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is—an impossible child, forged by an impossible love?”

This seemed to rile the crown princess. “Don’t you dare put my mother in the same category as you, you perverted old man. My mother was forced—my mother never asked for any of it, and it’s because of his kind and you disgusting Spellbreaker sympathizers that it happened to her. It wasn’t love, it was a foul, unwarranted attack on a pure-hearted woman. How dare you besmirch her name! How dare you try to defend what that awful creature did to her.”

“If you believe that, dear Alypia, you’re not nearly as smart as I gave you credit for—and I didn’t think you were smart to begin with,” he retorted, his own anger flaring. “Your mother loved a Spellbreaker, and you can’t deal with it. Everyone knew, and they would have continued to know the truth of it if I hadn’t covered it all up for her, saving her life in the process. What thanks have I ever had?” Caius snarled. “You must face the truth of the matter!”

Enraged, Alypia was in full swing now, spurred on by words she clearly didn’t want to hear. Fury flashed wildly in her pale eyes, her lips drawn back in a cruel sneer.

“You know how she died, don’t you—your Spellbreaker whore?” she gloated. “I saw it for myself, though I was only a child at the time. That sad, pathetic scream of her last hope being dashed, like her head upon the rock my father ended her tragic life with—after he’d torn everything from within her, naturally,” she muttered coldly, a devious smile upon her lips. Alex tried to squeeze his eyes shut against the mental image, but he couldn’t help but visualize the hideous scene.

“Don’t speak of her,” said Caius quietly, the torment clear in his golden eyes. As much as he currently wanted to dash Caius’s head against a rock, Alex couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity.

“I will speak of whom I please,” Alypia remarked churlishly. “It was for the best though, wouldn’t you say? The world is a much better place without their sort—though, quite the last laugh, right? Needing one to end this mess we’re in—a fairly surprising turn of events, though I don’t doubt that monster knew exactly what he was doing, cackling in our faces the whole time, knowing what would come of it. You tell me he cared about my mother, and still went ahead and did that? I’d say you’ve lost whatever sanity you had in your old age, Uncle.”

Alex wondered if there might be some truth to Alypia’s words, but then recalled that it was unlikely Leander Wyvern even knew Venus was pregnant with what would become Virgil. The threat from Alypia’s father had been geared solely toward Alex’s ancestor, as far as he knew; there was no knowledge of Venus’s unfortunate state. How could there have been? There hadn’t been time, nor any hint of suspicion on Leander’s part, seeing as it was ordinarily impossible to create a hybrid such as Virgil. In that final, split-second decision, Alex guessed that all Leander had wanted to do was destroy the mages and save his progeny, not realizing the Great Evil could be held back by a tide of unwillingly given essence. In performing the spell, Alex suspected his ancestor had thought only of the unborn child he knew about, growing in the belly of a non-magical woman—the one hope of Spellbreaker survival. The loophole of an entire race. When thinking in the moment, there was no time for the thought of future consequences. Leander had done what he had with the best intentions—of that Alex was almost certain.

“It seems we have managed to get somewhat off track, dear Niece,” said Caius, an eerie calm returning to the old man’s voice. “I wanted a negotiation, not a trip down memory lane. You are here for Alex, and I want something in return—a simple exchange.”

Alypia smirked. “I will take him, if you are unwilling to cooperate.”

“Try to remember my strength, dear Niece. I may look old, but there is fire in the old goat yet—I could destroy you and your guards before your next breath, so I wouldn’t recommend trying to steal my property.”

This revelation seemed to shake Alypia’s resolve for a moment, her lip trembling for a fraction of second, just long enough to be seen. Shrugging off the trepidation, she launched into another offensive move, evidently smothering her fear with bravado.

“Family is family, Uncle, no matter what our differences are. I wouldn’t try to steal something from you, just as I know you wouldn’t try to steal from me. That boy belongs to me—he has a debt to pay, and I want him to pay it. If you don’t hand him over, there will be trouble,” she said, her voice dripping with malice.

Caius smirked. “Now, now, things don’t need to get nasty. I am willing to negotiate—I have already told you as much—but I refuse to simply hand the boy over. I need to hear what you will offer in return, for the trouble of keeping him, if nothing else.”

She shrugged languidly. “How does the glory of the mages restored to their full power sound? No more fear, no more culling of exceptional talent, no more scraping the barrel with those half-formed plebeians we fetch from the outer world. Finally, there will be no more worrying about where we’re going to get our essence, though it’d be a shame not to keep a few of the lower classes around, in case we need to borrow some essence for anything major,” she mused, prickling Alex’s anger. “The mages will be able to get on with their lives and do as they please, with no trace of Spellbreaker left. It will finish the job my father, your brother, set out to achieve. It will mean justice for my mother, after what that monster did. Those are the greatest returns I can offer, for the price of this boy.”

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