Kelton was unsure of what approach to take. He was consciously aware of his hands and posture, like a newly born without knowledge of how the world worked. The woman, his mother, looked equally confused.

"We must leave here," Juno announced, though it was directed to all others, not mother and son.

"I must speak to my son," the King said. He pushed his struggling wife to Verdi, who took aggressive control of the woman, bending her arm behind her back. Queen Margarey called out, causing Verdi to cover her mouth.

"Leave," Juno commanded, her hand pointing to the exit as if its location were unknown. "You are King of many things, but not of this." Kelton was unsure if the reluctant compliance that followed was a good thing. There was no buffer to absorb what was to come, nothing to help settle the new awkwardness that had weakened his confidence.

Juno relieved Kelton's back of spider's-bite, which he thought wise, and laid them on the table. He must have looked like a fool armed in such a way. She whispered in his ear before she left as well. "You need but listen."

"I was told you breathed no longer," Luran said. New tears followed the streams created by the first. "You were so small, so beautiful." Her arms formed a cradle for an imaginary babe. A bout of weeping began, one that shook her body, yet her eyes refused to leave Kelton.

Kelton's insides churned. He knew nothing of Luran, a stranger, only she was not. His own eyes began to betray the image of the man he thought to project. To cover the weakness, to smother the pain he could not bear to watch, he embraced his mother. A blessed warmth wrapped her arms around him. The Knowing swam in it.

Once outside, and Juno was able to release her anger, she slapped Gossamer. He allowed it and did not raise his hand nor move his head when she threatened to do it again. She knew Gossamer had his reasons but cared not to hear them. It was as if Gossamer had blinded Kelton and that Juno could not tolerate.

"It is not Noris's doing, it is mine," the King said. For the first time since Juno had entered the tent, the King's eyes lost their strength. "Kelton was to be told differently."

"You, I know not and like less," Juno said to the king, then her finger found Gossamer's chest. "Until this day, you had my trust. What if Kelton did not meet? What if his swords found his father's head in battle?" She raised her hands in defeat when Gossamer stood silent. "It would destroy him to know he did such a thing."

"It is why none were to know," the King said. "Power in this land is not in my sole possession as you seem to believe. It is at this time, now, and not before, that it shifts in my favor." He pointed at the tent. "In his favor. Any word before this day would have undone all. An unyielding King would stand in my place, chosen by this witch at the behest of her masters." He indicated Queen Margarey, who continued to struggle under Verdi's grasp. "Bind her," the King commanded as an afterthought. He signaled for the guards to move her closer to the tent, hidden from the eyes of the army.

The King sighed. "Know that If I could not hand him the crown, I would have let him take it." A smile formed, and his eyes seemed to lose focus in a dream. "I only desired a few winters of happiness for my boy. Never did I see him evading the Brethren as a man." He chuckled, indicating Striker. "Striker saw to his passage across the sea to further that cause. I thought him finally safe. Never did I see him returning, and never did I imagine the fear I now see in the Brethren."

"He returned for Juno," Gossamer said. The King's eyes widened, "She is his happiness."

Juno's hands found her hips, her anger refusing to abate. Queen Serinda moved next to her, sensing her need for a united front. "You have conspired all these winters. Did you think him too feeble for the truth?" Juno asked Gossamer.

"It was..." Gossamer began.

"Norgainen!" Queen Margarey screamed once her mouth became free. Even with the two soldiers who had helped Verdi wrestle her to the ground, the Queen had achieved a moment of freedom.

"Gag her," the King ordered. He knelt next to his queen and stroked her hair. "Striker informs me that Captain Norgainen is no longer breathing. An accident, it seems, trouble oiling his sword. Soon, you will join him in eternal sleep. No worries, I will bury you two together. I know not why that dullard would love a hag like you, but I will honor the devotion." Juno found the panic in the Queen's eyes hard to watch. At least the gag muffled her screams.

Kelton sat knee to knee with his mother, the chairs as close as they could be. Her hands held his as if they meant to imprison them forever. It was both unsettling and comfortable, a strange mix of perfect imperfection.

