of lineage than a place for warmth. That evening, however, the long oak table was dres

. Beside her, Lord Thomas sat sunken into his chair, fingering his wine glass without drinking. Evelyn sat near the end

st was

. "To the truth," she said, her

ruth," so

er his breath, shooting a glance at

eatrice set down her fork with a faint clang and signaled

e said coolly, "do

ned. Everyone

m and stepped back. The Pretender hesita

ild-sized, and painted gold. Faded red

ed softly.

Gabriel was given on his eighth birthday.

moment longer than he should have

arched. "What

red that detail until now. Gabriel used to

d at the dagger, th

faintly.

out a sha

ddenly. "No. He gu

s hadn't narrowed in doubt. If anything, they had

he's lying, Julian

d. "You said I forgot things. Maybe I did.

back. "So far, y

n the garden, the wooden

y guess?" she

t turn.

be you

. "Does it matter, Evelyn? If I make thi

Gabriel, then you're lying to me. And I

ed-pain, guilt,

, "but I didn't expect to find you. You m

loser. "Why *

ask slipped just a little. "Because your family

eath c

"I'm not sure reven

. Rage throbbed in his veins. He had been the one to protect her, watch over her, grow up beside h

ooked like a stranger. His mother had sa

rom the door and

ce in the back room of an old tavern. Isabella-Evelyn's mother-stood cloaked in

rmer merchant ruined by Hawthorne con

not meant to fall for him. He's sup

-employee, grunted. "Then he

et. When the house falls, it m

of herself with baby Evelyn and a young Thomas Haw

verything. I will not be denied v

glass in hand. He thought of his lost son, his long-dead lo

mas stirred. Not recognition. Not hope. But a me

hind him. Beatrice walked in, her

r," she said coolly. "You

he's forcing us to remember who w

. "Don't romanticize this. If

nce. "If you do, I may not help you pu

with the wooden dagger tucked beneath his coat. Rain was be

elt like it

she was on the edge

uld break more than j