Marshall frowned. "Why would we give up now when we're so close? Why should we abandon our missions? For decades we have sacrificed so much to see our kingdom restored. You may not see it Kendrick, but I do. Every day, witches are moving away from who we are as a people. They are abandoning the old ways, and the only thing that matters to them are their assessment scores. Storm Keep has become a corporation where the council is practically selling the services of our people to the highest bidder. King Kiran would never stand for this. He believes in the connection to nature and our Gods. King Kiran--"

"Is dead," Kendrick said softly.

Marshall stared at him. "You lie," he choked out.

Kendrick shook his head. "I wish I were. I buried them both, with my own hands, three hundred years ago."

Lily began to shake. "But we found a cabin; we found King Kiran's signet ring."

Kendrick looked at her, pity in his eyes. "Do you think that the king would leave something so important behind?"

Marshall took a deep breath. "They have to be alive, or everything was for nothing."

"They are buried about a half mile behind the cabin, in a small clearing at the edge of the forest, under a large oak tree." Kendrick's voice was calm, even gentle.

Marshall slammed his hands on the table. "How could you keep something like this a secret?" he demanded.

Kendrick looked him in the eye. "Who was I to tell? Their enemies knew they were dead, and their people had long since forgotten them."

Lily eyed him with suspicion. "Why you? Why did you know where they were? Did they contact you? Why couldn't you save them?" Her voice was filled with emotion.

Beside her, Kendrick clenched both fists. "You think I didn't want to save them? That I wouldn't trade places with them in an instant if I could?" He threw his head back and laughed.

Anne's eyes filled with tears. The laughter she heard wasn't born of mirth; it was dredged from the darkest places of his soul, through pain and a sorrow so deep she couldn't imagine ever smiling again after laughing like that.

Kendrick's macabre laughter echoed through the room. When he was done, his eyes looked empty. He smiled, but it was hollow. "Forget about your grandiose dream of a kingdom that will never exist. Even if he was still alive, I would never stand by and allow him to give up his happiness to serve a bunch of weak-willed sycophants who allowed their one true king to be routed from his home and chased like an animal." There was a sharp edge to his words. "Storm Keep deserves exactly what they got, a council that dictates their lives according to the rule of power."

Amelia stared at Kendrick as if she didn't know him. "You don't believe that."

Kendrick sneered at her. "Oh yes, yes, I do."

She shook her head. "No, you don't! If you didn't care, you wouldn't have deliberately chosen to live in Lower City where you could help the most people. You wouldn't have helped my brothers with the units. You wouldn't have sent spell after spell to witches outside the city to keep them safe. If you truly didn't care about anyone, you wouldn't have raised such a loving and kind brother. And you wouldn't have been my athair." Amelia's voice broke, and sobbing, she turned to Darian.

Darian glared at Kendrick. "You've hurt her."

Kendrick shrugged. "She's a crybaby; she's been hurting for other people her whole life."

Amelia wailed harder, and Darian ground his teeth together. "You and me, outside. Now!"

Kendrick twirled a hand at him. "Sorry, old man, I don't have time for a macho showdown."

Anne twisted her hands in her lap. She had to believe that Kendrick was doing this for a reason, but what reason could he have to hurt Amelia? She looked over at Meryn. Meryn was watching Kendrick closely and not saying a word. It was as if she, too, was trying to figure out what Kendrick was doing.

Marshall stood, eyes blazing. "You've gone too far! How dare you hurt my daughter? You'll make time for me, young man!"

Kendrick smiled lazily. "What do you care? You couldn't protect your king, and you abandoned your own daughter in the process. Tell me, why I should take you seriously? What are you going to do?" Kendrick stood, knocking his chair over. "Well? Your king is dead. You have no idea who your enemy is. You're clearly outnumbered and outmatched. What. Will. You. Do?" Kendrick drew out each word mockingly.

Marshall roared. "I'll fight! I will uncover the truth, and when I do, I will destroy the ones who killed our king. I will make our people face the truth. I will erase every assessment test and protocol our council has put forth!" Marshall drew in a shaky breath. "We'll start over."

Kendrick let his head fall forward, when he raised it back up, there was warmth in his eyes again. "Then it sounds like you have a plan." When he smiled, it was no longer empty or sardonic.

Amelia turned in her chair to face him. "I hate you!"

Kendrick winced. "Oh, my darling girl, I am more sorry than you will ever know. But I had to know how far your father was willing to go. You know I didn't mean any of it."

Amelia glared at him. "You called me a crybaby."

"Well, you are." Kendrick said, looking confused.

"I am, but you said it to be mean," Amelia pointed out.

"I said I was sorry."

"You owe me two rides," Amelia sniffled.

Kendrick sighed. "Fine. Two rides."