She smiled. “What a pleasant surprise, Prince Jamil.”
Jamil frowned on the inside at the use of his shorter name. It was generally considered in poor form to use a royal’s short name unless specifically invited to. But he decided to ignore the slight, for the time being.
“I won’t take much of your time. I’m sure you’re busy preparing to hand over the reins of the clan to Prince Samir.” His use of her son’s short name wasn’t careless: Prince Samir had invited him to use his short name.
Dalatteya smiled wider, pride flashing across her beautiful face. She might be pushing sixty, middle-aged by Calluvian standards, but she was still very beautiful, her violet hair and dark-blue eyes contrasting nicely with her pale skin. “Indeed I am—there is an inordinate amount of paperwork—but thankfully, my son’s coronation is still more than a year away and I have time to get our grand clan’s affairs in order.”
Jamil nodded, knowing it was a rather unique situation. Since the direct line of the Fifth Grand Clan had been extinguished years ago, Dalatteya’s son was due to ascend to the throne on his twenty-fifth birthday. The situation was even more complicated by the fact that there was some uncertainty that the former heir to the throne was dead.
“I imagine it must be a legal nightmare, since Crown Prince Warrehn’s death is still unconfirmed,” Jamil murmured sympathetically, watching carefully for her reaction.
Dalatteya sighed, her face becoming somber. “I’m afraid there is no question about my nephew’s death. It’s all just formality at this point.”
“I thought Prince Warrehn’s bondmate claimed that his bond was still intact? Doesn’t that indicate that the prince must be alive?”
Dalatteya frowned slightly and shook her head. “I consulted with the High Adept of the High Hronthar. He said that sometimes childhood bonds are faulty and a person might not feel the death of their bondmate. It is rare, but it happens. Besides, if Warrehn were alive, he would have come home years ago. It’s been eighteen years.” She sighed. “Now, I’m sure you are here for a reason. I’m aware that you rarely socialize after…” Her expression was kind and compassionate. “I can’t stress enough how sorry I am for your loss.”
Her tone sounded absolutely sincere, but something about her emotions made Jamil eye her curiously. Ever since his bondmate’s death, his telepathic abilities were a little stronger. He had been told that it was normal, but it still slightly disconcerted him. He could sense another person’s surface emotions better, and right now Dalatteya didn’t feel sad at all, despite her compassionate expression.
It made Jamil a little wary. He’d never thought Dalatteya was anything more than she presented to the world—a charming, kind, very capable woman—so this was something of a surprise.
“Thank you,” Jamil said. “I actually came here because I would appreciate it if you share with me all information you have on the rebels. I’ve heard your clan conducted massive search operations when your nephews were kidnapped.”
Dalatteya stared at him for a moment before nodding slowly. “I’ll have to ask my assistant to find the old reports, but truth be told, I don’t think they will be very useful for you. We were unable to locate the rebels’ base and we stopped searching years ago. I lost all hope I’m afraid.”
Again, there was that faint feeling of falsehood that contradicted her sincere expression.
Jamil kept his face carefully neutral. “I still would like to take a look at the reports, if you don’t mind.”
Dalatteya gave him a look that could only be described as pitying. “Forgive my forwardness, Your Highness, but you should let go. Holding onto your grief will not change anything. I understand that you want to get revenge against those despicable people, but it wouldn’t bring your bondmate back. No one knows where those wretched creatures are hiding. You won’t find them by reading old reports.”
There. He was sure he detected a hint of worry.
For the first time, Jamil allowed himself to seriously entertain the idea that Rohan had told him the truth—entertain it rationally rather than just trust his instincts. It all fit with what Rohan had told him: Crown Prince Warrehn who went missing years ago, presumably kidnapped or killed by the rebels; assassination attempts over the years; Dalatteya’s son who was about to ascend to the throne soon; a powerful enemy the rebels had made.
Dalatteya, for all her gentle manners, was a very powerful political figure. She was highly respected and admired for successfully preventing a civil war and ruling the Fifth Grand Clan with an iron fist as the regent. She had countless supporters in the Council, both among the royal houses and the elected members.
But it was still hard to believe that Dalatteya might have anything to do with Mehmer’s death. What would she do it for?