One of the castle’s many dining halls had been cleaned out and set for the day’s lunch. Ellanor, to her surprise, arrived before the Duke, finding herself alone in the room. It was not like the giant dining hall they had dined in that first night, but it was still larger than the private ones connected to each suite. The walls were paneled with white painted wood, windows along the back wall letting in what little light the storm provided; on the left a fireplace held whispering flames, casting the space in gold and orange. A large table occupied the centre of the room,  beautifully crafted in woods ranging from white to caramel brown, the veneered top a perfect depiction of the statue at Water Edge. Ellanor was lost in studying the art when the doors opened and Duke Dalton stepped inside.

“Ah,” he exclaimed, “I apologize for my tardiness, Madam Skyward.”

Ellanor straightened, smoothing out her skirts with a hand. “Not to worry, Duke, I just arrived myself.”

He smiled and walked over, staying at a respectful distance from her. He nodded at the table. “Beautiful, no? I had it made when I left my apprenticeship under Reigh.”

“It is truly a masterpiece. You seem to like that place.”

“The temple taught me many things about myself, as I told you before, but more than that it was my home for many years. I owe who I am to Reigh and her people.” He gestured to the far end of the table where the table is set for two. “Shall we?”

Ellanor nodded and took up one of the seats, Dalton sitting down across from her. Three servants filed in through a hidden entrance, bearing plates of food and pitchers of lemon infused water. They decorated the table and filled the goblets, before leaving the pair to their meal. To Ellanor’s surprise the food was modest, and just enough for the two of them. Dalton caught her perplexed look and smiled that warm smile of his.

“I do not like to see food wasted,” he declared. “Yvet has never understood this, believing a fully stocked table to be a sign of wealth and power, but whenever she is gone I make sure that overflow goes to those who need it more.”

Ellanor raised an eyebrow. “The avvir staff approve of this?”

Dalton huffed as he served himself. “They have little choice. Besides, I have a few trusted servants and guards who do not question me. And their pay keeps them from ratting me out to my sister.”

“Hmm,” Ellanor mused, “what about the Legionaries I saw outside Yvet’s rooms? Seems a bit odd to have them stationed in one’s own home, no?”

Dalton’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “They are just as much a show of power as anything else my sister buys, and she loves bringing them with her wherever she goes.” He waved a hand in the air, a hopeless gesture. “Lucky for us now that she is away,” he added, “and when she is at home they guard her rooms around the clock. Six of them.”

Ellanor thought of the two black winged women with their hard eyes and daunting armour. Born warriors owned by the Crown, practically slaves with little to no rights. The only thing separating them from humans was the respect everyone held for them – crossing a Legionnaire meant a certain death. “Courtesy of Grand Duchess Philippa?”

“Yes, somehow Yvet convinced her to assign them here,” Dalton nodded. “It would not surprise me if it was to get Yvet to stop bothering her about it.”

Silence fell as they ate, the only sound being the rain beating down on the windows and the crackling fire. When the serving plates were empty, Duke Dalton picked up the conversation again.

“Reigh gave you a lot to think on, I reckon.”

“Yes,” Ellanor said, leaning back in her chair. “You knew we would run into her.”

Dalton nodded. “I suspected we would, though I did not ask her to talk to you.”

“Would you have brought me to her even if I had not asked to visit the temple?” 

“Perhaps.” He thought for a bit. “It definitely passed my mind, but I knew it would also be a risk if Yvet found out. She is clever, the Duchess, and I would not put it past her to figure us out. It makes it easier to cover up since you asked me to go.” Leaning forward he rested his elbows on the table. “Do you have anything you would like to ask me? No better time than now.”

Ellanor looked out the window, at the storm outside. “I met Gallyia and Aeleon,” she said, not taking her eyes off of the clouds.

“Oh,” was all Dalton uttered.

Ellanor looked back at him. “You did not tell me of them.” Her words sounded harsher than she meant to.

The Duke did not shrink from her gaze, but there was sadness in his eyes. “I could not.”

“Why?”

“For I cannot risk them,” he said. “Telling you about your parentage, I risked only myself, and I was ready to live with the consequences of my choices. Have been for years.” The sadness in his eyes turned into something fierce, making Ellanor sit up straighter. He continued, “I consider Gallyia and Aeleon family – more so than I do my sisters – even if they do not revere me with the same spirit.”

“Aeleon is not your son.”

“No,” Dalton said, “that is true.” He laughed a sad laugh. “The boy he was died along with his mother and sister, and he blames me for it – rightfully so, might I add. I made it my duty to watch over the two of them, keep them safe.”

Ellanor could not help her surprise, her attention snagging on one detail. “Aeleon did not know of me?” Had he found out when she did, or just moments before their meeting the night before? 

The Duke shook his head. “Gallyia and I decided it was best so. He was just a boy, and although he knows not to run his mouth we could not risk it. The fewer who knew the truth, the better.” He stood up and walked over to the wall of windows, as if sitting down had become too uncomfortable. “He did not know about me either, until a few years ago” he adds.

At that Ellanor’s mouth fell open for real, manners tossed aside. “He never knew about you and Dorethy?” 

“No. How could we tell him? It was too big of a risk, and he was better off believing all avvir are dangerous and should be avoided.” Dalton laughed again and shook his head. “In those months leading up to your birth I wanted so badly to drop everything and fly off to somewhere we could all be safe and live as a family. A place where I could raise you and Aeleon without the prejudice between humans and Immortals.” He turns and looks at Ellanor, still seated at the table. “The thought has struck me many times over the past twenty-one years – to take you back from Lourelle and find a new home for us.”

Ellanor did not dare breathe, fearing the honesty in the Duke’s eyes would disappear at any wrong move. She whispers, “What stopped you?”

He looked down. “I would not know where to go. Nowhere in the Known World is safe, not truly. At least not a place where full blooded Immortals and humans are both accepted.”

Ellanor was quiet for a long moment, her head for once completely empty of thought. There were no words she could utter that would take away the Duke’s pain – none that were completely honest at least. They were related by blood, but she still felt distant when he spoke of her mother, as if they were not really talking about Ellanor. When she looked at Dalton she saw a stranger – a potential friend – but not her father.

A minute passed, then another, the silence stretching thin and the moment to say anything else passing. Eventually, Dalton straightened, the sadness gone from his eyes. He gestured around the room.

“This is the only room in the castle that I got to design,” he said, sounding rather proud. “It was a miracle Yvet let me do so, and she hates it to this day. All the more reason for me to use it.” He grinned at Ellanor, and despite their heavy conversation just moments before, Ellanor found herself smiling back.

“I think it is lovely, Duke,” she said, standing up. “Thank you for lunch, and for the conversation. I hope we get the chance to repeat it.”

Dalton smiles, and bows. “It was a pleasure, Madam.”