Straightening her posture, she shook her head. “No. First, your grandfather, yes, I’ll start with him, Ruvane’s father, Joffrey. He’d already inherited his father’s soap business when he met and married Mother Arditha.”

Eliot’s eyes widened as he realised what his mother was telling him.

Marcelin spoke slowly, carefully. “She lived in Aiqos. With her family. Joffrey set up a partnership with Mother Arditha’s brother, Risal.”

His gaze darted about; the name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

“Mother Arditha’s father, he was a man, her mother was a tall-folk.”

Eliot’s face went slack, his eyes, dull.

“Joffrey’s parents were also of mixed blood.” Swallowing hard, Marcelin took hold of both Eliot’s hands. “Which means, Ruvane was–oh.”

Eliot snatched his hands from her grasp and shot to his feet. The chair tilted back, but didn’t fall, resting on its back legs against the desk. Breathing hard, his hand over his mouth, he looked around as if searching for something. Then marched to the window, his back to Marcelin.

“Oh, Eliot. I’m so sorry, I should have told you before. I-I thought not knowing would–”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why. Wait.” He faced her. “Climence knows, doesn’t she?”

Momentarily closing her eyes, Marcelin nodded. “I didn’t want her to know. I knew she wouldn’t agree to our marriage, so I asked your father not to tell her. I don’t know why, she still refused. She only agreed because Grandfather insisted.” She fell silent, staring at her hands in her lap.

Eliot clenched his jaw to stop himself shouting at her to keep talking.

“It was because of me she found out. I was pregnant with you, Ruvane was away in Salmarin, without thinking I mentioned his tall-folk ancestry. I can’t even remember what we’d been talking about. She was furious. Made me promise not to tell anyone, she said it would hurt Grandfather’s business. He was poorly, I didn’t want to drag him into it. Ruvane didn’t want to keep it secret, but, for my sake, he agreed.

“After Grandfather died, Mother’s behaviour worsened. Ruvane wanted you to grow up with a loving family, so we decided we’d move to Aiqos. Mother Arditha was already there, and, and.” She shook her head and continued shaking it as she dug in her pocket for her handkerchief.

The anger that gripped Eliot eased a little in the face of concern for his mother. Forcing himself back to his chair, he straightened it and sat. “All these years, why didn’t you tell me?”

Raising her teary gaze, she dabbed at her nose. “I wanted to, when you were old enough, but Mother. She said she’d tell people, those like Garlon. Although Uncle Leighton doesn’t believe she would, he thinks it would reflect badly on her. But I couldn’t take that chance. I’m sorry, Eliot, I was trying to protect you.” Her chin trembled. “And now. I wouldn’t blame you if. If you hate me.” She hid her face in her hands.

Churning anger and betrayal threatened to engulf him. But love for his mother kept those emotions in check. He went down on one knee before Marcelin and moved her hands from her face. “I could never hate you. How could you even think that?” His heart ached at the sight of his mother openly weeping. “There’s only one person I hate, and I didn’t think I could hate her any more than I already do. If it wasn’t for her–”

“Eliot.” Marcelin dried her cheeks, keeping her gaze firmly on him. “Please don’t antagonise Mother. No, listen.” She grabbed his hand as, shaking his head, he tried to stand. “With her connection to that faction, and this foolish plan she has with Garlon, I fear for your safety. Please. Don’t say anything.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, grimaced then nodded, the movement very slight. Back on his chair, he sat with his elbows resting on his legs, staring at the floor between them. “Does anyone else know? About Father?”

“Bertran. They were already good friends before I’d met Ruvane. He stood with your father at our wedding,” she said with a hint of a smile.

“Aunt Elisanna?”

“Of course. And Uncle Leighton. They got on very well, Ruvane felt comfortable telling him. I don’t think, even now, Mother knows that Uncle Leighton knows. Oh. And Dacey knew. When he returned to Mariosha and we renewed our childhood friendship, he and Ruvane became good friends too.”

A part of Eliot wanted to feel angry that Bertran, Elisanna, and Leighton knew of his tall-folk heritage but had never said a word, but he simply felt numb. A heavy sigh fell from him.

Marcelin laid a hesitant hand on his knee. “I’ve given you so much to think about. If you don’t wish to talk to me about it, I understand. But I hope you’ll consider speaking to Bertran or Uncle Leighton.”

“I might, I don’t know.”

Neither spoke for long moments until Eliot said, “What about Lina?”

“I know you don’t like keeping secrets from her, but I think it’s best to wait until this unsavoury business with the tall-folk has been sorted.”

He didn’t like it, but he had to agree it was the most sensible thing to do. As he straightened, Marcelin started speaking again.

“You’ve met one of your uncles, you know.”

Eliot’s eyes widened. “When?”

“That last day at the Trade Building, Lord Jarek’s last day there.”

Suddenly Eliot remembered where he’d heard the name, Risal, before. “Master Aridai.”

Smiling wistfully, Marcelin nodded.

Eliot swallowed a few times. “He-he’s my uncle?”

“His father was Mother Arditha’s older brother.”

He fell back in his chair, jamming his fingers through his hair. Recalling Aridai’s behaviour when they’d met, it now made sense. An inexplicable lightness came over him. “I have an uncle,” he whispered.

“More than one. Aridai has a brother. And they both have children.”

“I-I have. Cousins?”

Despite the fresh tears that threatened to spill down her face, she smiled as she nodded.

His shoulders dropped, his arms hung loose, and his mouth turned up in a lopsided smile as he blinked back unexpected tears.