Chapter 24

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Sitting next to my idol for half an hour, listening to old men drone about a country I couldn't care less about, was less than ideal. I was about to pull my own hair out when I heard the emperor speak the words I'd been waiting for him to utter since I'd first entered the room. "Meeting adjourned. See you next week, gentlemen. I do hope you'll have better news for me next time, Lucian."

I tuck all the information they said into my brain. It might be useful to Avenlea when—if I got out of here. I hope Miles is making his way to Avenlea now. I hope he's safe on his throne and wearing his crown.

I start to get up when the emperor pushes me back into my seat. All of his advisors and ministers have already left the room, leaving me with Yuri and Wariu. She hadn't uttered a word, and I was starting to wonder if she was mute. I'd learned Avenlean sign language, but I doubt Edessian sign language will resemble it in any way, especially since the spoken languages are really different.

Thankfully, she puts me out of my misery and speaks. "So you're her..." She says it more to herself than to me, keeping her voice low enough that her father, who is now sitting on the other side of the table, can't hear her.

"Her?" I ask, bewildered that the woman I'd admired since the day I could walk could possibly know me beyond the fact that her father put a bounty on my head.

"You're Jasmine Curre... I've heard much about you." Her head tips my way in respect, and something that looks almost like admiration shines in her eyes. While I'm mustering up the courage to answer, the emperor deigns to grace us with his presence on our side of the table.

"What are my daughters talking about?" He slurs his words together, giving me the impression that he had something to drink while we were speaking.

I almost didn't hear his words, and when they finally registered in my brain, I let out the gasp I'd been holding since the moment I walked into this goddamn palace.

Gods, how many more surprises can I possibly take before I collapse?

"Daughters?" I scramble to get out of my chair and as far away from this man as possible. "As in plural?"

My eyes are wide as saucers, and I've started to sweat because it all finally makes sense.

How Miles had said that he knew my father.

How he knew that it wasn't Damiano.

Is this what he's been hiding from me all this time?

I watch as Yuri gets out of her seat and walks towards me slowly, as if she's approaching an injured lion that will strike at any moment.

Why would a man who calls me daughter want me dead or alive?

For the hundredth time in the past two years, I wish to be back in that cottage. I wish to be back to safety. I wish to have someone to cry to at the end of the day because that's all I've wanted to do for the past two goddamn years.

"It's not what you think, Jasmine." She's still looking at me with that unsettling look in her eyes, like she knows exactly who I am.

I take a few steps back when she tries to reach for me. Damn Miles and all his lying. His kingdom can burn in hell for all I care. I'm getting out of this palace, even if I die trying.

I can't take anymore of this. It's overwhelming and unsettling—learning more about yourself from strangers.

If the emperor is right about this, then I'm a princess of Edessa, meaning that Miles and I are related in a way. His mother being the ex-empress and all.

The thought makes me want to wretch.

"I'll explain everything, daughter." The emperor speaks from behind Yuri as if he's using her as a shield from me. This takes me back to the day I asked Melody if she was my mother.

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"Melly... Are you my mom?" I'd asked in all of my innocence. I was only around four. The day before, I'd accidentally called her 'Mama', and she told me to never call her that.

"No darling. And Bash isn't your father either."

"Who is my father?"

"Your father is one of the most powerful men in the world, but he's gotten sick in the last few years."

"Does he have the flu?" I'd gotten sick with a sort of flu a few days prior, making everyone care for me while I stayed in bed all day.

"Something like that. But between you and me, I'd say his sickness is mostly mental..." I hadn't understood what she meant then because I'd only known of physical illnesses and not mental ones.

"What about my mother?"

"She was very beautiful, just like you." She pinched my cheeks softly and laughed. "In fact, you look just like her. You didn't inherit any physical traits from your father at all."

Later that day, Cerise made me learn a ballroom dance, and when I'd performed it to her taste, she'd allowed me to spend the rest of my lesson painting. I'd painted myself. I looked into my bedroom mirror for an hour, trying to memorise my features.

When I'd offered the final painting to Melody that night before storytime, she shed a few tears and told me it looked just like my mother. I hung that painting in my room later that night so that I could look at it before I went to sleep every night.

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My eyes fill with tears at the memory, making Yuri stop moving towards me. She stared at me in confusion, probably not understanding the source of my tears.

I suppose Melly was right; my father really had a sort of mental illness. Only a mad man would call for his daughter's head like he did.

At least I don't have to feel guilty for killing my own father anymore. Now I know Damiano was nothing but a money hungry liar. 

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