Elizabeth remained standing for several seconds, as if the room itself had pulled away from her. The chair behind her was still out of place, her hands were clenched hard enough to make her gloves creak, and her red eyes stared at Liza with a mixture of disbelief, pain, and anger. It was not only the political revelation that struck her. It was the brutal reconstruction of a memory she was still trying to protect.
"He sought them out," Elizabeth said, her voice too low for an accusation and too heavy for a question.
Liza held her daughter's gaze.
"Yes."
"Before everything."
"Yes."
"Before you were trapped in that hell. Before I was hunted. Before the clans went mad. Before the children died."
The queen closed her eyes for an instant, but did not look away.
"Yes."
