Mia
~ tolerates a young Bellamy—then Baron—and dotes on a baby Asher ~
H e was following me. Again.
I wished he would stop.
Following. Talking. Laughing.
Breathing.
He was a stain. A problem that could not be fixed while it still lived.
I could practically hear my mother screaming at me from the grave. Blaming me for this abomination’s existence. For being so pathetic that I would birth it.
“Mama?” the little male asked. I stopped midstep, my right leg slightly ahead of my left and my balance precarious at best. But if I moved, if I did anything at all, then he would only try harder. That was the problem. He loved me. I wished he would hate me like I hated him.
“What is it, Baron?” I practically sighed the words, so exhausted by his presence that I could no longer pretend. Not that I had ever done a good job when no one was around to correct me.
Not that I ever let anyone around him anyways.
“Can we play in the garden?” he asked with unabashed glee.
Turning, I faced him, my blue eyes of winter ice flicking down to his blue eyes of summer skies. On his cheeks, freckles were beginning to appear, pairing beautifully with his deep dimples as he beamed up at me. We somehow matched while also being unnervingly different. He closer resembled the me that existed before my power had come. The me that still believed in a good world.
I hated it.
The only thing that was worse was seeing the tiny lines of black that peeked out above his tunic collar. Magic. Useless, of course. Though I had hoped it would not be. In fact, instead of being helpful, it had seemingly stunted the pathetic male’s growth. He was barely bigger than Asher. Yet, he made up for the smallness with an enormous personality. With more love than I thought one creature could hold and a brilliant mind.
“I do not want to play, Baron,” I muttered, trying to contain the hatred so it did not seep out from my lips.
My mother had always said that it was vital only fathers punished younglings. They were the stern, the unreliable, the enemy if there ever needed to be one. Mothers were the warmth, the solace, the ally . While Baron was not female, he was still my youngling, and I needed him on my side rather than Xavier’s.
Still, I so loathed him.
He was meant to be a daughter. A princess. A blessing.
“There is my little prince!” A deep shout alerted me to Xavier’s presence just before he rounded the corner. I watched in distaste as he bent low and scooped up Baron, the two of them giggling as he swung them around.
My fists bunched at my side, fury building in me. I stomped out the flames, dousing the fire and working to calm myself. It was improper—embarrassing, even—for a queen to let her emotions get the best of her.
Baron continued to giggle as Xavier set him down, beaming up at the king consort. That would not do. He needed to look at me like that, not his father.
I would have Xavier punish him tonight so I could soothe him after. Yes, that would fix everything. I would need to speak to the youngling in a kind way. To… cuddle him.That would be good for my patience, too.
It would all work out.
“Actually, Baron, I changed my mind. Come help me garden.”
***
“You are doing well,” I told Baron, eyeing his work on the roses with barely hidden awe. He would be an Earth, there was no doubt about that. He already excelled at working in the gardens. At least I could understand that part of him.
“Thank you, mama,” Baron whispered back, smiling up at me reluctantly.
Adoration was obvious in his eyes, Xavier all but forgotten after the last couple of hours in my gardens. His pale cheeks were turning pink from the sun, his pointed ears red at the tips where they poked out of his black waves. I should cut it. He did not need a reminder of Xavier. Maybe I would stop wearing cosmetics and let him see my matching freckles. Show him that he was more me than he was his father.
“I am… proud of you, my son.” My teeth were clenched, my fists balled so tightly they stung. Still, Baron’s tiny eyes watered, his smile full now and his dimples so deep they were practically craters.
He was cute. I would give him that. Not nearly as cute as—
“My Ash!” Baron shouted, pushing himself up and reaching his small arms out. I whipped my head around, a smile overtaking my face as Florencia walked towards us with Asher in her hands.
Asher already had hair to her shoulders, her gray eyes large and her lips full. Her skin was darker than Florencia’s, but there was an unmistakable likeness to them that made our story—our lie—regarding Asher’s parentage believable.
