"Does he not love you very much? I too have heard the tales of how his favorite child lives with him in the central palace and how he personally oversees your lessons. Were they falsehoods?"
"I- Yes, they are true, but-" I stutter. I've been thrown for a loop. It's as if I flipped to the last page of my math exam to find a question from a unit we haven't covered yet. My father's cold eyes seem to trail me just out of sight, I can practically feel them on my back. But somehow, I keep myself from turning around and checking like a maniac. "I- Where exactly did you hear this from?"
I barely manage to parry the inquiry with one of my own, perplexed at how he had come to such a conclusion. The wind has been knocked out of me figuratively and I struggle to regroup.