"I did not know," Luran insisted, not for the first time. "I would have found you had they not lied." She smiled as her eyes began to well again. "I am so angry and so happy, I can not see straight."

It came to Kelton in a rush, and he spoke as it filled his mind. "They could not tell us," Kelton said. The alternative was death for both of them. The mother of an Unseen would have been given no quarter, and the boy would have exposed it all as he sought her out. The King would not be King, and the Answer would still be only a tale. He smiled. "We breathe together now because we did not seek each other. A necessary and cruel conspiracy, for nothing could have stopped me had I been told your name. Many find me stubborn with such things."

"Stubborn - you get that from your father," Luran said. She laughed, a glorious thing to see. A moment of shared joy to help alter the oddness of their meeting. "I want to know of all the winters I have missed, and I want you to take winters to tell it."

"As do I," Kelton agreed. She did not care about Kings, Answers, or Brethren. There was no war in her eyes, and Kelton found that soothing. A dream of sorts, one where the land's problems were trivial things a mere gesture could solve. His following words leaked in a whisper, something forged at the moment, true yet unknown until then. "I have missed you."

Kelton's mother cradled his face in her hands, her smile showing both love and pain. "I wanted to die when they took you from my arms. I thought I had lost both of you."

"Both?" Kelton asked softly.

"A difficult birthing," Luran replied, shaking her head as if it were something best forgotten. "Two days I struggled, and yet once you were in my arms, it was all forgotten." She smiled. "Loud you were, your cries were like a songbird to my ears."

"There was another?" Kelton asked again. His throat tightened.

Luran's smile faded. "A sister, though she never breathed. We should not talk of such things, not now, not our first meeting."

"We were together - inside you?" Kelton asked. His strength was losing the battle with his eyes.

"Aye," his mother replied as concern filled her.

Kelton closed his eyes, an attempt to dam their flow. He took a deep breath and settled inside himself, seeking the Knowing, a powerful sense though little different from ears or eyes. Only once had it declared its independence, acting loud and distinct from his mind. The Knowing - she - was normal now, simply cooperative and easily identifying those outside the tent, Juno glowing differently than the rest. Being born Unseen was not the fluke he once thought.

"I should not have told you," Luran said.

Kelton opened his eyes to a face stricken with unnecessary distress. The truth of the Knowing was unfortunate, yet the beauty of her recognizing their mother was undeniable - instinctual love.

"Mother," Kelton said, the word seeming to bloom in Luran, "my sister is in me."

Gossamer hated the past days. The moment Verdi had come to their camp to negotiate a meeting, a self-induced sickness filled his gut. There were too many people he loved who now thought him less, all to keep a vow intact. He looked down at the bound and gagged Queen, desiring to cut her throat. She was the cause of it all.

"Kelton will hate me now," Gossamer whispered to the ground.

"Anger and hate are not the same," Juno said, overhearing his words. "It is your lack of trust that will irk him the most."

"It was a vow I could not break," Gossamer said. He looked to the King. "A debt for violating trust long ago."

"And paid in full," the King declared with a bow of his head.

"Kelton would have changed much had he known you conspired with this King," Juno said, her anger still leaking into the words. In a way, she was correct, but Gossamer had little choice. His weakness long ago saw to that.

"I have conspired only once," Gossamer said, a clarification he hoped would allow for some leeway. "An oath after Kelton's birth, and nothing more. I have not seen the King or his agents since. I gave my vow to provide Kelton with as many winters as possible and never to disclose his origin." He lowered his head. "Not even to Kelton himself. Though, more than once, I almost failed in that."

"Aye," Kelton said as he emerged from the tent, startling Gossamer. His hand held his mother's, who followed with joy in her eyes. "I should have dug at you, though it would have been to the detriment of all." He smiled, undoing much of the self-loathing Gossamer was beating himself with. "Though, a warning before I came to this meeting would have been kind."

"I had kept it so long, it seemed traitorous to speak it then," Gossamer admitted. He almost did tell Kelton, but fear failed to allow it to emerge. Better a moment more being Kelton's father than to end it early.

