Chapter 7
Jonah Veynham arrived at noon.
No convoy.
One car.
One man beside him.
Not Ambrose.
Interesting.
Jonah was tall, gray at the temples, with my grandfather’s eyes.
Family resemblance is rude that way.
He entered the library and looked at Mother first.
“Merewyn.”
She stood.
“Jonah.”
No hostility.
Grief.
That told me enough to keep listening.
He looked at me.
“Aldric.”
I did not offer my hand.
Not yet.
“Why Briar House?”
His mouth tightened.
“Because that’s where they stripped our names.”
I had not known.
After the original accusation, Reginald summoned Lucius and the twelve captains to Briar House.
Took their signet pins.
Removed them from council.
Ordered every branch to treat them as outsiders.
No violence.
No blood.
Just erasure.
Symbolic punishment can last longer.
Jonah wanted the first return to happen there.
Not because he wanted to harm me.
Because he wanted the place reversed.
I understood.
Still unacceptable.
“You could have asked.”
He laughed.
“For twenty-seven years?”
Fair.
“Did you ask me?”
“No.”
There.
Important.
He had never approached me directly.
Why?
Ambrose told him I would refuse.
Corisande told him I would never listen without being forced into the room.
Nathaniel said my security would block any attempt.
Everyone had an opinion about my answer.
Nobody collected it.
I looked at Jonah.
“What do you actually want?”
“My father’s name cleared of the original convoy betrayal.”
“Was he innocent?”
“Of that? Yes.”
“Of everything after?”
“No.”
Good.
Honesty.
“And the other families?”
“Judge them individually.”
That sounded reasonable.
Then I asked:
“Why did Ambrose need my car?”
Jonah’s face hardened.
“He didn’t.”
There.
Another fracture.
Jonah had expected me to arrive voluntarily after Corisande persuaded me.
He knew nothing about disabled tracking.
No escort.
The west-gate vehicle.
May you like
Ambrose had turned an ugly reconciliation attempt into something else.
He wanted me isolated more than Jonah did.
