Page 205 of Shadow Queen
Soren shook his head. “You’re mistaken. My father was Tyrhar Nazim, captain of the Crest and lord of Bahoul.”
Her rage sparked through the air. “Rhalstad thought he could hide you away, his son of a whore! She wasn’t even a wife! When he had his captain of the Crest take you both to Bahoul, I knew. I knew!”
“That’s not true,” Soren said, but Norah could see the fear on his face.
Salara-Mae stepped forward, pointing a long, thin finger at him. “I watched you!” she seethed. “Always watching him! Always close! You were always scheming, just looking for your opportunity.”
Norah’s mind raced. Soren’s claim to the throne wouldn’t be a strong one if his motherwasa concubine, but he would have one nonetheless, and an even stronger claim if the nobles didn’t support the current king.
Soren stumbled backward, shaking his head. “No, that’s not true,” he said again.
“I saw the way you looked at him. You envied him! You envied what he had! You wanted it for yourself.”
But Soren would never betray Mikael.
“Enough!” Norah cried, finally gathering the strength to stand.
Soren backed up, toward the ash-wood doors, his eyes filled with sorrow and disbelief, then he turned and staggered out into the side hall.
“Soren,” Mikael called after him, but the commander didn’t stop. “Soren!” he called again. He looked back at his mother.
Salara-Mae stood smugly, with her face covered in hate.
“You have no idea your ignorance,” Mikael snarled at her.
“My ignorance!” she snapped back. “You defend a man with a claim to your throne, who your army follows. He can take everything from you!”
“He’sgiveneverything to me!” he thundered.
“You’re a fool,” she said, and stormed from the hall.
Norah looked to the open doors of the hall, and her blood ran cold. Several of the nobles stood, watching them. They turned and left quickly.
Norah’s mind reeled from the exchange she had just witnessed and the events of the past several weeks. What had just happened? Soren was Mikael’s half brother? And now the nobles knew—on top of everything else—they knew.
Mikael stood. Lost.
Finally, he sank down onto his throne. She crossed the space between them and stepped between his knees, taking his face in her hands and drawing his eyes up to look at her.
“Do you think she speaks the truth?” he asked hoarsely.
Norah was hesitant. She didn’t know. “I think…shethinks it’s the truth,” she said finally.
“But do you?” he asked. “Do you think Soren’s the son of my father?”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “We don’t know that.”
He let out a breath, his eyes rimmed red. “Don’t we? Evenyousaid a child of Soren could pass for my own. I didn’t see it before, but…” His voice fell.
“We don’t know that,” she repeated softly.
“Why else would she hate him the way she does? Why else would she think he was after power? Even as the son of a concubine, he’d have a claim to the throne, a claim he could use to challenge me—a challenge that grows stronger with no heir.” He looked up at her. “Why would she lie?” he whispered. “Do you think she lies?”
She ran her gaze over the darkness of his eyes and the strength of his jaw. The line of his nose and the shape of his brow. His black hair, dark like the night, with a faint curl. And his stature—how he stood, how he walked. All like Soren. She couldn’t deny it, and she shook her head slowly.
Mikael squeezed his eyes shut and let out a shaking breath, and she pulled him to her.
Norah stood in front of Soren’s chamber door. She raised her hand to knock. And stopped. She spread her palm against it. This news would have devastated him.