“Hello, My Prince,” Florencia cooed, coming to a stop before Baron and then squatting down to his height. Asher reached out to my son, her cheeks large as she smiled his way. He leaned in, rubbing their noses together and giggling.
“My sweet, little flower,” I hummed as I walked their way and pulled Asher away from them. There was something simply extraordinary about her. A sort of pull that felt an awful lot like gravity. Like real love.
We had already decided she would marry Baron. All of us knew she was a weapon disguised beneath beauty. It was more than that, though. Asher felt like the daughter I was meant to have. My dreams lived within her, my heart felt full in her presence, and my mind was content as my gaze hit her.
I recalled the moment I had pried her screaming form out of her useless mother’s dead arms. The feeling of rightness that had consumed me. Asher was mine.
“Your Majesty,” Florencia offered as she stood straight and then dipped back into a low curtsy. I ignored her, staring at my salvation before me. My true heir.
“Mama, I want a turn,” Baron complained, tugging on my golden skirts. Like I did, Baron sported all gold, the color complimenting his eyes and hair but clashing with his skin.
It would look so much better on Asher.
I shoved Baron off me, the little male falling on his bottom in the dirt and a soft cry slipping from his lips. Not caring, I began rocking Asher, humming softly to her and dreaming of the day I could teach her to play the pianoforte. Singing lessons too. She would be exquisite in all things.
“Actually, I was coming to ask if you would be okay with Baron going on a walk with Herberto, Asher, and I.” My gaze moved to Florencia where she was bent down once more, her hands making quick work of wiping Baron’s tears and dusting him off. Rolling my eyes, I reluctantly accepted that this would be good. Less time in Baron’s presence now meant that I would be able to endure soothing him later after Xavier beat him.
I was positive he would do something naughty that would warrant it. Males always did.
“I think that is a lovely idea,” I agreed with a smile.
***
Herberto’s head was barely hanging onto his neck, the sight nearly as gory as the gaping hole in Florencia’s chest. I knew that devastation well. It was the work of demons. Not that anyone but Xavier and I would remember that.
Panic was filling me, overtaking me like weeds suffocating roses. Only two bodies were in the clearing. The younglings were missing.
Asher was missing.
When the area surrounding Florencia and Herberto showed no signs of either youngling, I dove into the trees, tears streaming down my face as the memory of Asher’s soft giggles rang in my ears.
No. No. No. No!
A scream bubbled in my throat, blocking air from reaching my lungs. Still, I pushed on, searching desperately for a sign that she was still here. My power seeped into the ground, but I did not dare move a single tree. Not when she was at risk of being harmed.
Thorns sliced open my cheeks, vines wrapped around my ankles, dirt flew up into the air. All I could do was think of her as I ran and searched—as I begged the ethers. And then, Eternity saw fit to show me mercy.
Asher’s cries echoed across the forest.
When I finally found her, she was sitting up, still in the little white dress she had worn when Florencia had brought her along to fetch Baron. I dove down, grabbing her in my arms and sobbing openly as I hugged her close to my chest.
Reluctantly, I let my magic out, parting the trees to see if Baron was anywhere in sight. But no, Asher and I were the only ones there. Somehow, in that moment, I understood what had happened.
Florencia and Herberto must have hidden Asher and then tried to fight to protect Baron. Only for them to fall and the king or one of his warriors to take my son.
The king must have gotten word from his daughter before she was recaptured. He must have known she was pregnant. Did he think Baron was his grandson?
He would realize that Baron was not a demon, of course. Probably kill him. A weight lifted off my chest at the thought of not needing to deal with the male. Nor would I need to worry about the Daniox’s growing further attached to Asher.
Could I be so lucky?
No. There were still loose ends.
My eyes flicked down to Asher’s ears, the tips short, rounded points. Other if one had the foresight to search for discrepancies in her appearance. Someone like a king looking for his blood.
With a deep breath, I set Asher back down on the forest floor, summoned a sharp rock in my palm, and got to work cutting—the sound of her blood-curdling screams ringing in my ears.
All the while, my mother’s voice urged me on in my mind.