Every year at the same time, Haldar brought his son to stand in front of the headstone, with the name Ursandrah roughly chiseled into the face. “Father?” Ten-year-old Draigh asked “What was she like? My mother, I mean.” Did she look like me?”“Yes, she had long hair, blonde like yours. Her eyes were the same blue.”“Did you love her very much?”His father swallowed. He stood there quietly for a minute before he answered, “No.”The boy gazed up at him, wide-eyed. “Then why did you marry her?”The father shook his head. “I didn’t.” The child stood there in silent amazement, so the father knelt in front of him. Putting his hand on his son’s shoulder, he said, “I haven’t told you this story because it will jeopardize your life if the wrong person finds out. Men will come to the village and kill you. Can you keep a secret? A secret that you must guard with your life.”Draigh nodded.“Your mother was a princess, the daughter of King Legell. When the usurper Gallenden attacked the castle, the king gave me the task of keeping the princess safe.”The boy didn’t say a word, just stared ahead. The father ruffled his hair. “This doesn’t change anything between you and me.”“Who am I? Does that make me a prince?”“No, it makes you the king.”