Kelton shrugged as if the failure was a trivial thing. A most welcome sight. He and his mother moved to Juno. "This is Juno, mother," Kelton said. The word mother danced in Luran's eyes, removing ten winters from her face. "She is all my days to come."

"If you are his happiness, then you are mine," Luran said. The women embraced as if they had known each other for a lifetime, the same joy invading Juno. Another welcome sight, for it helped to deflect Juno's righteous anger.

Kelton addressed the King, "You have been shown the Promise and know the sacrifice necessary." The King reluctantly nodded. "I was born Unseen, a product of an unbidden sacrifice." The King's eyes widened as if he knew what was coming, though Gossamer had no clue. "Your daughter did breathe, and she breathes with me now."

"Kelton," Juno said with concern.

"It is now my sister's war as well, my love," Kelton responded with strength in his eyes. He turned his attention back to the King. "How much of your army is already mine?"

The King was stunned by the question, or perhaps the revelation that he had claimed more than a son. "Half," he replied, then looked at Verdi.

"Mayhap more, my prince," Verdi replied. "Many more if you would but make yourself known to them." The soldiers who served under Verdi voiced their agreement with that assessment.

"The best of them are yours, my prince," Striker agreed, though he wore a sly smile that foretold violence against those who thought otherwise.

"This land is broken," Kelton told his new father. "I mean to unbreak it, and the cost may be our lives."

"So be it," the King replied.

"Then I shall claim you as father to further that end," Kelton said, then smiled and looked at Gossamer. "But know my heart believes you forfeited the title to another long ago." Gossamer found his strength again, for his son had not forsaken him.

"And a fine job he has done," the King said. He bowed low, catching Gossamer by surprise. Both fathers had sowed their pride in Kelton.

Kelton spoke to Queen Serinda, who nodded in agreement. Kelton smiled and spoke to Verdi's soldiers. "We have devised a way to kill those with the Knowing." He raised his hand and tightened it into a fist, then shook it like it held an angry weapon. "and even I can not stop it."

Gossamer reveled in Kelton's words, for he knew storyteller-timing when he saw it. Even the pause was expertly deployed. He taught Kelton that, and by the looks of the emboldened expressions on Verdi and his soldiers, it was more potent than the sword. Kelton had claimed the title of prince, but the soldiers saw a king.

Kelton had to admit his new father had a strong mind. It swam in the cesspool of history yet seemed to float to the top, not unlike Lord Brandish. They all gathered inside the tent once again. This time the sides of the table shared evenly since factions had been abolished.

"Choose one loyal to the Brethren," the King said to Verdi. "Send him to Magna'est with a message of progress. The talks will go through the night. Mayhap hint that the Sorinnian Queen leans toward the Promise, forcing the Answer into an untenable position." Queen Serinda chuckled when Kelton translated.

"Aye, sire," Verdi said and left the tent.

"Lord Brandish, how many other lords find the Promise too costly?" the King asked.

"There is talk, and there is passion," Lord Brandish replied. "Tinely and Yopner will see it our way." He shrugged. "The others? It is unknown, for age and greed eat at their minds."

"It is my thinking as well," the King said. "And how many of their men follow without question? The sums return, my old friend. Are we to have a war within a war, dwindling our numbers before we face the true enemy?"

"Nay," Kelton said. "We cannot ignite division in such a way. I have spoken to soldiers, many who have deserted your ranks, father." He used the family term purposely, though it was for attention only. "If we come forward as one, those that lean toward the Brethren will be outnumbered. We simply offer them free passage to their desired masters."

"We would only meet them again, backed by many white robes," the King said.

"Aye," Kelton said. "Though far less, for the decision to stay or leave would be without the passion of battle. Men choose better when the enemy is not chosen for them." He sighed. "It is my belief your army is mere fodder for the Brethren. Those that leave will meet that fate - used only to dwindle our numbers. How many will charge forward once they sense their true value?"

"Less still," The King said, nodding.

"Do they trust their King or their Lord?" Kelton continued. "One claims the Promise a truth and condemns it. The other claims it a lie and profits from it. Many have smelled the corruption, and we have only to offer them the shared will to smother it."

The King smiled and looked toward Gossamer. "You have shaped a powerful mind, my friend."

