“Yes, and yes.”
“What’s my brother’s name?” she whispered.
“Alaric Van Ambrose.”
“Alaric.” She dropped the papers, grabbed the cocktail and tossed back half the contents. The warm slide of liqueur and cream took some of the edge off the whirlwind swirling inside her chest. She had a brother. A father. A family. Why had they never met? Had her father not wanted her? Had Mom known about her half brother?
“How long have they known about me?”
“Your father only found out about your existence last month. I expect your half brother only knew for slightly longer than that, as he conducted his research.”
Relief made her knees weak. If her father had known about her all along and not sought her out, she wouldn’t have been able to bear the pain.
“Where are they?”
“In Linnaea.”
She frowned. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s a small country that lies on the coast of the North Sea, wedged between Belgium and the Netherlands.”
Pride rang in his voice.
“You’re from there.”
Cass blinked in surprise before his handsome features settled into a blank mask. “Originally, yes. I’ve lived in the country of Tulay since I was eight.”
“I haven’t heard of Tulay, either.”
“Another small kingdom, a principality, between Spain and France along the shores of the Mediterranean.”
“Ah. Maybe you can draw a map of all these countries I haven’t heard of before sometime.” She winced. “Sorry. That sounded snarky. I’m just...this is a lot to take in.”
Cass reached over and grasped her hand, wrapped his fingers around hers. For a moment she resisted, her fingers stiff. But as she looked back down at the photos and papers scattered across the bar, she relaxed and accepted his offer of comfort.
She breathed out. “Okay. So my father gave you this?”
The hesitation was so slight she almost missed it. “Yes.”
Her earlier wariness returned. Cass wasn’t being entirely honest with her. “Why?”
“Because he needs your help.”
“My help?” she repeated.
He handed her another envelope. This one was made of heavy cream material, an emblem of a key and sword crossed over a crown imprinted in the red wax seal on the back. Her fingers drifted over it. She’d seen this before once...an old envelope she’d found in the attic. The seal had been broken, the letters inside written in French. When she’d brought it to her mother, her mother had turned without hesitation and tossed it into the fire.
“Just old letters,” she’d said casually. But Briony hadn’t missed the tightness about her mother’s mouth, nor the tense set of her shoulders.
“This seal...what is it?”
“The royal seal of Linnaea.”
Her mind screeched to a halt. “Royal seal?”
“Your father is King Daxon Van Ambrose of the country of Linnaea. Your mother was his lover during the summer after her semester at Oxford.”
Laughter bubbled up inside her. Once she started laughing, she couldn’t stop, laughing so hard that tears threatened to roll down her cheeks. Cass watched her with an unblinking gaze, but she didn’t care. He’d put so much into pulling an elaborate, albeit extremely cruel, prank on her.