The queen swirled the liquor gently in her cup, the ice-like cubes within clinking softly. Her gaze dropped for a moment, distant, as if the words she was about to speak weighed too heavily to carry in one breath.
Then she looked up at Ian.
"The only men... who could ever match women in the art of magic," she began again, her voice lower now, more measured, "were the redheads."
Ian’s brows furrowed, but he said nothing.
She leaned back slightly. "They weren’t many. Scattered across the lands, few and far between. But when they awakened to their gift, when they began to understand just how strong they could become... they didn’t use that power for balance." She sighed. "They used it to reclaim dominance."
Ian blinked slowly, still processing.
"They believed magic was the path for men to rise again. And they were desperate. Too desperate." Her tone darkened. "They burned cities. They enslaved whole clans. They took what they wanted and annihilated those who stood in their way."
Ian’s grip on his cup tightened slightly.
"They went further," she said. "Delved into magic that even the bravest of us dare not speak of , dark magic. The kind that eats at your soul and leaves only hunger in its place. Forbidden magic... abominations."
A long silence fell between them.
The queen’s eyes were steady. "They couldn’t be allowed to continue. So the most powerful of us, the Divas of every Kingdom gathered. And together, we made a decision." She placed her cup down with a soft clink. "The redheads had to be wiped out."
"We fought them. Hunted them. Killed them. No mercy." She didn’t flinch as she said it. "And when we were done, we ensured that any redhead born after that would suffer the same fate. Because the bloodline... it still carried the stain of that dark power. That same potential to destroy everything again."
Ian stared at her, stunned.
"It wasn’t justice," she admitted after a pause. "But it was necessary. Brutal, yes. But the world had to be kept safe."
She leaned back again and gave him a moment.
Ian sat there quietly, the weight of her words settling over him. It made sense now, the stares, the spit, the hatred in the eyes of strangers. It had nothing to do with him personally. It was what he was. What he might become. Get full chapters from novel fire.net
The queen didn’t interrupt his thoughts. She let him sit in silence, watching him absorb the truth of a world he never asked to be a part of.
And when he finally lifted his eyes to hers, there were a thousand questions there. But for now, he didn’t speak.
The queen rested her cup on the table and looked away, as though what she was about to say weighed too heavily to look him in the eye.
"She was supposed to rule after the empress," she began again, her voice quieter now. "The empress’s daughter. Trained from birth, groomed in the top tier art of magic. Powerful, wise, relentless , everything a future ruler should be."
Ian leaned forward slightly, listening.
"But then she did the abominable," the queen continued. "She fell in love... with a man. And not just any man — a redhead."
Ian’s breath caught, his eyes narrowing.
"Of course, the empress tried to silence it," the queen said. "She locked it all away, the rumors, the disgrace. She hoped it would fade with time. That her daughter would come back to her senses."
"But she didn’t," Ian muttered, almost knowingly.
"No." The queen shook her head. "She carried the child to term. Gave birth in secret, under the protection of the empress’s most trusted guards. But news... news like that doesn’t stay buried for long in this world."
Ian felt a chill crawl up his spine.
"The moment the word slipped out," she said, lifting her gaze to meet his, "the world began to stir. Rumours turned to shouts. Questions turned to demands. A redhead child born of royal blood? It was heresy."
"The empress tried to keep it hidden. She tried everything. But when the news spread beyond the walls of the palace... it was already too late."
Ian didn’t speak. He couldn’t, he was sat there, stunned. Pieces were clicking together in his mind faster than he could process them. The redhead child born of royal blood... the infant the empress disappeared with... the mother he never knew.
He looked up sharply. "That child... the infant girl... she was my mother."
The queen didn’t respond at first, she only studied his face with a strange mixture of awe and caution. Then, slowly, she nodded.
Ian leaned back, rubbing a hand over his mouth, overwhelmed. "And that means..."
"You," the queen finished for him. "You are the blood of the empress. The only living descendant of the imperial line."