"I kept a boy breathing; that is all I can claim," Gossamer said. "The man is of his own making."

"In truth, it was your stories, Gossamer," Kelton said with a grin. "Fables they may be, yet I have always strived to earn their happy endings."

"A boy and his dreams," Juno added warmly, which caused a wave of chuckles.

A moan from the corner of the tent attracted Kelton. The bound and gagged form of the Queen lay crumbled in her fancy dress. He had caught wind of the woman's betrayal but wondered if it was any worse than his new father's. It seemed unbalanced.

"Must she be made to suffer?" Juno asked. Kelton was pleased she asked what he should have.

"Aye," the King said.

"Aye," Gossamer said. A surprising agreement. "There is much you do not know of that woman."

"Her sins are beyond the breaking of mutual vows," the King said. He looked at his Queen with an air of disgust.

Juno stared at the King. The look was one Kelton had seen before, the soft glare that demanded the King continue.

"Can we know your reason?" Kelton asked. Juno's hand graced his arm in support. They were one in such things. From what he had seen, Queen Margarey was a disagreeable soul, yet hogtied and marked for death seemed extreme.

The King exchanged a look with Gossamer, almost as if he were seeking permission. Perhaps it was a look of warning. Gossamer nodded slowly with closed eyes.

"Your words or mine?" the King asked Gossamer.

Gossamer sighed. "I am, was, a King's tutor. It is better said that I was in training, the son of a tutor of King's, like all my fathers before me. An untimely death thrust me into the title before my time. I was guard, caretaker, and teacher to King Gregory's two boys - Matchal and Garand. It was my duty to see to their minds and bodies." A sadness filled his eyes. "I was young and unready, physical desire still ruling my soul."

"That one," Gossamer continued, indicating the whimpering Queen, "saw my weakness and took me willingly. A lustful woman, a queen, with skills beyond a young man's imagination, seemed a dream come real. Betraying my king came easy, for my body craved the private time with the Queen. A master of love, she called me." He shook his head. "I was her unwitting tool. One day, she arrived with a tray of sweets, dried apples covered in dark sugar that smelled divine. A gift for her boys, though she thought it best I offer them as a gift from me - to better the bond so I was never replaced and our secret love could continue." Gossamer stopped, his mouth struggling to continue.

"They were poisoned," the King assisted. "An order from the Brethren. They had sensed my family's decline in obedience and thought it best that a new line of kings rules. My wife ended her only children in trade for the Promise. All my sons would have been great men, not just one."

"She returned with guards and called me murderer," Gossamer continued. Anger now ruled his voice. "It is the mark of a fool to compound his foolishness. I saw only betrayal and the death of the boys I cared for. My part in it pained me beyond measure. Thinking myself worthless, I consumed one of the sweets before the guards fell upon me."

"But you lived," Kelton said.

Gossamer shrugged. "I had more bulk than a boy. It was many days before I awoke."

"Five days," the King said. "I sensed the truth of it before he told me. The clues were there, buried in my Queen's familiarity with Magna'est. Unfortunately, ending my Queen then would only hasten the death of my line, and I was not yet ready to accept the Promise. I was sure the kingdom would suffer less under my hand. That, and another had been born to me. One, who by mere chance, was discovered to be Unseen." He smiled at Gossamer. "Who better than a dead man to hide such a boy - a tutor who owed me the greatest of debts."

"Thus my vow to be silent until death," Gossamer said. "My sorrows, Kelton. But know this; I knew nothing of the Promise until you told me of it."

"I kept many things from him," the King said." I thought it best not to complicate his duty any more than it was."

"It is a hard road we have all traveled," Kelton said with forgiveness. He glanced at the bound queen, his opinion of her now viled beyond recovery. Still, he saw the uncomfortable ropes not unlike lashing a dead man. If one was to be ended, what purpose does suffering prior serve? "Mayhap she could be a messenger of sorts."

"She has heard too much," the King said. There was an air of retribution in his words.

"Aye," Kelton agreed. "Though not any more than the Brethren will divine themselves. Best we give her back to her masters with truth on her tongue. Was she not to be the portal by which the new king is selected?"

"Aye."