Swiftcurrent Creek But in a much more real sense, I had no idea what to do.

A less trained man would have withered before the girl’s eyes at the disappointing news. Instead, masked, Akavir maintained his neutral facade, though his mind was swiftly at work, keeping the information for now. A marriage for politics—a prince. His Lilitu seemed to have fallen back into the hands of yet another royal empire of sorts, much like the one he had tried to pull his family from before.

All for naught.

He wanted to ask what sort of politics—what did it benefit either Brecheliant or Akashingo. But no, he held his tongue—this surprise and precious moment was for he and his daughter to reunite. And come time, he would certainly be banging down the door of his old home—he sure as hell would be questioning Maia just what she played at, as if his daughter were a chess piece on a board.

“Arielle?” The name of his assumed dead daughter drew his attention with a snap, the flare of his eyes fast upon her. “Never since she disappeared and I went to look for her, bab—“ he bit the word off—she was no longer a pup—she was grown, and the word now felt almost foreign on his tongue. “Have you?”