Erebus’ story was admirable, a sweet tale of perseverance if you asked Lenore. She flicked a tail tip, causing a tiny globe of light to float toward him. “I suppose I’m not really bothered by who I am descended from. What bothers me is the not knowing. It’s a whole half of relatives I don’t know about; I don’t care whether my father is a prince’s bastard or a trueborn prince, as long as I can one day find him.” She gave a small shrug. “In the case my father is the latter, he’s the cause of the plague that terrorized Starfall. But I wouldn’t have any blame for that, nor my brothers and sister we know to be his children. And perhaps if he is my father, he will not be a savory individual. That would bother me very much. I would hate to have a father I cannot stand to be around, but I’ll pay that price if it is the price of knowing.” She had thought for a long time in days past on this topic.

“In the night, the stormy night.”