There was an awkward silence while everybody avoided looking at each other.
Derek sighed and ran a jerky hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Lady Casea got up from her seat. “I’ve had quite enough of this squabbling. There are still soldiers’ wages and widows’ allowances to be distributed, and I have work to do. Ayleen, come.”
With an apologetic glance at Derek, Ayleen followed Casea out the door.
Derek slumped on the table, propping his head with his right arm. He wasn’t used to being in his mother’s rooms without her there, however he was in no hurry to leave. They were all tired, hurt, and confused. Derek had barely slept since signing the temporary truce between Camria and Mulberny. The nagging ache in his shoulder had worsened, and now his head was throbbing as well. But he welcomed the pain. It was the only thing keeping him from numbness—and he couldn’t afford to sink into it at the moment.
This was not how he’d imagined coming into his inheritance. Shouldering responsibility was not unfamiliar to him. His father had been more than happy to let Derek handle the more mundane affairs of daily life in the keep and the surrounding villages—even though Derek sometimes thought it was so he’d have someone to criticize. But this…this was almost too much to take on. He was good with a sword and possessed sound common sense, which was perhaps enough for a minor ruler of a small fiefdom, but now he had to admit he was in over his head. Despite trying to present a solid front to his family, he had no idea what to do to prevent more harm coming to them.
Ivo coughed delicately, drawing his attention.
“I didn’t want to say anything in front of Mother, but there is something you should know before you make a decision.”
Derek raised his head. He didn’t like the sound of that, but what could possibly make this entire affair even worse than it already was?
“What is it?”
“Did you know that Lord Callan was married before?”
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The Exile Prince Page 8
