She did so, revealing a similar picture of a small child with the same flaming red hair, with the label Calla.
“That’s my mother’s name.”
“But not your mother?” he prompted. Aledwen shook her head. There was no way the child in this picture turned into her mother. “Are you sure?”
“It seems highly unlikely,” she said uneasily, despite knowing her mother and this little girl shared a name.
“Turn the page again,” he said.
She sucked in a breath as the next image was revealed. This time, the drawing was of her mother. There was absolutely no doubt of that. But that’s what didn’t make any sense to Aledwen at all. Her mother didn’t have red hair, or a heart shaped face, or...
“I don’t think I understand.”
“Or you don’t want to?” Cyprus said softly, moving around so he could place his hands on her shoulder. The gesture was far more reassuring that she expected, and she leaned back into him, accepting the love and suppor
t he was giving. No. Not love. She had to stop her heart getting ahead of her, or she was going to end up in their thrall before she could even establish herself.
“Probably that.”
“Will someone explain?” Drey asked, looking thoroughly confused. Fane, on the other hand, had a look of understanding on his face. It had hit him at the same time it had her.
“Aledwen’s mother isn’t the real Queen,” he explained to the dragon. “She’s using elvish masking magic to hide something big. Probably the whereabouts of the actual royal family.”
“Meaning I’m not actually a princess.” Aledwen’s shoulders slumped, and she had to bite back the tears that were forming. She hadn’t quite realised how much she liked and wanted to be royal until that moment.
“Is that a bad thing?” Drey asked softly. “More time to do the things you want if you’re not.”
“But also less of a chance to make a difference,” she threw back instantly. It was the one thing that got her through each and every day. Once she was Queen, she could make a difference in the world, even if it was just to a handful of fae. Then again, once she was Queen, she’d probably have something to do with the Councils too, and the influence they had over the paranormal world.
“If it’s important to you, we’ll find a way to make sure you still can,” Drey said. Both Fane and Cyprus nodded.
Aledwen looked in the elf’s direction and raised an eyebrow, choosing not to ignore the fact he’d responded to a statement that made it sound like he too was hers.
Part of her hoped so, but he instantly averted his eyes again, which suggested he wasn’t quite there yet. That was okay. She’d convince him once all this was done, and her mother was....well, she didn’t know what she wanted her mother to be. Done with all the lying and the cheating and the taking stupid risks. That seemed like a reasonable request, even if she didn’t think so.
“How do we find out what really happened?”
“We keep digging,” Fane replied.
“We ask your mother,” Drey said seconds later.
“I hardly think she’s going to tell us, she didn’t even want to admit that the treaties existed until I told her I knew about them,” Aledwen pointed out, anger rising up within her. She hated that her mother had been so careless. But the fact her mother had lied to her...that was beyond infuriating. What had she ever done to deserve that? She’d been a good daughter, doing everything her mother wanted her to. Including staying away and out of politics. And despite that being her one true passion and something she longed to do more of.
“I can shift and we can ask. She seemed scared enough of Brandon.”
“No. You are not scaring my mother into an answer. That is not the way we’re going to do things.”
“Then what do you suggest, princess?” Fane asked softly. “Your other option is to ask your mother publicly, in a way she can’t deny.”
“Why can’t we do that?” Cyprus asked, walking around to take a seat, and trailing his hand along Aledwen’s back. Goosebumps followed his touch, and thoughts she shouldn’t be thinking assailed her.
“She’d probably just order our heads struck off,” Fane murmured.
“She’s the Queen of Spring, not the Queen of Hearts,” Aledwen joked. “But actually...”
“We can use the right of becoming your life partner?” Drey suggested.
“I don’t see why not,” Aledwen replied, thinking deeply. It was something she’d read about once, but dismissed as never likely to be useful. She’d always found it odd that a matriarchal society had a rule that allowed male mates to demand answers of their intended’s parents. But ultimately, the odd ruling worked in their favour, so she wasn’t about to question it now.