Aiwin watched that knight of yours—Vixra—leave, the corner of his lips slowly curling. So the information whispered to him had been true. Not that he was entirely surprised. His beloved cousin was hardly the first person to take a lover on the side.

“I see the reason you’ve yet to marry,” Aiwin said, tapping a finger against his cup of tea. He hadn’t taken a sip. The warmth was what he was after. Truthfully he was waiting for you to offer him wine despite him being here with a purpose. “I won’t force your hand, do not fret. Vixra is a fine knight.”

And her family was well-respected. Vixra’s father and brother were hailed as heroes of war, casualties to the senseless violence. If rumors spread, Aiwin would simply silence them and allow you to continue as you were. He gained nothing from upsetting you.

If anything, Aiwin required your assistance.

“But I did not come to tease you.” Aiwin sat up straighter, smile sliding off his face as he heard the door click shut. They were finally alone. “I’m certain you’ve heard of what has transpired. Ailea has not spoken a word to me since.” He did not mention how his own spouse reacted to the news of his bastard child. It hardly mattered the bastard boy was born prior to his marriage. The boy existed, his every breath was a threat to Ailea.

“Do you know what has been said? That I’m his father?” Aiwin asked carefully, watching to see your reaction. You’d grown up at his side, one of the few he was allowed to play with as a child. His mother treated you kindly, though Aiwin assumed it was because you were from his father’s side. For all the fondness you shared, he did not know where you stood.

Aiwin had no intention of confirming the bastard’s—Lathael, he supposed—parentage. Lathael bore a striking resemblance to himself, but he knew, from the moment he laid eyes on him, that he was Reawen’s son. There were plenty of moments Aiwin wished to strangle his past self, but his short courtship with Reawen was one that he regretted most.

Those thoughts were for another day.

“I would not lie to you, I believe him to be mine,” Aiwin continued. His cup of tea was quickly growing cold. “Regardless, support of him grows by the day. Odara attacking our borders has done nothing to endear my spouse and children to them.”

Years ago he had married a human to end a war, a decision he had not made lightly. Now another loomed over Vesta, one they would not win. The people of Vesta were anxious, their frustration turning to the closest humans to them: his spouse, their half-human children. Ailea wasn’t the fully Elven queen they wanted, Lathael, however, was. He doubted the usurper king currently ruling over Odara had any plans for peace.

“Virion has already declared his support for Ailea. I have sent a letter to Marquess Daehal for his own.” Daehal had his own human spouse and half-elf son. Aiwin expected a positive response soon. “Cousin, I would appreciate yours as well. Ailea is quite fond of you. All of my children are. Kelas was asking about you the other day.”

Though Kelas, his youngest, asked of everyone. His son was kind—too kind. Aiwin could not fathom that he was his. Xirin, his second child, had taken to Ailea’s side and refused to speak to Aiwin. He hadn’t pushed.

Part of him had considered having Lathael quietly killed, eliminating the threat. Aiwin felt nothing for the boy, but he knew how Lathael’s death would appear. His people wanted to point fingers, wanted someone to blame for what was happening, and Ailea was the easiest target.

Aiwin rubbed his forehead. This was why he wanted wine over tea.