CHAPTER FOUR
THE REALM SEEMS TO TILT as I take a steadying breath.
This is the moment I’ve wanted for years, and yet I’m standing here dreading it.
My mother—and answers—are just through that door, waiting for me to uncover things, to reunite with someone I thought was lost to me for twenty-one years, but I’m frozen.
I lean against the stone wall, the sharp ache of the brick digging into my shoulderblades as I continue to try to hype myself up to go in there. To see the woman who brought me into this world, the last of the family I saw before everything came crumbling down in a rain of ash and smoke.
Nero nips at my ear. “Whatever you want to do Rav, I’m here for you. If you need a few more days to wrap your head around this, I’m sure everyone would understand.”
My head shakes. “No, this is something I need to do. We need answers, and she will have them. I can feel it in my gut. But how do I face her? She’s been alive all this time.
Suffering under the hands of an evil Lord, the very one who I’m sure orchestrated the downfall of my bloodline, who turned Damorleia into a battleground. And for what?”
“I’m always with you and will always have your back,” he states matter-of-factly. “Want to pet my luscious feathers before you go in? That usually calms you.”
Forcing myself to take another breath, I go to step into the room, but halt midstep as Aemon calls my name. “I thought you might want some company for this,” he murmurs softly, taking my hands in his. “If not, I can wait out here.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m glad you’re here. But I thought you were off doing some Lord-in-training things since your mother is still in the wind.”
Ever since we came back to that note she left stating she was off in search of more clues, we haven’t heard a peep from her.
I can tell Aemon is worried since this behavior isn’t the norm for her.
He explained that she usually kept herself confined to the grounds, caring for his father while doing her best to run Vathia, and when she couldn’t, he was there to take over.
I know he has spies and such out looking for her but she—like any good Skuggi fae—knows how to keep to the shadows.
The corner of his mouth twitches. “That can wait. I could sense your worry down the bond. Jesper almost all but ran here, but I figured you would want someone a bit more level-headed.”
“You? Level-headed? You’re almost as bloodthirsty as he is.”
He pulls me in, causing Nero to take to the air, landing on a windowsill across from us puffed up and annoyed.
Aemon kisses the top of my head. “Yes, that is true, but I’m much more calculated, whereas he goes in without a thought in that head of his.
Even though it does mostly end in his favor,” he mutters quietly to himself.
My heart aches, but a small chuckle leaves my lips. “You’re not wrong there. Thank you.” I don’t need to explain why I’m thanking him; he knows.
He dips his head, his mouth pressing to mine softly. “Come on. Let’s go see your mother.”
I nod, taking another deep breath as Nero perches back on my shoulder. This is it. Let’s get some answers.
Aemon pushes open the door to the infirmary and it’s surprisingly quiet.
The head healer glances over at us from her workstation.
Strong-smelling herbs and tonics litter the counter in a way that I’m sure is organized to her.
She places down her well-used marble mortar and pestle and makes her way over to us, her long skirts swishing around her and a chatelaine clinking with each step.
“Your majesty, Lord Aemon,” she greets us, dipping into a curtsy.
“I’m assuming you’re here to see the Queen? ”
I bite my lip and squeeze Aemon’s hand. “Yes, how is she doing?”
The healer clasps her hands in front of her.
“She’s severely malnourished and dehydrated, and it’s obvious she’s been tortured over the past twenty-one years.
We’ve had to sedate her a few times to be able to care for her.
Whatever was done to her, she can’t stand the equipment we use for healing, but we are doing our best to keep her comfortable. ”
My gaze darts up to Aemon before settling back on the healer. “Comfortable?”
A soft look enters her eyes—not one of pity, but one I’ve seen when the news someone is about to give you isn’t good.
“The Queen is more than just weak. Her body is failing, but we are doing what we can for her. She’s in the back room if you would like to see her.
I will be out here if you need anything. ”
Her words pierce my heart and I’m not sure whether I’m devastated or furious. Aemon squeezes my hand and Nero nuzzles my cheek as I choke out a thank you.
She dips into a curtsy again and heads back to her station.
“Come on, let’s go say hello, shall we?”
I nod, my body feeling numb as I slowly step with Aemon towards the room the healer pointed out.
My body feels detached as my mind goes over what was just said to me while memories of my mother bounce between when I was younger and seeing her in the tunnels under that Fates-forsaken cabin.
I know the healer didn’t say out right that she’s dying or that she won’t make it, but it definitely seems implied.
After everything she’s probably been through, she doesn’t deserve this. She—
Aemon squeezes my hand. “Rav, it’s okay to feel like this, but I think you should focus on spending some time with her…” While I still can. The words he doesn’t say are left hanging between us.
As we get closer to the room there’s quiet murmuring. I glance up at Aemon whose brows are pinched; then he pushes ahead of me and opens the door. My jaw drops. Aemon’s mother is sitting next to mine.
My eyes dart between them. Amethyst’s clothes are tarnished with dirt and wrinkles—not something you would typically see in a Lady of her standing.
Beside her, my mother looks so much smaller than I remember, her body frail and bones protruding against her nearly translucent flesh.
