"So the rumors are true." He said coldly as his gaze drifted downward toward the baby on her hip.

Her brows furrowed. "What rumors?"

"That you returned to Westeria and that you have a child now. That’s all everyone is talking about." His eyes remained fixed on Khamsin. The air turned stifling under the weight of his disapproval. "You bore his child."

All the joy she felt moments earlier disappeared.

"Torben—"

"I refused to believe it." He laughed bitterly. "I told myself it could not be true. But here you are, carrying the proof."

Circe instinctively tightened her hold on Khamsin, her protectiveness flaring like it sensed a threat. "Watch your words."

Torben ignored the warning in her tone. "You betrayed our people."

"I did no such thing!"

"You married him." Torben countered.

"I was forced—"

"And then you gave him a son." His voice rose. "As if marrying the man that butchered our kingdom wasn’t enough."

Khamsin blinked at the sudden loud noise.

The cheerful curiosity that had occupied him moments earlier faded. Now he looked between them with wide eyes and let out a startled whimper.

Circe immediately shifted him higher on her hip, rubbing gentle circles across his back.

Her tender actions only seemed to anger Torben further.

"Look at you. Protecting his wretched spawn." He sneered.

Circe slowly lifted her head, eyes blazing with anger at the blatant disrespect. "What did you call my son?"

Torben stared directly at the child.

"He is an abomination."

The word was like a slap across the face.

"Do not speak about my child that way." After his words, she wasn’t comfortable with him standing near her, and she liked even less the way his gaze lingered on Khamsin.

Torben scoffed.

"A monster spawned from the blood of—"

"I will cut you down if you try to finish that sentence." She said, cutting him off.

Her anger had reached a tipping point and the force behind her voice made him pause.

For the first time since he showed himself, Torben looked surprised.

But it lasted only a moment.

"You sound just like them now." He noted. "What have they done to you?"

"My son has done nothing to you."

"He is one of them." Torben shot back but Circe wasn’t backing down.

"He is my child."

"And his father conquered our homeland on his father’s command."

Khamsin’s lower lip trembled.

The tense argument clearly settled him. He squirmed against her side and grabbed tightly at her sleeve.

Circe’s anger deepened, not because of how much vitriol Torben was spewing. Because he was frightening her son.

"You saw what they did to us," Torben went on. "They took our lands. Our castles. Our birthright."

"You speak as if they simply woke up one day and chose to attack us. When we both know father is the reason that war happened to begin with." The fleeting look of surprise that shone in his eyes only fueled her tirade. "Yes, I know the truth. No matter how much you and father tried to hide it from me."

The silence that followed was deadly.

Torben took a step forward, already thinking of ways to deny it.

"They filled your head with their nonsense." He said and she could instantly hear the lie in his words.

"No. They told me all I needed to know."

He took another step. "You think you understand what happened? You know nothing." Then another. "You know nothing about war and ruling a kingdom."

Memories flashed inside Torben’s mind. He remembered waking up in a heap of corpses after the Lamorian soldiers had abandoned the ruins of his home, the stench of blood and death choking the air around him. Agonizing pain had torn through his side and for a time he had been certain he was already dead. Yet somehow, against all odds, he had survived.

Bleeding, fever-ridden, and barely conscious, he had dragged himself from the battlefield. He wandered for days through abandoned roads, sustained by nothing but sheer will. Filthy, starving, and grievously wounded, he should have perished a dozen times over.

Instead, fate intervened.

A band of Westerian loyalists found him and carried him to safety. They tended his wounds, nursed him through the fever, and brought him back from the edge of death. It had felt like a miracle then. Looking back now, Torben could only believe it had been a sign. The gods had spared him for a reason.

He still had a purpose.

By now he was close enough that Circe could see every line of fury carved into his face.

"Torben." Her voice hardened. "Stop. We all lost something in the war. Ragnar is making things right again by pulling all Lamorian troops. Westeria will once more be its own kingdom."

"That is not enough. We have lost too much. I have lost too much." He snarled. The contempt in his voice was unmistakable. "You were a princess. A bargaining piece. That was all you were ever meant to be. You existed to strengthen our house through marriage. You knew your place. You should have remained loyal to your family. Instead you spread your legs for the enemy and gave him an heir."

Rage exploded inside her and the air around her turned frigid. Years of humiliation rose to the surface. Years of neglect. Years of being dismissed, ignored, used, discarded.

"You have no say over what I choose to do with my life and if that involves being married to the king of Lamora then so be it."

Torben looked like he wanted nothing more than to throttle her. "You are a disgrace to House Valdris. You don’t deserve our name."

Circe reacted on pure instinct. Her power surged forward, reaching into the core of his being. Torben gasped sharply, stumbling back as if struck by an invisible force. His hand flew to his chest.

"What... what was that?" he breathed, eyes wide with shock. "How did you do that? Is this another way they corrupted you? Vile creatures like them are capable of anything."

Circe laughed and it was a truly menacing sound.

"Corrupted me?" She spat. But despite the rage burning in her soul, she knew he wasn’t just saying this because he wanted to rile her up. She could tell that he truly believed every word coming out of his mouth and that was somehow even more terrifying.

"You have the gall to call me a disgrace but when Mother was dying, where were you? When she was too weak to stand, where were you?"

His lips flattened into a tight line. Faced with her question, he had no retort.

He had not changed one bit in the time they spent apart.

"I was there. I sat beside her every day. I read to her when she was too weak to hold a book. I held Rowan when she couldn’t. I watched her suffer. I watched her die."

Torben opened his mouth but she cut him off swiftly.

"No. You will listen."

For once in his life, he did.

"I was there. Not Father. Not you. Me. Father claimed he loved her deeply. But when she needed him most, he couldn’t bear it. He abandoned her. He was too much of a coward to watch her die." This was something she had buried deep for years, but Torben’s harsh words had dragged it back to the surface, rekindling the old resentment she had long carried toward him and their father.

Still, she chose not to tell him the truth about Thalora. Knowing their mother was alive would change nothing about the situation.

"Enough."

"No. You do not get to tell me enough. Where were you, Torben? Out playing prince and heir to the throne while I watched our mother slowly fade away. You are the biggest disgrace to our family. And while you were in hiding, I became the queen of Lamora and Westeria. Speak about my husband or my son the way you just did again and you will have me to answer to."

She pointed toward the darkness beyond the walls. "Leave. Stay away from my family. If you value your life, do not come near my son again."

Her heart still ached. No matter how strained their relationship had become over the years, he was still her brother. But speaking ill of her child was a line he never should have crossed, and she found it impossible to excuse.

A man like him was no brother of hers.

Torben took a step backward. His face was pale and it was obvious that Circe had wounded his pride.

He looked at her as though he no longer knew who she was. Like he was staring at a stranger wearing her skin.

Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the gathering darkness.

Circe stood motionless long after he was gone.

Her chest heaved as she exhaled a long breath.

Immediately her expression softened.

She lowered her head and kissed her son’s forehead.

"I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I’m sorry you had to hear that. Forgive me."