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FERRIN STOOD BEFORE the hearth, after having eaten a hearty meal with his two families, and felt a warmth within him that he hadn’t in quite some time.
He swirled the wine in his glass as he watched them all intermingle in the parlor room they’d retired to. Arrius was on his umpteenth tumbler of ale, as was Ylid. Valynce was having fun playing cards against them, and his mother had gone to bed for the evening with a smile on her face.
Otsana walked over towards him, and he was struck again by her beauty as the firelight traced her. But his mind swept to Evyn rebelliously. She’d gone to bed early telling them she thought it was the spell that had drained her energy, but as he smiled ruefully at Otsana, he thought about how the day had gone, and doubted Evyn had been honest.
The corners of her lips lifted slightly in return, lifting her glass in a way of greeting.
“So, you’re Ferrin now?” she said, leaning against the other side of the hearth.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a way of answering. “I always have been, and I should have told you sooner.”
She nodded. “Yes, you should have.”
They remained silent for a moment, each taking a sip of their wine.
“Perhaps you could tell me more about why you felt the need to hide it from me—from us?”
He took a deep breath, then took a large gulp of his wine. “I can.” He took another swig. “Do you know anything of my family?”
She shook her head.
He nodded. “Well, you see, the duke is my stepfather.”
Her eyes widened.
“The father who sired me was the head of the duke’s royal guard. He died protecting him. I was three, so I didn’t know him well.”
She bit her lip, brows tenting in the middle. “I’m so sorry, R–Ferrin.”
“It’s alright. It was... a long time ago, and as I said, I barely knew him. Instead, I grew up with the Wolf Duke. A man reputed for his strength and prowess in battle, as well as his power and intimidation in court,” he explained. “I always admired him, wished I could be more like him, but then our courts split. King Malachius to the North, and our family moved here to ally with King Wildrameth in the South. My father admired Wil’s bold ambition over Mal’s underhanded defensiveness. Called it cowardly.”
She said nothing, seeming to be waiting for him to continue, so he did.
“Growing up here, after the Great Split, and even somewhat before that... Everything stunk of fear and paranoia,” he said, feeling his nose wrinkle in disgust as the thought of the Corynthian priests with their whispers of imminent threats and the brawls between family and friends alike in the streets. Politicians murdered in their beds, loved ones held hostage. Talk of spies in their midst. “The border towns are still known for their violence. North pitted directly against South, neither one trusting the other. Both claiming not only superiority, but that it would be the fault of the other that the War would come. My stepfather decided to ally with the South, as I said, and so here we came. I was 10 and didn’t have much say in the matter.”
Otsana looked away and he hesitated, but then she looked back up and nodded that he could go on.
“I knew I had to do something, and that’s when I met Arnes. I’d traveled all the way down into the catacombs outside the Gates of Nemos to learn more about fate and its design, hoping I could find something,” he realized she knew some of this part, only not how it pertained to him as a Duke. “I felt responsible, you see, being so close to the King, and being the heir to the dukedom. It would be my people that were murdered by their own brethren, torn apart by a prophecy.
“My desperation grew when my sister became betrothed to the king.”
Her eyes widened again and Ferrin nodded.
“Not only am I the duke, but my sister would be queen as the world fell apart. I could not—I cannot let that happen.”
She nodded, opening her mouth, but he held a hand up slowly.
“There’s more—I’ve only officially been the Duke the past three years. I wanted you to know that. My stepfather fell ill and passed down the title to me. He’s tucked away in one of our other estates, heavily guarded for his final days, so you’ll never have to meet him... and this isn’t an excuse for what you’ve been through, or my lack of action, but I want you to know I didn’t neglect you or your people on purpose,” he explained urgently. “I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long, but I swear to you that from this moment forward, I will also work tirelessly toward finding them aid and justice, to pay them back for what we did to them all those years ago.”
Otsana’s eyes glistened with a rim of tears and Ferrin gave her a small smile. She pursed her lips and then slapped him, his face stinging on impact, head turning to face the fireplace. Ferrin’s hand flew to his cheek to soothe it, turning to stare at her in shock, when she flew at him with her arms wide, embracing him.
“Oi! What’s going on over there?” he heard Arrius ask.
Ferrin reached down to hug her back, understanding washing over him.
“I believe that’s forgiveness,” he heard Ylid explain.
“I would have to agree. That’s how he earns it, usually,” Valynce chimed in.
He chuckled and felt Otsana laugh against him before she pulled away.
“You were a fool and I want to stay angry with you, but I’ve decided that I forgive you,” she said, grabbing her wineglass from the mantel. “As long as you uphold your promises with action, not just words... and I want to lead it. I want to be the one who gives my people what they deserve.”
Ferrin took a step back so that he could give Otsana a full bow, hand to his chest and all. “It would be my honor to follow you in this endeavor.”
As he stood straight, she said, “It has always been my goal to find justice, not vengeance, so if this is what Xedara wills, then I shall follow her torch, and believe that the Divine are finally answering my prayers.”
“Well, you all have already been helping to answer mine, so you have my gratitude, always,” he replied. “I owe you all a great debt, as I said before.”
She punched him lightly in the arm. “For now, let’s go beat them all at cards.”
Ferrin grinned. “Gladly.”