Azaren patted his wife’s hand. “Don’t worry so much, my love.” My father turned his attention to Kildaren and Rhiannon. “If the betrothal is not valid in the first place, then that is another matter altogether. Is it not?”
Kildaren’s eyes narrowed and he sneered. “You can’t prove that.”
“But I can,” said Rafe, as the great double doors to the throne room opened, and the King of Eldoren strode in. He looked dashingly handsome as always, especially with his midnight-blue cloak swirling around him. His storm-gray eyes flashed with anger.
My heart skipped a beat like it always did when Rafe walked into a room. What was he doing here? When we parted after the battle, Rafe returned to Eldoren. He had said he would be back, although I hadn’t thought he would come so soon. But it didn’t matter why he had come. He was here, and that was all that mattered.
My brows furrowed. Rafe was accompanied by none other than the Duke of Silverthorne. They were all up to something. I couldn’t help but smile then. If Silverthorne was here, then he must have a plan. My granduncle always had a plan or two up his sleeve. It’s what earned him his newest title of kingmaker.
My father ignored Kildaren and smiled at Silverthorne. “Do you have it, Gabriel?”
The Duke of Silverthorne nodded. He looked solemn, but there was a spark in his azure-blue eyes. I knew that look; it was the same look he had when he could see all his plans falling into place. I wondered how he was going to fix this mess.
Rafe held up an old worn scroll and handed it to Silverthorne.
I stepped closer and my eyes widened. I recognized the scroll. It was the same one Rafe had been searching for that night in Silverthorne Castle when I found him in my granduncle’s study. I wondered what could be so important about it that Rafe had gone looking for it in the middle of a war when the world was falling apart around us.
Kildaren stepped forward and snatched it out of my granduncle’s hand before he could give it to my father. “What’s this?” He opened the scroll and read it, his eyes widening as his mouth fell open.
“That, I believe,” said my father, stepping in, “is a contract. One that was made a very long time ago. The year Aurora was born.”
My eyes widened like Kildaren’s. I wasn’t expecting that. I looked at Rafe. “What contract?”
Rafe glanced at my father and back at me. His eyes softened. “Shall I continue?”
My father waved his hand. “Please do.”
“This contract,” said Rafe, gesturing to the scroll clutched in Kildaren’s hand, “is a betrothal contract made by King Azaren of Illiador and my father, King Petrocales of Eldoren. The contract between Tristan and Aurora has never been valid, since Princess Aurora Firedrake of Illiador was betrothed from the day she was born—” he paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he slipped his hand through mine, and announced, “—to me. Prince Rafael Ravenswood, now King of Eldoren.”
My mother’s face broke into a smile, and Penelope sniggered as she caught my grandmother’s eye. I couldn’t help the wide grin that had started to spread across my face.
Izadora smiled faintly at her sister and moved forward, holding out her hand. “Let me see the contract.”
Kildaren handed the fae queen the scroll, resignation in his eyes as he came to terms with his defeat.
The queen of the fae spoke. Her gold eyes shone as they regarded Rafe and me. “This contract between Azaren and Petrocales is binding.” She glanced at Kildaren. “Aurora’s betrothal to Tristan was never valid.” She turned to her daughter. “If I had known about this earlier, I would never have forced her to become betrothed to Tristan.”
“I would have told you, Mother,” said Elayna. “But we weren’t really on speaking terms after my marriage.”
Izadora’s lips turned up into something resembling a smile as she clasped her daughter’s hand in hers. “Well, I’m glad we are now.”
“Me too,” said my mother, flashing me a smile.
I looked up at Rafe, squeezing his hand. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
He drew me toward him, brought my hand to his lips, and kissed it. “I wanted you to be sure this was what you wanted, Aurora. I didn’t want to force you into anything.”
I raised an eyebrow. “So if I wanted to marry Tristan, you would have let me?”
He nodded, his gray eyes stormy as I gazed into them. His brow furrowed. “Yes.”
I smiled at this and raised my hand to his cheek. “Well then, it’s a good thing I’ve only ever wanted you.”
Rafe grinned and pulled me to him, tucking me in the nook of his arm. With his arm around my waist, we faced my parents.
But it seemed Kildaren was not yet done. “I’ve heard a rumor,” he said, striding over to Penelope, “that I have another son.”
Penelope’s eyes flashed with fury as she threw a glance at her sister, who looked away. My spine bristled as I glared at my grandmother. She must have been the one who told him, just as she had threatened to do. But it could just as easily have been Rhiannon, Tristan’s grandmother, who told her son about Kalen.
“Is this true?” Kildaren pushed. His gaze stole over all who were gathered, finally fixating on Kalen. There was no way Kildaren would not recognize him. Anyone who saw them together could see he had the same features as Tristan and the Grand Duke of the Night Court.
Kalen fidgeted. I could tell he was nervous, and I didn’t blame him. He had only just found out along with the rest of us that he was Kildaren’s son. But I also knew Penelope had tried to keep him away from Kildaren until he had learned to use his powers. If she had reservations
