I took a hesitant step toward my uncle, closer to the aura of shimmering Seelie magic resonating from him.
“Hester!” Sy’s voice was taut, desperate. He took a step forward with me, keeping the tip of the poker between me and Lord Raelen. “What are you doing?!”
“Saving you,” I whispered, feeling my eyes stinging. I refused to cry in front of my uncle though. Not when he’d just sworn on my father’s memory, despite doing so to shame me and my choices. I wanted to show him I was sure of myself, like the Queen had said. That I knew what I wanted. But I knew, in my heart, my uncle would only see this as surrender. Either way, Sy would be safe.
“You can’t trust him!” yelled Sy, abandoning caution. “How could we not have heard about a war?! And how did it start? There’s no way.”
I couldn’t say to him that it didn’t matter how it started, that we really should prod into who had struck first. It would only make things stranger and worse.