Swiftcurrent Creek twelve years a slave

“That's right,” Ira murmured in agreement when she corrected him. In truth it didn't really matter to him what he was. It wasn't as if he could change it. For too long had he assumed that persona that he didn't know how to be anything else...wasn't even sure he wanted to be anything else. At Bones' question the pallid Princeling hesitated, unsure if he should tell her that Jinx herself had banished him months ago or not. He wanted to be honest with her but not honest enough that she felt bad. He regretted that Jinx and him had fought but he did not regret trying to save Bones. He would do it again in a heartbeat. “It's not her pack anymore and they have nothing for me,” He told her simply with a casual shrug of his shoulders. Jinx had founded it, yes, but there was nothing left of her there anymore. He wanted nothing to do with them anyway, for they had let her die. In the end, as far as Ira was concerned it was they would have betrayed her. “Do you want me to stay with you? I have no commitments, nothing keeping me away.” He was a free agent — a Princeling with no throne. “The future is open.” For the both of them, he believed. “I'd like that...and maybe I can meet your father. I mean...only if you want.” He realized how it might have sounded and, furthermore, how it might have looked to anyone outside of them and he didn't want to put her in any sort of uncomfortable position.