Mermaid Tear (The Fated #2)

15 | Avoidance

Despite Kain's continued insistence, the chance to question Isidor didn't come until later that night after they finished making their purchases.

Their group gathered in the room the three men had elected to share in order to save funds. Which was how Kain ended up settling on the end of his bed with Natia curled at his side. Rhode and Mara took the room's sole chairs, while Callias brooded with his back against the wall. Dalphie hummed beneath her breath as she set about brewing tea with water provided by the inn.

Predictably, the witch of the hour didn't even attempt to appear interested in the conversation. He sprawled over the length of his bed, arms tucked behind his head as he studied the ceiling. Kain cut back a sigh, already sensing how fun an experience this was going to be.

"Do you need help deciding where to start?" he prompted.

Isidor snorted. "No."

A second passed and Kain found himself counting the spoons of sugar Dalphie was heaping into her personal teacup. Anything to distract him from responding irritably--he had a feeling that would only encourage the teen's attitude.

"I lied about my grandfather."

Kain scrambled to remember what little Isidor had shared of his family throughout their travels. "Your grandfather...? The one Koun blessed?"

"Mm. Yes and no. That is the grandfather I am referring to, but he wasn't the one blessed by Koun. I lied about that."

"Why?" Rhode asked.

From where he sat, Kain could easily catch the sardonic quirk of Isidor's brow. "Why? Well, I don't know, Your Majesty, why might one conceal aspects of their heritage? It isn't as if powerful people tend to grab the wrong attention so close to the border or anything."

"Isidor," Kain groaned.

The witch rolled his eyes, before pushing one hand into the mattress to prop himself up on the bed. Had Kain not been watching him closely, he might have missed the uncharacteristic tension lacing Isidor's frame, even as that familiar, ill natured frown remained in place. He's nervous.

As personally frustrating as the matter was, it was also fitting--and somewhat familiar--to see someone as naturally sharp-tongued as Isidor became impossible when under pressure. Iliana was similar.

"If it wasn't him, who was it?" Callias asked.

The question served its likely purpose, as Isidor sighed, but returned to the subject at hand. "My father."

That makes him second generation. It was unheard of for someone of so much power to remain unknown--especially in a place like Eol that so heavily prided itself on wealth and titles. But, it ultimately made the most sense. Isidor was stronger than any other witch Kain had met...not that he'd met all that many.

"The story itself is only slightly different," Isidor continued. His tone was passive, as if the tale belonged to someone else. "Rather than being an adventurer blessed in passing, he was a war medic."

Kain starred as his thoughts raced. War? Eol was infamously neutral. Was Isidor's family from somewhere else, then? His mind caught on a single, now important detail: Melas was a former Nubellan noble.

Was that it their connection?

"The best way I can think to explain what you saw, is to explain him. So...yeah. At the time, the kingdom found it difficult to scrounge up as many witches as they needed for the casualties they were facing. War with the empire is costly. So, anyone who had a scrap of medical knowledge was dragged off to an army camp, magic or not. From the stories Melas tells, my father saved countless with skill alone, including His Majesty. It must have drawn attention from Koun, because one month before the siege of the capital, he made his offer."