Guild of the Forsaken

Chapter 1

Ryanen woke up with a cold feeling in his gut. It was barely past dawn, and sunlight was streaming through the curtains. The executor of the will was coming today. Their father's will.

Connall Moonbeam. Their mother's mate, Emani's blood father, and the only father he and Athaelia had ever known.

The executor of the will- he had signed his letter like that- was a fae from Doranelle. His parents hated Doranelle, and Maeve had killed both. Why was the executor coming from Doranelle?

Deciding that sleep was a lost cause, Ry got up and padded to the kitchen, where a fresh saucepan of coffee was already on the stove. Thaelie.

"Couldn't sleep either?" Athaelia called from the couch. He responded with a noncommittal groan. She grinned. He grabbed a cup and sat across from her.

Anyone who saw the two of them never believed they were twins. Ryanen was almost six and a half feet, while Athaelia was pushing two inches over five. Ry also had their mother's lilac eyes, while Thaelie had their blood-father's pine. Whoever he was.

"Jace wrote to me again," Athaelia said with a small smile. "Her family's coming to Adera for Reyia."

"I thought she was going to move here by solstice."

"She wanted to finish her studies in Anielle."

"For how much longer?"

"Three years. Healer's communes don't end lessons till 21." Thaelie put her cup aside and grabbed a handful of berries from the bowl in front of her. A book was tucked in next to her.

"Is that.." he asked, gesturing to black leather sketchbook.

"Mami's," she confirmed. "She had a dress in here that said 'for Thaelie's  eighteenth Fari.' This next one. Yours is on the next page. Wanted to get started on it."

Their mother had maintained a personal sketchbook until her death and had planned every detail for their clothes for formal events. There was a sketch that had been used for Thaelie's quinceanera, a sketch for Emani's, wedding clothes for the twins, and eighteenth Fari clothes for all of them. Ema's clothes had been designed when their mother, Diavian, was still pregnant.

A soft set of footsteps could be heard upstairs. Emani walked down the stairs, black shawl wrapped around her shoulders. At ten years, she was about four inches shorter than Athaelia.

"Hey, sweetheart," Athaelia said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Emani just grabbed the abandoned cup and finished its content in one gulp.

"Now that we're fairly caffeinated," Ryanen muttered, "Breakfast?

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There was a knock on the door around noon, and Athaelia watched the housekeeper open the door. Ry schooled his face into neutrality and greeted their guest. Three knocks on the wall. Act neutral.

A blonde male rounded the corner with Ry, and Thaelie squeezed Emani's arm. The male looked exactly like their father.

"Ema. If you want to go upstairs, do so now." she whispered.

"NO," Emani hissed back. A beat, and then, " Mis dioses. Why does he look like Papa?"

As Thaelie scrambled for an answer, Ry gestured at the couches and motioned for the male to sit. Emani sat next to Ryanen, and Athaelia to her right.

The male introduced himself as Fenrys. Their father's brother. Well, there was Ema's answer.

Fenrys cleared his throat. "This is Connall Moonbeam's last will and testament. I understand that you were his family? For the sake of today's proceedings, can you state your name and relation to him?"

Ryanen nodded. "I'm Ryanen, this is Athaelia, and my little sister is Emani. He was our stepfather, and our younger sister's father."

"He split his estate between the three of you. As it seems that you are your sister's guardians, her money will be kept away until she is eighteen. The property left to you, Perlington Cottage, is to be dealt with as you three see fit."

"Is that all?"

"Yes." The male stood up and silently walked out the door.

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Fenrys walked out of the house in a haze. The elder two were definitely Rowan's. The boy had his hard jaw and height, but with Diavian's hair and eyes. The older girl had Rowan's pine green eyes instead of her brother's lilac, but her hair was black, and she was comically short compared to her brother. And Rowan's scent was a faint but distinct presence.

The last child, though, had shaken him to the core. His brother's eyes. Diavian's face, his brother's smile, the small burst of Connall's power that she had displayed after seeing him. Emani had been their mother's name, and Athaelia the name of Diavian's.

The three children were the remaining legacy of two individuals who had held prominent places in his heart. The reminder of a time when two brothers and their best friend ran in the gardens of an estate long forgotten. Before Maeve.

Rowan was anxiously pacing when he got back to the inn. "Well?" he asked.

"You're a father."

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Rowan stared at Fenrys in shock. Vaguely, he felt Aelin maneuver him to the nearest chair.

Children.

Fenrys put a hand on his shoulder and pulled up his chin. "Rowan. Rowan, look at me. Calm down."

Rowan nodded. "How many? How old? Names?"

"Twins. Ryanen and Athaelia. They look about eighteen. And the little girl, Emani, she's definitely my niece."

"How old is she?" Aelin asked. She was standing behind Rowan, with her hand on his shoulders. One of them had to be level headed.

"I think she's about ten or eleven." Fenrys took in a deep breath and collapsed on the couch. "I have to oversee the distribution of money. We'll have to be here for at least another week. Write to them."

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To Ryanen and Athaelia Santiago,

I hope that this letter does not startle you. My name is Rowan Whitethorn, and it has recently come to my attention that you are  my children.

I understand that this might be a shock for you. I would like to start with letting you know that, had I known of your existence, I would have been in your life.

I do not fault your parents, however, for making the choices that they did. We had a complicated history. They did what they believed was best for you.

I am in Adera now. If you wish, I would like to meet you. You can respond with time and location. If not, I understand your choices.

Sincerely,

R. Whitethorn