Evian nodded and turned away, but before he had taken two steps she forced the words out. “Wait. One thing.”
The peach silk shimmered. A butterfly fluttered at his shoulder, curious.
“My father. What about my father?”
In the beautiful blue sky a flutter of pigeons rose from one of the Palace’s thousand towers. Evian did not turn and his voice was so quiet she barely heard it. “He is dangerous. He is implicated.”
“Don’t hurt him.”
“Don’t.” She clenched her fists. “He is not to be killed. Promise me now. Swear. Or I go to the Queen this minute and tell her everything.”
That made him turn, startled. “You wouldn’t…”
“You don’t know me.”
Iron-cold she faced him. Only her stubbornness would keep a knife out of her father’s heart. She knew he was her enemy, her subtle foe, her cold opponent over the chessboard. But he was still her father.
a conversation between Evian and Claudia Arlexa
Catherine Fisher’s Incarceron