Mom tells him the truth

*Zac*
“I go to take the waters and return to find that my son has suffered a complete loss of his senses." My mother huffs.

Sprawled in a chair in my library, I am not in the mood for company this evening. It doesn’t help matters that my mother arrives with Lynn in tow.

Calliope’s parting words have been eating at me all day. I banged my head against the wall for a good five minutes, striving to shake some memories free. Or perhaps I am simply striving to punish myself.

She manipulated me into marrying her. Only I wanted to marry her. She didn’t hold my feet to the fire. She hadn’t expected me to marry her. She said that. A lie. To give me a small sense of freedom, to make me think the idea was mine.

She is not that scheming.

“Now is not a good time, Mother." I mumble.

“When would be? When you have finished off another bottle?" She huffs.

I shrug, “Another two, more like.”

“Oh, Zac." In a rustle of silk, she takes the chair across from me. “You were happy with her. Why did you send her away?"

Rather than respond, I watch the way Lynn stands behind the chair and folds his hand over the princess’ shoulder. How many times over the years has he taken up that exact pose, offering her strength when she had to deal with her unruly and oftentimes rebellious sons?

“Isn’t he stepping in where Leo should be?" I ask, nodding toward Lynn. I have hardly been able to tolerate the wait of reaching my majority, because it has meant no longer having to answer to the man who has been stern and implacable when it comes to raising me.

“He is your... guardian. It is his place to be here." She says.

I shake my head, “I reached my majority long ago. I’m past the age of needing a guardian.”

“A friend, then," Lynn says, his gaze razor-sharp as it homes in on me.

We have never been close. I have been a constant disappointment to the man who has served as the replacement of a father. After my father died, Draco’s father took on the role. In his will, he named Lynn as guardian of his son by birth and his sons by marriage. In my youth, I felt as though there was no permanence. Men came and went. Then, of course, there were my mother’s numerous lovers.

Is it any wonder that I have never even entertained the notion of settling for one woman? I had never had a desire to marry? Until Calliope. The thought of being with another woman has not even crossed my mind while Calliope has warmed my bed.

Getting a divorce is a complicated process that involves courts and Parliament. If I manage to secure one, I could marry Fancy. Unfortunately, I have no desire whatsoever to take her to mate. I have vivid memories of bedding her, several times. She is delightful. I haf enjoyed her. She is Zane’s mother.

But I cannot envision her as my lady.

Perhaps it is only because Calliope still preys on my mind.

“I understand that Leo held up my carriage this afternoon. Stole its cargo." I say.

My mother smiles. “He does enjoy the dramatic. We feared if she got to London, we might never find her, so he sought to catch her before she had gone too far.”

“Is she in your residence then?” I ask.

My mother gives a brusque nod. As much as I want to know how Calliope fares, I refrain from asking. Why torment myself further? I do not want to know if she is still weeping. I’ve seen her struggling to hold back the tears. The Goddess help me, I had almost begged her to stay.

“She deceived me. She is not Zane’s mother,” I point out.

“She may not have given birth to him, but make no mistake, she is his mother. She will do anything to protect him, to provide him with a safe harbor. Trust me. I know of what I speak.” She tells me.

I almost roll my eyes, “I suppose you are about to tell me that you did not give birth to me.”

She hesitates, and my gut tightens. I wish I hadn’t been drinking ever since Calliope left. Surely, surely, my mother is not here to tell me…

“I most assuredly gave birth to you,” she finally says. “Had a devil of a time of it, if you are even remotely interested in knowing the truth. You were always a difficult child. Two days of hell you put me through, and then you were born... and I have lost count of all the days of hell you have put me through since.”

My mouth twitches. With her acerbic tone, she can always make me smile. I stroke the silky ridge of my damned scar. “Is Calliope all right?”

“Of course she is not all right. What sort of idiot question is that?” She huffs.

“Has she at least stopped crying?” I ask.

She shrugs, “Probably not.”

“You are here to torment me.” I sigh.

“No. Well, it may seem that way when I am done. You think she has deceived you because she didn’t tell you everything. Sometimes we hold secrets to protect those we love.”

“And you no doubt know of what you speak because you have secrets.” I mumble.

My mother gnaws on her lower lip. “I do. I have one. I have held it close because revealing it could hurt so many people. I am torn because telling it will place a burden on you, and I would spare you the weight of that if I could.”

“I have no interest in your secrets. They are yours.” I tell her.

“How I wish that was true. But this particular one, while I have kept it, is not mine; it is yours. But I must have your word that you will not tell a soul because it can cause great suffering. And I will not have that.” She says.

I do half roll my eyes, “You and Leo are well matched. You both love the dramatic.”

“Your word.” She says.

“I prefer that you not tell me, but if you insist… you have my word.” I promise.

“I would prefer not to tell you as well, but I think you should know so you may better understand Calliope.”

I sit up, remembering Calliope’s parting shot. “You know something about my time in the Crimea?”

“No, darling. I know something about your birth.” She takes a deep breath, releases it. “My first mate is not your father.”

I feel as though she has punched me in the gut. “Then who the devil is my father?”

“I have that honor,” Lynn says softly.