Pendragon nodded towards his sister understanding excitably what she was referring to. It must be a twin thing or something; because he was pretty sure no one else in the room picked up on that. His glaze looked back to Guin a part of him didn't want to leave her, not out of protection or love instead he felt as if he
couldn't let her out of his sight because of what will happen if he does. "Donât worry," he said to the girl. "You have the best healer in The Outercity!" and with that Pendragon went to the small kitchenette on the other side of the room, without saying a word Galahad followed as Pendragon thought he would. He was if anything a rather clingy child.
âHereâ he said as he handed the boy a bag of bread that he pulled from the small ice box.
A small screen turned on besides him, and a picture of Queen Igraine appeared on it.
âOur most beloved Queen Igraine was born the daughter of labor. A voice from the television echoed. âNot much is known of Igraineâs early life, except she was self-taught, and by the age of sixteen was employed by LeFey Inc. There she met Alexander Lefey and her life in politicsâ began.âPendragon switched off the television, âStupid documentaries.â He muttered and took the bread from Galahad and placed it in the toaster. Then poured Guin a glass of whatever juice they had that hadnât turned into alcohol yet, today it smelt like apple but sometimes you could not be so sure.
Alexander Lefey was many things but a coward was not one of them. Staring at the large ornate crystal currently gripped in his hands he knew far too well the only thing left for him to do. âPityâ he muttered under his breath. âI could have done so much more.â Leaving his laboratory the jewel still clutched in his hand he headed to his daughterâs room, as the little girls giggled and played.
âPapaâ Vesta shouted as her sisters soon echoed, their little feet running to their beloved father.
Alexander scooped the girls into his arms the amulet still clinging to his hand. âWhere is your mother?â he asked as they pointed to the connecting room, âSheâs talking with Aunty Morgan.â Vesta said as her father frowned. He now realized his Aunt wasnât who she said she was; she was a witch and his own ancestor. He was merely a pawn in her grand design, but he would be anymore! No, he would live his own life and die at his own pace.
âTell your mother to come to the laboratoryâ he told his daughters before saying his final goodbyes. He headed back to his lab, where he sat down and began writing out a long list of sorts.