Page 29 of The Prince's Fealty

There was also part of him that was still a scared and lonely little boy who’d been abandoned by his mother.

It was Bav who responded once again, and Pel was relieved he didn’t have to try to articulate any of what he was feeling.

Bav was stiff with anger, his hands clenched into fists in his lap now. “Pel was only fourteen. Lara wasseven. They were children, and you left them to Father’s influence!”

She flinched, and Pel felt weirdly torn between yelling at his brother for hurting her and feeling vindictively grateful. He’d hurt for years and years. He’d grieved for a mother who’d died—but it turned out she’d just chosen to abandon him and his siblings.

He was sure she was right. Forex would never have let her take them. Pel saw that every day in the way that he wanted Pel to be present even though he wanted him out of his sight. But that didn’t change the fact that she’d freed herself and left them behind.

“It hasn’t been easy, living with him,” Bav continued, expression stern, tone implacable. “He hasn’t been a great father to any of us, but he’s been the worst to Pel. You could have helped with that.”

She turned to look at Pel fully, and part of him wanted to hide. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, and he didn’t want to reveal it to her. They were still holding hands, becausePel hadn’t recoiled when Bav had. She squeezed his fingers, and Pel became aware that he was clutching Tor’s hand so hard it had to hurt. But Tor had only brought his other hand up to rest it over Pel’s hand, a soothing weight.

The reminder that Tor had chosen Pel for real even when it ruined his terrible plan gave him the courage to meet his mother’s eyes. They were a lighter brown than Bav and Lara’s, closer to Pel’s in color. They suited her, somehow, where they looked bland on Pel.

(Tor liked his eyes, he reminded himself. Tor looked at him and saw him, and Pel needed to see himself.)

“I’m so sorry, Pel,” she told him. “I know your father’s opinion when it comes to magic. My influence over him had been waning for years, and while I would have tried to be supportive, I know I couldn’t have changed his mind. Your father was remarkably stubborn. When I told him I was leaving, he threatened to sever the bond. He thought it would stop me. I couldn’t bear to stay, so I renounced my Fealty to him and left anyway, and despite what it could do to both of us, he broke the bond. He said he hoped that it would kill me. It nearly did.”

“Him, too,” Bav said, voice tight. “He was in bed for weeks. We knew it was the bond breaking, but we thought it was grief when he started to drink even more, when he got rid of all your portraits, when he didn’t want to talk about you. We couldn’t even bring up your name. We had to whisper about it in private. That’s no way for a child to live.”

“I agree.” Pel’s mother sucked in a breath, and her shoulders straightened a little. “But I’m not actually responsible for your father’s behavior and actions. I’m only responsible for my own. I understand that you may never forgive me for going, but I needed to protect myself, too.” Her eyes flickered closed and then opened again. “He got so angry when he was drinking. He was always at his worst behind closed doors.”

Pel drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Could he understand that? If he’d had somewhere else to go, would he have gone? Even if it meant leaving Bav and Lara behind? If he’d had a chance to be safe and to feel loved and protected? Pel hoped he would have stuck with his siblings… but he would have been awfully tempted. Who was to say what choice he would have made if it had actually been in front of him?

He knew what he’d experienced as a child, but he didn’t know what being married to his father was like. When he thought back to those days, he didn’t remember it being so terrible. But was that just because his mother had shielded him from the worst of it? Was it because his father had always treated his wife differently than his children?

Some choices were almost impossible to make. Pel loved Tor enough to accidentally bond with him, but in a moment of hurt and upset, he’d turned his back on him. Yes, he’d gone back, but it was a reminder that emotions weren’t logical and sometimes there were no good choices.

Even if he couldn’t totally forgive, maybe he could understand.

Pel exhaled slowly and then met his mother’s anxious eyes. “I can only look back on that time with childish eyes and memories. I imagine you protected us from some of it. I’ve lived half my life without you, and I spent all that time thinking it was because you’d been taken from us against your will. I missed you. A lot. I thought of you all the time, and I thought of what it would have been like if you were there when I Manifested as Unremarkable.” Pel’s lips wobbled, but he sniffed and didn’t let himself cry. “It was the first time I realized that Father’s love was finite and came with a lot of conditions. Maybe you realized that a lot sooner than I did.”

Pel would never want anyone to be forced to remain married to someone they no longer loved or who was harmful for them. That was easy to say when it was a theory. It got a lot harder when there were children and rulers and consequences that had to be lived with.

He cleared his throat. “Did you go to live with the exiles right away?”

It seemed he’d found his voice properly now, and he hadso many questions.

She nodded. “I’d already made plans. I’d been trying for years to get your father to be more reasonable towards the exiles. I knew I couldn’t stay in Tond, and I didn’t want to offer my Fealty to any other sovereign—or risk what might happen if your father caught word of me being in another realm. The exiles supported a way of life that I admired, and I truly believed that their situation could be bettered. Plus, this close, I could still get news of you from time to time.”

Bav was glowering, and he ground out, “I’m surprised you bothered.”

“I’m truly sorry,” their mother repeated, looking at Bav with distress.

He sprang to his feet, all tightly leashed energy. “You didn’t have to listen to your little brother and sister cry every night because they thought their mother was dead!”

He stomped off, skirting past Cavun at the entrance to the cave without a word. Cavun had his back to them, observing the rain falling and probably trying to give them the illusion of privacy.

Pel remembered how Cavun had told them—when was it, yesterday? The day before?—that other families weren’t like theirs. Ha! If only he’dknown the half of it.

Tama rose to her feet.

“He probably needs a few minutes,” Pel cautioned.

She nodded. “I know. But he shouldn’t be alone.”

Pel stared after her as she pulled up the hood of her cloak and disappeared into the rain. Just how welldidshe know his brother?