Her now dull pink eyes whip to mine fearfully until she sees that it’s just us, but the terror never really fades.
“You’re back,” Aemon grits out.
She sighs. “Come on you two, we have a lot to talk about.”
I squeeze Aemon’s hand tighter and move to the open chair next to my mother. I can’t take my eyes off of her. It’s like everything I wish for has turned into a tale of horrors.
“Maeven,” my mother whispers, her eyes tearing up as she tries to move her weak hand towards me. “Oh, my beautiful daughter, look at you all grown.”
My mouth opens and I begin spewing unfiltered thoughts and feelings.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were alive.
I swear I would have come for you sooner.
I would have found a way to rescue you, I didn’t even know I was supposed to even come here.
Gretchen died and the necklace hid my memories and—”
“Breathe,” she croaks. The soft sound is enough to silence me immediately. “I never wanted you to come for me. You needed to stay safe. I tried to keep you away…” She glances at Aemon’s mother and they share some sort of unspoken communication.
“As you can tell, I just got back from my travels.” She gestures to her unkempt clothing. “The moment I found out that you were back and brought the Queen with you, I came straight here. I couldn’t believe that my oldest friend was still alive after all these years. There weren’t even whispers.”
“Where have you been going, mother?” Aemon asks, his voice low with concern and wariness.
She sits back, peering up at her son with a pleading expression. “I’ve been trying to find a cure for your father and information on the Soul Stone.”
“Mother, father betrayed us. He was working with the male who did that” he points at my mother, “to your closest friend and tore my mate’s life apart.
Let him rot and leave it in the past. We are at war, and I’ve tried to be understanding, but he isn’t the male who took us on camping trips to the snowdrop field, or would bring you flowers when you were sad.
That male stopped being my father the day he turned his back on this family, on this realm. ”
“You’re wrong,” she states boldly.
Aemon’s anger and frustration gears up, pulsing down our bond, but my mother’s quiet voice cuts him off. “She’s right.”
“What are you talking about, mother?” I ask, scooting the chair closer to her bed while still holding onto my mate’s hand, needing to ground us both, even if it’s just with our touch.
She sighs, closing her eyes tightly. “My memory isn’t what it used to be and I’m so tired,” she whispers.
“But I know he was using something to make fae and creaturekind do his bidding. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that he did the same with the other lords…
He has… something unnatural about him and his magick, and the other lords are almost as bad. ”
Amethyst inhales as my mother begins coughing loudly. Her body shakes like it’s about to snap in half with the pressure. I scramble up and grab the pitcher of water, filling up the half full glass on her bedside table before holding it near her for when she’s ready to take a sip.
Once the hacking coughs settle, I hold it to her lips and she hums lightly before sinking back into her pillows. I place it back down on the table and sit on the edge of the bed, while Aemon stands steady at my shoulder.
“You think Lord Craven manipulated their minds?” he asks.
She nods, gripping my hand, and somehow even with how frail she appears, she squeezes it with more strength than I was expecting. “Yes, I think it has something to do with the Soul Stone. I fear…” She swallows, a tear falling down her cheek. “Let me start with what I can remember.”
I nod silently, needing to know anything she can tell me.
She takes a deep breath and stares at the ceiling, and we all lean in closely to hear the whispered, horrid tale I’m sure she’s about to share.
“That night—we should have seen it coming. Your fathers were convinced that Lord Craven would never cross that line, but I should have known. See, as fledglings, Craven was close with your fathers and I. We were inseparable, weren’t we?” she asks and Amethyst dips her head in acknowledgment.
“We all were, though you never told me what happened all those years ago.” She grabs my mothers other hand.
“I met my mates. My soul-tied mates,” she whispers. “Your fathers.”
“Wait. Are you saying true mates came back with you? That I wasn’t the first?”
Her eyes widen in shock. “You met your mates?” Her gaze darts to Aemon standing behind me and a small smile graces her parched lips.
“Of course, you males never wanted to leave her side. I should have known. But yes, my council told me we needed to keep it under wraps. We didn’t want to give the realm hope in case it was a one-off, but Lord Craven figured it out, and something in him broke,” she murmurs, getting a faraway look in her eyes.
A look I’m all too familiar with. It’s what I’ve seen when my mind gets sucked back into the past, to the dark trenches of my mind where the horrors I’ve been through lie dormant until they come back to haunt me.
She shakes her head, attempting to pull herself out of it.
“He was never the same after that. He became cold and distant. We thought once he met his mate, Talyn’s mother, he would turn back into the male we all remember.
And he did, for a bit. She fell pregnant and it was like we saw a glimpse of him again.
” Another cough rattles through her and we all wait patiently until she’s able to speak again.
“Then I got pregnant with you, and he went back to the way he was before he met his chosen mate. She died not long after that.”
Wait. “Did she die in childbirth with Cynder? I’m confused. Isn’t Cynder seven years younger than me? Did he re-mate?”
She squeezes my hand, tears leaking steadily down her face. “She died during childbirth with Talyn. Cynder isn’t Talyn’s sister. She’s yours.”